By Jill Richardson
What do
turkey, sweet potatoes, and cranberries have in common?
Yes, you
eat them on Thanksgiving. Additionally, they are all distinctly American foods.
So are potatoes and the corn in your corn bread.
Believe
it or not, the day that Columbus blundered into the Americas back in 1492,
Europeans (and Asians and Africans) had none of those foods.
Thanksgiving
is perhaps the one day a year when we Americans celebrate with truly American
food.
In our
family, Thanksgiving means celebrating being together. We cherish the warmth
generated by love as much as the delicious meal. There’s no distraction of
Santa Claus or anything else. We’re all there for the food — and for each
other. (And, for some, for the football on TV.)
But what
about those Pilgrims and Indians?
Perhaps
you haven’t thought too much about them since grade school, back when you made
paper turkeys by tracing your hand in art class. But they are more relevant
than you might guess.
No part
of the traditional Thanksgiving meal would be possible — save perhaps the cranberries — without the ingenuity of Native
Americans. Centuries before the Pilgrims arrived on American shores, Native
Americans domesticated all the crops (and turkeys) we now take for granted.
For
Native American cultures, the arrival of the Pilgrims wasn’t exactly the
beginning of the end — because Native Americans and their cultures are still
alive today — but it did mark a moment when their continent was no longer their
own.
Truthfully,
the turning point had already come and gone. Tisquantum, the friendly Indian
that children learn about as “Squanto” in the Thanksgiving story, was actually
a Patuxet man whom Europeans kidnapped and brought to Europe long before the
Pilgrims sailed to Plymouth.
Years
later, when he returned to his home in Massachusetts, he found that his people
had been wiped out by an infectious disease brought by Europeans.
As
Europeans fanned out on this continent, they displaced Native Americans as they
went. Often, they destroyed the ecosystems the Native Americans relied upon to
survive.
I’ve
been fortunate enough to get to know the tribe near my home in San Diego, the
Kumeyaay. I consider myself lucky not only because they offer fantastic classes
on their language and culture, but also because they are here, in their
homeland. Many tribes were forced to give up their land and move somewhere else
— often to Oklahoma.
Another
stroke of luck: The ecosystems of San Diego remain relatively intact in large
stretches of the county. It’s not too hard to find elderberry, mesquite,
acorns, quail, or anything else one needs to cook up a Kumeyaay feast. Tribes
that once relied on bison cannot say the same.
The very
plants, animals, and landmarks of Southern California represent more to the
Kumeyaay than their food or building materials. Their religion is also based on
this very land. It’s a part of their identity.
The
Native Americans we superficially commemorate on Thanksgiving aren’t just a
part of this country’s history. They are here in the present, and often the
injustices against them from the past remain uncorrected.
This
year, we should all give thanks to Native Americans, who have contributed so
much to your holiday meal and to this nation. And consider: How can we right
the wrongs of the past committed against them?
OtherWords columnist
Jill Richardson is the author of Recipe
for America: Why Our Food System Is Broken and What We Can Do to Fix It. OtherWords.org
