I am indescribably excited for American Thanksgiving for two reasons:

1. I’m American and from what I gathered from my Canadian classmates is that Canadian Thanksgiving is a much smaller deal than American Thanksgiving, which just might second fourth of July in terms of American patriotism.

2. My family is coming! All five members of my immediate family are coming for me to celebrate together. I am ecstatic. But naturally, keeping in mind the teachings from this semester on collective narrative and dominant voice/projection, I thought it might be fun to explore how Thanksgiving, as a hypothetical cultural site, is a form of life narrative, and as I can only talk to the system of American holidays and methods of celebration, I’ll start there.

Americans really love Independence Day. We really, really love the United States, and despite all of its corruption and ineffective, meddlesome policies, it’s nice to have one day where we let that go and revel in all the glory that we were brought up to believe our country has. If any non-Americans are confused, Independence Day has little to do with the Declaration of Independence (at least in all the circles I’ve celebrated with) and a lot to do with red, white, and blue, fireworks and barbecue. The same could be said for Thanksgiving. I was raised knowing Thanksgiving as a day of cooking and eating and appreciating my family, no historical context to speak of.

What I learned about national holidays and national pride came with the constraint of my family’s values and own experiences, not collective, consolidated historical fact. Most of what I learned about the traditions and expectations for American national holidays was from school, and as I get older many learned, unquestioned prejudices present themselves when it comes to holidays in relationship to national pride and collective identity.

In elementary school I learned what Columbus Day is. Actually, I learned it as Indigenous People’s Day. Does this distinction matter? Yes. My US History class starts with Columbus. My World History class spent six weeks on the colonial period alone and only a month on non-Western countries’ histories and accomplishments. Columbus Day and Thanksgiving are extensions of this narrowed history. If Thanksgiving is a day of thanks and celebration, it denies the colonial implications of the Pilgrims and Native Americans. If Columbus Day is framed as a feat of human intervention, it denies the slaughtering and extinction of thousands of Native Americans and their empires. In short, historical truths and respects are severed.

Holidays are about remembering and recounting, a national closure, celebration or mere acknowledgement of the past. Just like narratives, these largely unstructured occasions can be misconstrued, manipulated and demonized. They can also reflect the interests of the people engaging with them. Seems like holidays are a lot like life narratives hmm? Interesting.

In closing, I am very homesick, and a large association I have with home is my family and how my family collectively celebrates holidays like Thanksgiving. Thanksgiving is my site of witnessing, for my family, my gratitude, my country. But like narratives, individual action during the holidays is unpredictable, and that person has the power to determine what is right and wrong in this collective memory. The macro comes from the micro, remember.

Happy Holidays!