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JOURNAL
November 2004
A THANKSGIVING MESSAGE
Growing up and well into my adult years, the best Thanksgiving celebrations were the ones I spent with Uncle Keith's family in northern Vermont. As children, Dad would rouse us out of bed and pack us into the car, sometimes as early as four in the morning, and drive the four-hour journey through the dark, winding, wooded roads unimpeded by the traffic — of northern New England! We would often arrive before Aunt Frances put the turkey in the oven or before my cousins were out of bed.
For several hunger-inducing hours, we would all have the chance to visit each other and catch up on our lives. Dad and Keith, his brother, were only two years apart but polar opposites in many ways. While they both grew up in a small, lumber-producing town in northern Maine, at adulthood they went in different directions. Dad graduated from the "school of hard knocks", as he'd say, and Keith became the first Hall in his generation to become college-educated. Both were well-read and well-informed of the world in their own right. Dad became a conservative Republican, Keith a liberal Democrat.
And that's where the fun began for me on those Thanksgiving mornings. It wasn't long before the political arguments started, especially if it was an election year. It was from the two of them on those holiday mornings that I learned the love of debating — and cursing. While the arguments were sometimes heated and peppered with salty language, there was never malice or hurt feelings. One memorable year, the argument over presidents went all the way back to Abraham Lincoln, whom my father victoriously declared was a Republican — to which Uncle Keith countered, "Well, that was when the Republicans were Democrats, not like they are today!" My mother, exasperated, yelled out, "No more politics! It's time to eat!" I loved every minute of it.
Our two families were a fabric interweaved with many differences. I was a Democrat like Uncle Keith; his oldest daugher was a conservative Republican like Dad — and she was deeply religious to boot, a passion her younger sisters didn't seem to share. Keith's family had amazing talents in the fine arts; our family was more music and sports oriented.
As my generation grew into adulthood and then still a new generation was springing up, the differences continued to show themselves. There became an intermingling of ethnic and racial backgrounds, faiths, careers and education specialties in all fields, rural and urban preferences, large families and singles, sexual orientation, and income levels. I would argue that the fabric was growing stronger with our respect for each other's differences, not fraying.
Whatever the differences, and however loudly we voiced our opinions, by the time we gathered around the Thanksgiving table, we gave thanks for our blessings and implicitly realized that our common love was stronger than any political disagreement.
This Thanksgiving, we Americans are seeing divisions amongst ourselves that threaten to tear us apart as a nation. Rather than getting caught up in polls and political experts on television telling us how divided we are, let us remember that the strongest bonds are formed in small groups.
I had my Thanksgiving early this year. Last week a group of about fifteen from my church had an outing of bowling. The group was small, but encompassed white, black, hispanic, asian, old, young, married and single, straight and gay. We hooted, hollered and high-fived our way through a few hours of bowling, then enjoyed a meal together. Our differences were never discussed.
If we try to forge our identity through something so large and cumbersome as the church community or the African-American community or the Hispanic community or the gay community or the southern community or the farming community or the environmental community, we are bound to feel stuck, powerless and unloved.
If, however, we can reach out to each other, one by one, hand by hand, we are likely to discover that there is more that holds us together than keeps us apart. Look for something to love in everyone you meet, and don't stop loving until the other meets you halfway.
We can begin the dialogue and the healing this Thanksgiving. Let's get to know each other. Respect each other. Perhaps love each other. There's a whole, exciting world to discover through the people right in our midst. Let's reach across the table.
What's Your Opinion?
KevScoHall@Verizon.net