As the oldest of four kids, Thanksgiving was my least favourite holiday. I did like having the family come from all over Ontario, something I appreciate much more now that I am older.
My dislike of Thanksgiving was not for any of the popular political/ soapbox reasons about natives and the New World or even the mass killing of turkeys… I didn’t like all the extra work and the arguing and the fact that we spent most of the day and the day before making pies, homemade bread, all those vegetables and then it was all over (for the men) in about 20 minutes.
For the rest of us, myself and my Mother and my Grandmother, there was another hour of clean up. My brother would help sometimes – he surprises me every family holiday now because he is the first one up helping to clean up and serve the dinner, every single time. My two sisters were very little help. Sure, they had the excuse of being younger, but they could have done more. Ironically, one of my sisters now says she always helped and I was the one who did nothing. Yet, somehow I remember peeling apples for pies and she was never there. I remember mashing potatoes, washing dishes, setting the table… no sister visible.
More than siblings, I resented the men at Thanksgiving. Not my Grandfather, because he would pitch in a bit and he would have helped more if we had asked him. But, he seemed to have a pass on the work, an old traditional kind of guy and a quiet guy too. I mostly would be angry with my Dad. He would sit back, doing nothing and lord it over as if he were king of the castle and never had to lift a finger. Maybe that was the big difference in how I felt, his attitude. My Uncle would be there too, he would bring plates out and mostly clear the table. But most years he was too full to do much and happy to watch TV with the other men.
In the kitchen, that’s where Thanksgiving always seemed to be for me. We would be washing dishes before dinner, and again after dinner. Putting turkey and cabbage rolls and all those vegetables into serving dishes and platters and then putting all the leftovers into storage containers. Hours of time making pies and homemade bread. Some years we made apple strudel too, from scratch just like the bread and pies. My Mom and I worked together all Thanksgiving Day.
When my Grandmother (and sometimes my Aunt) came over they joined in. We talked about family history, people I had only met once (that I could remember) in my life. There was gossip too. But there really wasn’t much conversation. We talked about what we were doing mainly, how to make the bread right. There were always instructions, especially for me, being the youngest and newest member of the baking/ cooking crew. My sisters, by almost never being there, missed out.
You may read this and think this isn’t painting an anti-Thanksgiving picture. But, that wasn’t how I felt about the baking and cooking with my Mother and Grandmother. I did like that part. I participated every year. Sometimes I would get impatient with being overloaded with instructions, as if I didn’t already know what I was doing. Sometimes I would become the topic of conversation and hear about everything I should be doing and thinking differently. As aggravating as that would be, I’ve come to understand it was well meant.
I’m less anti-Thanksgiving these days because of my brother. Isn’t it funny how life moves back on itself? I was so angry about being left with the women working while the men watched TV as if that was all they had to do all day (it pretty much was all they did as far as I could see). I could never understand why men were allowed, even expected, to be so useless and yet (in the case of my Dad) so critical too. He would criticise everything I did, as I got older I would try to not be there and do less. Then he would accuse me of hiding to avoid work. Of course, he didn’t have to hide to avoid work.
Anyway, my brother is different. I don’t know how or when it happened. He could have grown up to be a TV watching on Thanksgiving, like his Dad. But, he didn’t. It wasn’t while we grew up, he did help some but not the way he really pitches in now. I can go to his house for Thanksgiving and it can be me that does nothing but watch TV. I’m still kind of amazed by this every time.
So I’m less anti-Thanksgiving but it will never become one of my favourite holidays. What do you really think and feel about Thanksgiving in a personal way? Most people talk about the natives and old history that doesn’t affect most of us personally. For me that’s not what Thanksgiving is about. It’s not about the culling of turkeys, the native peoples or religion and being thankful to any god. Thanksgiving is about family, the good, the bad and the ugly, all part of a pack of people working together one way or another.
Politically Based Anti-Thanksgiving
Why Complicate Thanksgiving with Old News?
I know negative people and I know people who take on the woes of the world as if they were responsible for all of them, even though they could never have been in all those places at the same time. I don’t understand this way of thinking. You will never change everyone and even to try is breaking your own rules for everyone having freedom of thought and expression. So, why keep flogging a dead horse?
Enjoy Thanksgiving for what it is. Why make it so complicated with old news? I’m not going to take responsibility for something done before I was even born. I’m not going to drag religion into a holiday when I haven’t been inside a church in at least 10 years. I’m also going to eat turkey, guilt-free. I like meat. I don’t like tofu.
If you don’t like Thanksgiving and refuse to celebrate the holiday – do it for your own reasons.
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