Crunchy leaves and colors, slight chill in the air.
Heartfelt prayers of gratitude over turkey with stuffing, cranberry sauce, butter beans, warm apple cider and sweet potato pie…stomach kept empty and ready for it all.
Spirituality, family fun (and fights), making new memories for the photo album before all stumble from kitchen to living room to pass out like beached whales…bellies just as round.
Contented fatigue, pleasant conversation, crackling fire in the hearth…warm…cozy.
A chill in the air…just a touch of the terror your ancestors felt as they were poisoned and butchered by God-fearing Pilgrims.
Leaves the color of blood crunching beneath your feet like the bones of your ancestors strewn across the lands of this great nation.
A nation that once belonged to your forefathers, before it was wrenched away and re-fertilized with their blood and bones. A nation that now glorifies this massacre, and those who led it, rewriting genocide into a warm-fuzzy family fable.
A fable you must suffer through, year after year.
Your conquering countrymen – the ones who now celebrate the genocide of your ancestors – have slowly evolved from an outright, guilt-free celebration in which you were expected to participate. Their new p.c.-esque celebration unapologetically casts your children in demeaning re-enactments of the false fable while urging you to let butchered bones lie, give thanks, and grab yourself a piece of turkey.
They now publicly acknowledge the fable they’ve crafted, briefly mentioning it’s “possible” inaccuracy only to hop, skip or jump quickly over it, focusing on, indeed stressing the “true” meaning of Thanksgiving.
Though still in the early stages of editing, the fable is being re-vamped.
The holiday, they say, is not about the “sad event” of “possible” genocide.
This warm and wonderful celebration is about family and friends coming together in gratitude, they say, of the wonderful bounty of God.
Sweeping your forefather’s bones quickly away by re-defining the colonial celebration allows them to hang onto their holiday in a way which reflects more positively upon themselves.
But there are those who know better…those who see through the ruse.
Everywhere you look, decorative lies of a First Thanksgiving adorn homes, businesses, schools…smiling Pilgrims sharing food with smiling Indians, creating a palatable history for the people of this conquering empire to digest.
Your ancestors were not smiling as they were poisoned by Pilgrims at this infamous meal.
Nor did they live to hear the Pilgrim’s prayer over their corpses, expressing “thanksgiving for victory over these heathen savages.”
And now, centuries later, you must live through the celebration of an altogether different story.
A Thanksgiving story weaved of microscopic bits of truth and boulder-sized lies.
A narrative created to soothe patriotic minds that turn away from the truth, lest it bleed upon their treasured holiday.
A national narrative from which you are excluded…your reality, expunged.
Happy Thanksgiving…for whom?
Which Thanksgiving narrative do you honor?
Can you see this ‘holiday’ through foreign eyes?
See all Foreign Eyes Friday A Day in the Life posts!