Thanksgiving is a challenge for me. On the one hand, it is my favorite holiday because it’s a rare time for family to gather without being centered on gift giving or even decoration — except, I confess, I can’t resist the cute turkey shaped napkin rings. On the other hand, I understand the importance of expressing gratitude and how beneficial that can be for one’s health and well-being.
Giving thanks, wrote the great Persian poet, Rumi, is good for our physical, emotional and mental health. It turns out that science backs this up. The Women’s Alzheimer’s Movement reports that recent brain research proves that a simple practice of gratitude can rewire neurons in our brains, enabling us to think more positively as happy chemicals replace some of the stressful ones. So I’m thankful for a holiday that focuses on gratitude and indeed, I have much to be grateful for.
However, I cannot celebrate Thanksgiving without also reflecting on the many reasons that Thanksgiving, for most Indigenous communities, has been declared a Day of Mourning — mourning the great loss of lives and land and culture that followed the arrival of those first Thanksgiving celebrants. That theft and genocide is the real story behind that made-up story about the Pilgrims and the Native American communities happily celebrating together.
This disconnect between the dark, true history and the story we were taught about that first Thanksgiving was something I was privileged to explore up close on one very special Thanksgiving Day two decades ago while I was working on a television series originated and funded by my boss at the time, Ted Turner. He wanted to document the full history of the more than 500 tribal communities. With Ted’s direction and the support of Executive Producer Robert Redford (who was mentoring Indigenous storytellers at the Native Lab of the Sundance Institute), we put together a creative team of Indigenous historians, tribal leaders from each region of this country, and writers and directors. On that 1995 Thanksgiving Day, we were on the San Ildefonso Pueblo filming an interview with the legendary potter Blue Corn. After the interview, she invited us to share a "thanksgiving dinner." We were surprised by the reference to "thanksgiving," but honored to be invited.
Deirdra Peaches, video
Inside her family home, we were served a spectacular feast of fresh bread, baked in the horno outside, along with many special traditional dishes. There was no talk of that first "Thanksgiving," but as we sat together at a long table, Blue Corn’s father stood to offer a prayer in his language. We didn’t understand the words but we felt their meaning.
It was both a prayer of gratitude for the many blessings of family and community, and a prayer of mourning calling for restoration of what had been lost or stolen. I was struck by his prayers of gratitude for Mother Earth and the natural resources of water, air, animals, and plants. Remember, this was 1995 and the phrase 'climate change' was not in our everyday language and we were not yet mourning a shared loss of ecosystems, species and livelihoods.
It is that connection with the earth, so much more deeply rooted in Indigenous communities everywhere that we should be celebrating – and emulating – in every Thanksgiving blessing at every table. Because what we cherish, our sustainable forces for life, are in crisis.
This Thanksgiving, much to my delight, I received my copy of Susan Walker's IBU movement newsletter in my inbox. In it, she offers inspiring profiles of women artisans from around the world and beautiful images of their handmade products which are supported through the IBU Foundation. I asked Susan permission to share a portion of what she wrote today which I share below. (But I also recommend the entire post, available here. You can subscribe to Susan's newsletter here.)
“The Thanksgiving Address" — a river of words as old as the nations of the Haudenosaunee Confederacy who recite it — is known more accurately in the Onondaga language as The Words That Come Before All Else.
At the beginning of every gathering and every week of school, young students and adults alike pause to recite—not the Pledge of Allegiance (liberty and justice for all having eluded them)—but in a language older than English, a litany greeting all members of the natural world—the Earth, Waters, Fish, Plants, Animals, Trees, Medicine Herbs, Winds, Thunderers, Sun/Moon/Stars, Enlightened Teachers, The Creator—each, with gratitude.
When gratitude is the first word and the last, everything in between is enough.
Now, more than ever, I want to stand on the ground of gratitude. I want to start this day, and every day, with a heart holding the grace of all that is given, singing the words that come before all else. . . I want, in this life, to shape myself into one clear note, flung to the sky, in the music of thanksgiving."
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Thank you, Susan, for the gift of these words to add a more balanced shape and meaning to this Thanksgiving day and to the work ahead to restore the earth and to honor, respect and learn from what is past and what we can — and must — do to reclaim and restore the balance for all of us who live together on this beautiful planet.
That will be a true time of Thanksgiving.
Onward!
- Pat
