What I Wish I Were Thankful For

It’s that week, that month, when middle-class Americans start listing their “thankfuls”. I suppose I’m in that group, and I can admit to my temptations.

As a mother I find it important to demonstrate the need to be grateful for what we have been given… what we have been blessed with.

As this week came near, however, I found myself wondering just how thankful I really should be. Yes, of course there are many things I should be grateful for. I’m sure I’ll do my middle-class white-girl “thankfuls” for you in another post, regardless. I’m also sure that we should be honest with ourselves.

I wish I were thankful to be an American. I wish that, on this holiday, I could feel grateful that hundreds of years ago a group of people ate dinner together.

But I can’t. I can’t sit here and smile and pretend that this moment in time was what defined that era; the violence of shoving an entire group of people from their lands is what defined the United States of America. For centuries we have focused on this one day when people came together, and colonists were given a small “okay, we give” from natives who had done no wrong and did not deserve to be pushed from their ways of life.

 

I wish I were thankful that our laws treated all people as equal.

I wish I were thankful we had elected officials in office I could believe in.

I wish I weren’t part of a race who recently tried to shove hate toward people of other races and backgrounds.

I wish people who followed my religion treated people the same regardless of their sins and life choices.

 

On a more personal note,

I wish this holiday were as beloved to me now as it was when I was little.

I wish I still celebrated this holiday the way I used to: by giving back and volunteering each year.

I wish this holiday, and the days that follow, weren’t so filled with commercialism.

I wish I could afford to abstain from the commercialized side of this holiday, and still give my little girl the holiday season she wants and deserves.

I wish I felt like I could give her all of that without spending money. I wish the thought that money, and giving money, weren’t equated with giving love in my brain.

I wish I were thankful for this holiday, but I find that I’m not.

I am, however, thankful for the pumpkin pie, the first annual glass of egg nog, and the promise of time spent around the table sharing memories.

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