The one time I wore a skirt to a family Thanksgiving, my grandmother lifted it up in front of everyone to "see if I had anything on underneath." I was 14, utterly mortified, and swore to always wear pants from then on.
When I was 17, I thoughtlessly invited some boy I liked to Thanksgiving dinner. My uncle brought him into the basement where he revealed his "play room" - that is, a fully black light-responsive, Spencer's-esque, midlife-crisis lair, where he talked about Ozzfest (like we would think it was cool) and sprayed us with compressed air. My creepy uncle then whispered into the boy's ear: "Try spraying that on your d*ck!"
Riddled with embarrassing episodes and some aunt constantly whining, "Is that all she's going to eat?" the tradition of Thanksgiving has left me consistently ungrateful.
My Brazilian roommate has (obviously) never had a Thanksgiving. I took this as a welcome reminder that not everyone celebrates this ridiculous holiday because not every country has some skewed folklore about Pilgrims pretending to be nice to Native Americans.
"You have to experience Thanksgiving here, dude," another roommate told the Brazilian. "It's great."
I am prompted to analyze this spirited comment. Why does the Brazilain have to experience Thanksgiving? I mean, what is so great about the experience of over-eating, watching football, and being generally annoyed in the presence of people to whom you're embarrassed to be related? What is the significance of a holiday that does not appear to maintain any ties to its original purpose?
Nobody cares about the Pilgrims except 2nd grade teachers, and even the whole turkey motif is a tad worn down and juvenile (aside from the classic hand-traced turkey cut-out, which is one of the most reverent embodiments of the holiday).
From a contemporary point of view, Thanksgiving is about as relevant as Leif Erikson Day (which does actually exist). Historically, it's not even that cool; just another boring story about imperialism and exploitation with a charming white man's spin.
Only recently have we begun to steer away from legitimizing such holidays: Every year in Denver, the American Indian Movement (AIM) spearheads Transform Columbus Day, a direct action march that challenges the brutal legacy of a colonizer who's been celebrated since 1492. Even the fact that some schools no longer observe Columbus Day is evidence that we're beginning to question our roots (although in 2nd grade I would have been hard-pressed to not want the day off).
Is it finally time that we start transforming Thanksgiving Day, as well? Or is there even anything worth transforming about it? In reality, the worst part is that my creepy uncle still gives me wet willies even though I'm 23 years old.
While Thanksgiving may have no solid reason for existing, I can think of no solid reason for taking it away.
If anything, we're already transforming Thanksgiving. The Pilgrims are dead, the Native Americans are pissed, we have no idea why we're hanging out with our families at the end of November, and my creepy uncle has been asleep on the couch for the last three hours of the Macy's Day Parade. I somehow managed to convince my mom to have a vegan dinner this year, which seems like the antithesis to the turkey-centric bloodbath of a kill-fest that is usually considered custom.
I can't say that I think my Brazilian roommate is missing much - but I know that if it weren't for my family's ridiculous antics, I definitely would be. So what am I thankful for this year? Macy's 2007 Hello Kitty balloon, my uncle's unwavering inappropriate behavior and, of course, the day off of school.
Photo: Courtesy of Laron Fomby
