What does it mean to celebrate a holiday of giving thanks for a freedom acquired through colonialism and genocide? When I sit with my origin story, it does not feel comfortable.

For indigenous communities, America’s Thanksgiving is a day of mourning.

I am not indigenous to this land renamed America. The shelves of my childhood classrooms were filled with my white-washed history that lauded Christopher Columbus and the hardships endured by the pilgrims. In music class, we sang America’s patriotic songs, which proclaimed this beautiful land as rightfully ours. The mascot of my high school was “The Red Raider” until just a few months ago. Never did we speak of those who were displaced, murdered, and robbed of their land. Never did we talk about the true origin story of acquired land.

Ignorance should never be an excuse for comfort and complacecy.

My ancestral origins are spread across the European continent. Although I may not be directly responsible for the colonizing this land, it is my origin story. If I am going to take a seat at a Thanksgiving table it should not feel comfortable.