In the words of Isabel Call:
“It may be uncomfortable to hear about ‘the genocide of millions of Native people, the theft of Native lands, and the relentless assault on Native culture’ as you prepare for your Thanksgiving festivities. We celebrate Thanksgiving because gratitude is essential to human life. But grief is essential for healing our history of violence. It’s really hard to be thankful and sorrowful at the same time. But this is life: sometimes, joy and sorrow come together.”
Whatever table we might gather around at this Thanksgiving time, may we be aware of the great expanse of human experience…the joys and the sorrows, the laughter and the tears. And still, give thanks.
“Perhaps the World Ends Here” by Joy Harjo
The world begins at a kitchen table. No matter what, we must eat to live.
The gifts of earth are brought and prepared, set on the table. So it has been since creation, and it will go on.
We chase chickens or dogs away from it. Babies teethe at the corners. They scrape their knees under it.
It is here that children are given instructions on what it means to be human. We make men at it, we make women.
At this table we gossip, recall enemies and the ghosts of lovers.
Our dreams drink coffee with us as they put their arms around our children. They laugh with us at our poor falling-down selves and as we put ourselves back together once again at the table.
This table has been a house in the rain, an umbrella in the sun.
Wars have begun and ended at this table. It is a place to hide in the shadow of terror. A place to celebrate the terrible victory.
We have given birth on this table, and have prepared our parents for burial here.
At this table we sing with joy, with sorrow. We pray of suffering and remorse. We give thanks.
Perhaps the world will end at the kitchen table, while we are laughing and crying, eating of the last sweet bite.