The Meaning of Thanksgiving

GOBBLE, GOBBLE

(When I typed the title I first wrote "meatning" -- what a funny Freudian slip ... although really it's just fat fingers trying to fly. I still need to buy my turkey for next week!)

Yesterday I went to Jane's class's Thanksgiving feast. All four first grade classrooms do that every year. Other grades do other holidays I guess -- Kindergarten was Spooky Science with Dad on Halloween, and we'll find out what the other grades do when we get there. Shawn couldn't come with me because the feast was scheduled during the time he teaches. It was OK on my own though, despite the fact that I feel the twin emotions of inadequate and better than when I'm around the higher class parents who predominantly make up the school we attend.

The program was very cute -- the kids had memorized poems, which they said together, and each had an individual part of a single poem said with two or three others from the class. Jane's part was about a wishbone and the poem was about pulling it, making a wish and the sister gets the bigger half. All of the kids remembered their parts and only a few were nervous (including Jane, who swayed while she recited, something I did EXACTLY when I was Mary in my ~5th grade Christmas play at school ... I remember someone asking me after if I was supposed to sway with the music like that ... nope!). Jane could still be heard and said every word in time!

A few things were problematic, just in the poem selections and the lack of curriculum that discusses the actual horrors of Thanksgiving -- the arrival of pilgrims and what it meant to the Native American populations. There were some cutesy lines about friendship and love between Indians and Pilgrims, and I understand that the full thrust of American history doesn't need to be on display at a first grade recital, but neither should it be sanitized in such a way that we forget (or in many cases have to wait and learn when we're much older, if we learn at all).

This Decolonizing Thanksgiving toolkit has popped up in several places online for me. I have briefly perused it but need to dive deeper, to learn for myself so I can talk about it more clearly and age appropriately with Jane, and possibly steel myself to make suggestions to the school (apparently schools because I saw some pictures from Livia's school's 3-year-old program and there were kids dressed as Indian caricatures and NO NO NO).

There were also a few poems that were subtly sexist -- making fun of "bumbling dad" for not carving the turkey well and being preoccupied with football on Thanksgiving. #NotAllDads? It was minor, but for whatever it's worth (not much), my brain is in tune to spot things like that. If not able to articulate WHY I can at least notice them and realize I'm uncomfortable with it for SOME reason. It was a weird deal.

The feast itself was Chik-Fil-A chicken nuggets, fruit and mini bundt cakes (i.e. the most expensive cupcakes possible, which they asked for by name). I brought half the needed mini waters. My kid is one of the few who does not like chicken nuggets, so it was a struggle. She hasn't been eating breakfast lately (says her stomach hurts so it probably does -- maybe from the ear ache), so I negotiated her to eat one nugget. She had a cookie and one of the bundt cakes, and although multiple kids were having multiple treats the girls across from us pointed out Jane eating two, as if I was supposed to stop her or say something. I have some thoughts/feelings about that too, but no time to unpack them now!

Books for a Younger Me

© 2007 Heather R, Flickr | CC-BY-SA | via Wylio

We've joined a new Sunday school class, and it's still trying to find its footing. We left our previous class after the sabbatical mainly because we wanted a more progressive study of Scripture. I know it's hurt some feelings, and I am disappointed because I loved the people in our previous class and have deep relationships with them. We still see them, of course, our church isn't so big that you can really avoid anyone if you wanted. But it's a different season in our life and things change. Minneapolis certainly changed us.

Anyway, in the new class we're trying out different things and one we're considering is The Wired Word, a resource that takes current events and turns them into Sunday school lessons. For $80/year the leader gets a weekly email with a LOT of information plus discussion questions about 2-3 topics. The one we looked at this last week was about books and their impact on us as people of faith.

One of the questions that stumped me was something like "What book (other than the Bible) do you wish you'd read at a younger age?" Others in the class had good answers, but because of my Swiss cheese memory and despite being a pretty voracious reader, I couldn't think of a good answer. Even now a few days later I don't have a single book I could point to. (One that did come to mind but is not the point is my favorite breastfeeding book by Dr Jack Newman and how I wish I'd had that resource when I was in my nursing relationship with Jane!)

Something I wish I had been more aware of is the colonization of Native Americans in our country. I grew up in a place called Indiahoma, i.e. home of the Indians, and had many classmates and friends who were of Native descent. My attitudes toward them were not always fair, especially when they received school supplies and shoes from the government. Knowing what I do now changes my perspective significantly. But I'm not sure a kid brain could process it fully? But I certainly could have been a less snotty little kid to others!

There's no one book I can point to that's shifted my thinking on this or other matters. But I have read books! I also follow people on social media, especially Twitter, who open my eyes to others' experiences and how words and actions matter.

I signed up to be a Reconciling United Methodist today (who knew you could do that?!), and I think the new Sunday school class will work together to gain a reconciling designation as well. It's a small step toward a reconciling CONGREGATION, which I don't see happening for our church any time soon as much as I wish it would. I will continue to seek steps to seek justice and reconciliation for all people within the United Methodist Church.

A Day Without A Woman: What is Labor?

Today is A Day Without a Woman.

I'm "on strike" today, although I can't fully release myself from child care. Partly because I'm a nursing mom and partly because someone's gotta do it and it might as well be me. Shawn is leaning into housework and child care otherwise though. And we're all wearing red! And not spending any money today.

It's made me think about what labor is, since some things I do for myself, just general self care. I'd make a meal for myself if I didn't have the family to labor for. (To get around it I made a casserole yesterday that we can just heat and eat.) I'd also make my bed, so I made my half and Shawn made his half - LOL!

Does blogging count as labor? You could say I'm a small, woman-owned business, which is one of the exceptions for where strikers can shop. Even if it does count as labor, I'm still writing because I want to mark this day.

When talking about it with Jane (and fighting with her about wearing red instead of her favorite Avenger's shirt), I explained that boys and girls are equal, and we deserve equal pay for equal work. She quickly asked about Donald Trump, and I explained that this particular issue existed before him and will after him too.