As a younger guy, I protested the holiday due to the genocide it was founded on. In my older years I have come to the conclusion that it would be too easy and too sad for me to die alone and right. Sometimes you need to pick your battles and take the opportunities to enjoy the community support, and family around you when you have the chance.
This holiday, I often found myself thinking about the families of people who have been the victim of police violence. The idea that they must really struggle with these family events left me angrily cooking dinner sides and shoveling my driveway. My mind quickly turned to the rage I felt for the families of the perpetrators of such violence; I felt sickened by the idea that they get to spend these holidays with their families.
As the thoughts flowed through my veins I began to feel empathetic to my younger self and the rejection of such a celebrations. The protest of a genocidal holiday now transformed into a day spent thinking about police violence, after centuries some things stay the same. I pushed through it as my distance from those circumstances and my privileged permitted me to have a great thanksgiving. A day I got to see family that I had not seen in over a decade.
The evolutionary dynamics of life change is fascinating. I was fighting against my younger self while enjoying stories of life events that have been occurring in my families lives. Bouncing from the present to the past all the while enjoying the moment. It was a great day for me, if not for everyone who is experiencing hardships my privilege will not allow me to imagine.
Although the day was not vegan, we brought quite a bit of food and there were several accommodating dishes for us to partake.
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