From Abroad: Sweater Weather, American Memories

Cold mornings, sweater-weather and the return of tea time all signify the presence of fall and the soon arrival of my favorite childhood holiday: Thanksgiving. I grew up in Southern California, so my family did not always have the autumn weather to add to the experience of the season, but we still celebrated fall in many of the traditional ways others do.
I can remember one particular year when cousins, siblings and I were thrown by the dads/uncles into piles of leaves in my grandparents’ backyard. That was the year that I decided I was too big for the game – not only did my dad throw out his back from the effort, but I hit the bottom of the pile for the first time. No soft landing that year, but I could still appreciate the smell of the leaves and the laughter of younger cousins.
My grandpa was infamous for struggling with the turkey knife, a monstrous beast of a blade that never failed to scare me out of my wits the instant it revved to life. He would mutter the kind, old-man versions of cussing under his breath. Things such as: “The darned thing just won’t give up,” the notorious, “What the …?” and my favorite, “Curse the rum out of the inventor of this glory-forsaken machinery.” My family is often hard to deal with, but my grandpa’s pseudo-swearing gave all within earshot a chuckle.
Most American schoolchildren learn about the brave Pilgrims facing the dangers of the New World and battling it out with weather and disease, all the while interacting with Indians – sometimes friend and sometimes foe. Recently, though, Thanksgiving has been brought to light differently. As an Anglo-American, I never really experienced these new types of views about the holiday in my home, but I have now come to understand that the holiday may not be all it is cracked up to be.
While the original Thanksgiving holiday was essentially what we imagine – warm-fuzzies of the colonists and Native Americans in the year 1620 sharing a gut-busting potluck of epic proportions – what succeeded that event was massive devastation of thousands of displaced people across the early American territories. Realistically speaking, the British colonists wanted to come conquer the land but were killed off in droves due to harsh climates. Two local Native Americans living in the area did these men a favor and helped them develop skills that allowed them to survive their second winter in the new land.
Because of the miseducation (or misunderstanding) of what really happened during those days, many modern Americans of both native and immigrant heritages have been raising the cries that Columbus Day and Thanksgiving cloud what today’s Americans know of our history. Many people have been clamoring for the move to change what is known as Columbus Day into “Indigenous Peoples’ Day.”
Personally, I agree with the call for awareness. As a white American, I did not receive enough education regarding the “others” in our country, despite the fact that there are more “others” than “whites.” I think there should be more focus on the tragedy that occurred – even if it means explaining these harsh facts to the young in elementary schools.
But, I would like to keep the holiday (whether we call it Columbus Day, Indigenous Peoples’ Day or Thanksgiving Day) as just that – a time off from work and school, for the sake of resting, being with family and being thankful. I think it is meaningful to have a time set aside from “normal” just to reflect on those concepts.
Even living in a foreign country, I can still practice gratitude. For us Americans here in Korea, November 24th will feel too much like a normal Thursday. I miss mashed potatoes and stuffing (but never was a huge fan of the turkey). It is hard to work and be away from family on a day that should be dedicated to just the opposite. In any case, I challenge Americans to think about the sacrifices that were made nearly 400 years ago and be grateful for what those difficulties have allowed.