PHOTO COURTESY OF DREAMSTIME.COM

Photo of a Thanksgiving feast.

Yup, you read it here first, folks. And before a lot of people get offended, I’m not encompassing ALL white people when I say this. I can’t talk about all of the white population, because that’s generalizing. And obviously, I mean no harm by saying any of this. I mean, I love white people. Most of my friends are white. But, likely, if you’re offended by the end of this, I AM talking about you, so tread lightly and just have some fun.

Let’s start here: Thanksgiving as a holiday is pretty messed up. The first Thanksgiving was not a peaceful picture of Native Americans and colonial Englishfolk holding hands and giving thanks to a European God for blessing them with a great, big meal—a delicious bison, let’s say—in full, friendly embrace upon the coming of winter. If that’s what you visualize when you think about the origin of Thanksgiving, you’re just wrong, and I’m genuinely sorry that’s what you choose to believe.

Thanksgiving is, at its core, a celebration of the mass murder of indigenous Americans by English colonizers, disguised as a holiday about “giving thanks,” “loving your family and friends,” and “loving and thanking God.” Sure, totally, thank you SO much for dying off and leaving us here to take over your land in peace.

Next, I want to establish just a little bit of credibility for grounds to speak on this topic. I’m not Native American, not really. I don’t belong to any registered tribe, nor am I closely knit with any native languages or traditions. I’m Mexican. But I do want to say something about Mexican people: Mexican people are the outcome of generations of inbreeding, where white Spanish conquistadors impregnated indigenous women in Latin America for the purpose of enslavement and the production of more subjects to exploit. Ever heard of the encomienda system? Look it up.

Also, the most that the average, uncultured white person knows about Mexican culture is the food and Cinco de Mayo. Like, it’s the first thing I get asked about or commented on. “Oh, I bet your mom’s cooking is great!” And, you know what? Yes, it is, thank you. 

I can’t really be bothered if anyone wants to say Mexican food is bad, because it’s just not. Where does the average white family look when church lets out every Sunday afternoon? I’ll tell you: your favorite local Mexican restaurant.

I will say, white people love to brag about their Thanksgiving meal. Seriously, people rave on and on about it. “Oh sure, the holiday might be boring, but the food is so good.” And that’s great to hear, because I sure don’t hear it any other time of year. Why on Earth would anyone be raving on and on about some mashed potatoes and green bean casserole? I don’t know what they put in that stuff, but it must be magic.

I’m reminded of an encounter my friend had with another white girl, where they were talking about the different seasonings their families used in their food. I kid you not, her response was, “yeah, salt and pepper.” I’m not judging, I’m just concerned. 

White people’s cooking generally isn’t really good, and let me teach you some more history. When the Silk Roads came about a super long time ago (around 2nd century BCE), spices from East and South Asia were a coveted staple trade item among the highest classes and the royal European families. Then, like every other high-end item ever to exist, there was mass demand for spices and, over time, the lower classes got hold of them too. 

It was no longer the case that spices were a status symbol in Europe, so the royals stopped using spices in their food. Likewise, all of Europe followed in the footsteps of the high-class and European food was stripped of any trace of flavor it had possessed before. 

Spices are still associated with ethnic minority groups, and God forbid white people ever resemble the customs of ethnic minorities. So, centuries later, white people are really the only ones to blame for their food often being so bland. 

But that’s okay, because once every year on a busy fall afternoon, they lock in, and that’s super admirable. It might be for a holiday that commemorates the genocide of indigenous figures, but nonetheless, they lock in. Suddenly, for a one-night special, we get some flavor, we know how to use some seasonings, and we put away that Crockpot and Easy-Bake Oven.

Categories: Opinion