When I was around seven or eight years old, I watched the movie “Free Birds” and decided to become vegetarian. Looking back, I don’t consider that to be my vegetarian origin story mainly because I grew up with vegetarian parents and didn’t really eat much meat anyway. Nevertheless, that Thanksgiving, I was eager to pass on the turkey when the plate made its way around the table.
In itself, Thanksgiving was never that exciting to me. I had been taught from a young age that it was the celebration of violence and colonization that had been rebranded as a story of coming together. Though dark, it was a truth that shaped the way I viewed the holiday. It wasn’t until I left home and went to college that I began to truly appreciate Thanksgiving as something to celebrate.
The fact that I’m away from my family that I am so rooted in becomes very apparent each time the weather gets colder and the sun starts to set at 4:30 p.m. At this point in the semester, I’m yearning for my Amtrak ride home. Though the origins of the holiday remain distorted from the reason millions of Americans celebrate, ours is centered on family and gratitude, which I can always get behind.
When I was a child, one of the only parts of the holiday I looked forward to was watching the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade in the living room in the morning with my brother while our parents were in the kitchen cooking. When the fridge would run out of space for all of the dishes, my dad would walk through the living room to get to the back door, stopping to watch the parade on the television as he was on his way outside to leave the dishes sitting in the crisp November air.
We had a tradition that during the commercials, my brother and I would take turns running into the kitchen to make the mashed potatoes. In hindsight, it was probably because they were the only dish my mom trusted we wouldn’t burn or ruin, but we took it very seriously. I loved the mornings of Thanksgiving when the anticipation was high but my relatives hadn’t arrived quite yet, and the all-encompassing holiday joy seemed to be right around the corner.
Despite the fact that my parents and I are vegetarian, that never stopped a turkey from appearing on the table. Stuffing, mac and cheese, cranberry sauce, green beans and rolls were all foods we looked forward to eating. Additionally, I grew up in Baltimore in a predominantly German family which meant our table also always had sauerkraut. Sauerkraut, a staple in the German (and Baltimorian) diet, is a beloved tradition in my family. It wasn’t until I was older that I realized not everyone’s family spent days fermenting cabbage in their Thanksgiving preparations.
People regularly ask me what I eat in my daily life if not meat, and the question definitely comes up around Thanksgiving time. I’ve never been one to get irritated by the question, in fact I find it funny that most people don’t realize they eat vegetarian meals all the time. Almost every Thanksgiving food can be made vegetarian (or already is) but often a Tofurky will appear on our table. It’s no one’s favorite in particular, but my dad gets excited about the holidays and sometimes can’t help himself. The thing about Tofurky is that it’s always a bit of a disappointment, tasting like, as my dad describes it, “glue and chicken.”
Last year, for the first time, my mom and I baked an apple pie from scratch. It was golden-brown, bubbly and, despite its imperfections in appearance, extremely delicious. Though we all devoured it, my grandfather enjoyed it the most, likely because he loved anything containing sugar. That pie brought out a child-like joy in him, like a kid in a candy store.
It’s hard to believe that the end of the year has snuck up so quickly. Yet, it’s evident as the branches become more bare each day and the ground more colorful. My favorite Thanksgiving tradition, though a little cheesy, is going around the table before eating and each saying what we are thankful for. Things around the world are grim, but for that meal, there is always an abundance of gratitude to be shared.
