I try to be thankful everyday.
I’m always reminded that I have ancestors who didn’t and don’t have the same fortune I have, and how blessed I am to partake in meals with all of my family. It’s hard to celebrate a day you know was dedicated to what pilgrims perceived as manifest destiny but that the victims and survivors perceive as the pillage, rape, and genocide of their people. Of our people. Our blessings in the present came from a legacy of a foul philosophy placed on those who didn’t fit a description or a mold.
What our curriculum teaches our children as a moment of harmony amongst humans is overshadowed by the centuries of deceit shortly thereafter.
Yet, I also know that having a day dedicated to spending time with family matters. Lots. In the midst of working on one project, worrying about other projects, and frankly not tending to ourselves, we lose a myriad of chances to reflect on our successes, no matter how small. Some of us might have returned to our usual M.O., partially a personal choice, another part a function of societal norms of going back to work. It’s as if we only thank in a dream state, and waking up means we return to the mundane, the miserable, the unappreciative.
As with every year, let’s remain dedicated to thankfulness. Becoming a parent has only given me more perspective on understanding my fortunes. I can provide for him, put a roof over his head, put clothes on his back, and food in his stomach. Every time we can do any of the things that contribute positively in some way, shape, or form, we can take some time and be thankful in those moments.