Thanksgiving, right? The Indians and the settlers, in the 1600s, sharing food and hopes for the future.
And according to lots of sources (like Mayflower, by Nathaniel Philbrick), most of the people at that celebration did actually live harmoniously together for the rest of their lives.
Things did start to break down, of course, as they often do. There were murders on both sides of the aisle, and a war not too far down the road. And WAAAAAY later, there were horrors and very bad behavior.
Some people, yes, you know who you are, even try to sort of downgrade Thanksgiving in a sardonic, ironic kind of way. Sort of like, “yay, let’s celebrate lies and deception and giving Indians smallpox-laden blankets.”
But that’s a bunch of hooey. It’s as if we shouldn’t celebrate… let’s say, Lincoln’s birthday because one of his descendants was an asshole.
[For one thing, there doesn’t seem to be any evidence that anyone ever purposely gave the Indians smallpox-laden blankets. They entertained the idea for sure, but people entertain lots of ideas in war (this was the French-Indian war). Maybe it happened, but we don’t know. In any case, it was British soldiers (not settlers at all) a hundred and fifty years later, so what does one thing have to do with the other?]
Thanksgiving was, in fact, a coming together of Peoples. That’s good enough for me, and I’ll enjoy my family and food without the slightest feeling of irony. And you should, too.
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