editorial 2

thanksgiving transcends generations and cultures

   One extended family. Four generations. Four nationalities. Two friends. One disability, and an age range of 3 to 88 characterized those assembled to celebrate Thanksgiving at the Sanchez house last year.    In short, we were the quintessential embodiment of the traditional celebration of the centuries-old American holiday.    My husband, Hector, hails from Puerto Rico (of course I know he’s American, but hey, according to the rules of international sports, Puerto Rico is a country), my cousin-in-law from South Africa, one friend from Mexico, and the rest of us from various parts of the U.S. My oldest daughter has Down syndrome.    The jobs those assembled have held include full-time mother, business owner, college professor, executive director of the Dallas Bar Association, teacher, sales representative, construction worker, fast-food employee, attorney, librarian and engineer. In short, we were a diverse group.    Case in point, we had both delicious cornbread giblet stuffing to appeal to the Southerners as well as yucky (exposure to other traditions does not always translate into acquiring a taste for their food) sausage stuffing to appeal to the Northerners.    In defiance of my-side-of-the-family’s convention of artful turkey carving, Hector demonstrated his family’s preference for efficiency over form and hacked the bird to bits. As he began his assault, the spectacle began to draw a crowd who witnessed it with varying levels of horror and hilarity. My grandmother still laughs about it.    Although family gatherings generate a good amount of stress and earn their fair share of scorn in popular culture, they also convey great benefit. They offer an opportunity to practice tact and diplomacy, as well as to overlook human idiosyncrasies.    They offer the opportunity to network—to learn about Australia from the aunt who just visited or to figure out what to do about a misbehaving car from the auto enthusiast.    They offer youngsters the opportunity to see history come alive. I certainly took a greater interest in World War II in high school because my grandfather told the stories of his close calls while being a pilot and wing commander of a B-17 bombing squadron flying missions over Germany (such as the time he turned the radio back on because of a gut feeling— even though they were supposed to be silent— just in time to hear his tail gunner shouting “Dive, dive.” Because he did, he and his crew survived that mission.)    But holidays not only give us a connection to world history but also give us a connection to family history, and consequently, a better understanding of who we are. They cement our identity, creating a web of interconnected people with whom we share a story.    At Thanksgiving, young children hear stories from grandparents, great-grandparents, aunts and uncles that add the color commentary to their family history.    The news, however, flows both ways. The octogenarian gets to learn about Taylor Swift and the newest smartphone app, while the teenager gets to learn about Big Band music and party-line phones.    Counterintuitively, by interacting with the micro group that is family, we broaden our experience of the larger world.    The glass-half-empty side of Thanksgiving is the long lines at the airport, the congested interstate highways and the jacked-up prices for plane tickets. What fills the glass is millions of Americans, jumping through hoops, exerting time, energy and money to be with family. And for that we should be grateful.    Family remains the touchstone for millions of us. We might be pulled far from our family the rest of the year, either through geographic distance or the busy pace of daily life, but the fact remains that we will go to great lengths to reconnect with them.    Each gathering in turn contributes to the family lore. Although children might enjoy hearing about something nutty their mom did when she was little, they might also like to tell their own story of Thanksgivings past, such as the year Papi hacked the turkey to pieces.    A day dedicated to gratitude befits a country with so much for which to be thankful.    The effort millions of Americans make to be with their loved ones reflects the fact that for many of us, our family is the root of those blessings. 

the statement of evidence is entertainment :the spectacle began to draw a crowd who witnessed it with varying levels of horror and hilarity

i dont really agree with this statement. its more of just telling a story. it doesnt really fit into anything.