I’m ready to say something on a community platform. Writing this blog is difficult, but I must process, be authentic, and speak my truth.
The recent election results initially left me quite despondent. I am sad and fearful about what is to come. My life’s work has led me to prioritize and elevate women. In this work, I encourage those I coach, my dear clients, and my beautiful horseshoe of friends to speak their truth unapologetically, and I am modeling that for them now.
How our nation voted for a person with a track record of exploiting, abusing, and belittling women is a mystery to me. I could write for days about all the scary policies he plans to put in place and why I am especially fearful for my LGBTQ+ friends and young girls. But with Thanksgiving on the horizon, the issues of immigration and border control are at the top of my mind, and they seem so parallel to the story of “the first Thanksgiving.” So, this year, I am compelled to step back and reflect on the deeper truths and injustices tied to this holiday and our nation today.
The history behind Thanksgiving is far from the harmonious narrative many of us were taught. While Thanksgiving often inspires acts of generosity (ah, what a comforting narrative!), what we are taught as children indeed obscures the devastating violence endured by Native communities during an era of conquest and colonization.
The Wampanoag people, whose land and resources the early settlers relied on, extended kindness to the Pilgrims, literally saving their lives. Yet their generosity was met with betrayal, violence, and the eventual colonization of their lands. This paradox—celebrating a story of survival and community while ignoring the devastating cost to Indigenous peoples—is one I can no longer overlook. What hypocrisy! If we are truly grateful for what we have, we must honor the sacrifices and acknowledge the continued struggles of Native communities that persist to this day.
Our nation is facing a moral crisis. The President-elect has made clear his intention to use military forces to deport millions of undocumented immigrants, even though most of them are people who contribute to our economy, enrich our culture, and, in many cases, have fled unimaginable hardships to seek safety here. The irony is unbearable: the United States was built by immigrants who sought a better life, and yet we now turn away those who are risking their lives for the same opportunity. The consequences of mass deportation will be catastrophic for our economy and our moral fabric. Why can’t we find a compassionate middle ground?
So I find myself asking, “How can we give thanks for our “blessings” while simultaneously and violently rejecting those who seek refuge and opportunity among us?
The answer for me is that I cannot. And so, instead of celebrating, I am boycotting Thanksgiving this year. I am dedicating this time to reflection, to advocacy, and to redoubling my commitment to justice and equity for all.
I cannot in good conscience share a feast with loved ones to celebrate how great our ancestors were for risking it all by coming here while my country makes plans to send our armed forces door to door to expel people who have come to America for the same reasons. I simply can’t. And I won’t.
It hurts my heart to not be with the people I love on Thanksgiving. And I apologize to those who were looking forward to celebrating with me. But it breaks my heart even more to think about what is about to happen in this country, and I cannot pretend everything is ok, not even for a day.
My challenge to you:
- Question, or at least be curious about, the history behind the traditions we uphold.
- Express empathy to your neighbors who fear their families may be torn apart and help them if you can.
- Extend compassion to the military personnel who are to be tasked with the heartbreaking duty of separating families and support them if they refuse to cooperate.
- Recognize that gratitude must be expressed by more than words. Gratitude should be demonstrated through actions that honor truth, dignity, and inclusion.