Now that it’s November and students are nearing the end of their mid-term examinations, I’ve been hearing a great deal of talk surrounding our upcoming Thanksgiving break. Some students are deciding if they should stay on campus or fly home, others are stressing about the fact that they are bringing their significant others to meet their parents for the first time. Yet, neither of those are a concern for me – the former simply because Thanksgiving has never really been celebrated by my family and the latter because, well, I’m single right now.
It’s not to say that my family’s never celebrated Thanksgiving at all. I have a few vague recollections of purchasing a ham from the Honeybaked Ham store and one recent memory of bonding with family friends over a smoked turkey. But, for the most part, it almost felt as though we were going through the motions of Thanksgiving in an effort to give the American tradition a try – but without genuine feeling for the holiday. It’s hard to reunite with family members, as the tradition seems to dictate, when most relatives live overseas in Asia and have little idea what Thanksgiving is or can’t afford to whisk off to America for a brief weekend. Yes, my intermediate family could have used the day as a way of sitting down for a bite to eat, but with only three people, that wouldn’t make Thanksgiving dinner more special than, well, any other evening meal. So, in light of this, what has Thanksgiving come to mean to me in the 14 years I’ve been here? Truthfully, it’s really become the one day of the year in which I feel the most foreign.
It started when my childhood best friend invited me to have Thanksgiving dinner at her house. I was about seven at the time and she made promises of candy, Dr. Pepper, and a fun-filled sleepover, so I accepted. After all, my family had no prior plans for the night. When I arrived there, though, I was greeted by a dozen people who I had never seen before – relatives that had travelled across the country just for Thanksgiving dinner. And, oh, the food! Although I arrived in the late afternoon, I was quickly informed that her aunt, mom, and grandmother had been in the kitchen since early that morning. No store-bought, pre-cooked ham here. Before the eating commenced, everyone was asked to name what they were thankful for that year. It was a Thanksgiving straight out of the television shows that I so devotedly watched. A Thanksgiving that I never thought I’d experience on my own because I didn’t think that people really celebrated the holiday with such extravagance. I would return back to her house for Thanksgiving three or four more times. Last year, I stayed with a family friend and his family in Washington D.C. for Thanksgiving and this year I’ll be traveling to a high school friend’s house for holiday dinner. In essence, partaking in other families’ Thanksgivings has become my tradition.
What struck me as the most interesting aspect of these dinners, however, was the fact that most of the people who shared the table with me were nearly dumbstruck because I wasn’t at home that day. It was more understandable last year since it’s costly and time-consuming to fly from Philadelphia to San Francisco, but in the days of my youth, when my friend’s house was a mere 15 minute drive, the idea of spending Thanksgiving with another family was baffling. It was those moments – when I was constantly asked (even in jest), “Why are you here? Does your family not care about you or something?” that I felt the most un-American. I had every other holiday – Halloween, Christmas, even Valentine’s Day – down to a tee, but why couldn’t I master Thanksgiving? Or, rather, why had my family never embraced the event like we had every other Hallmark holiday?
It’s become clearer over the years that we never really adopted the tradition because we didn’t need to. Perhaps it’s because this is intrinsically tied to our Asian culture, but we see our close family friends almost every weekend for lunch or dinner. As for extended family, my mother and I venture to Singapore on a yearly basis to see everyone there. There is really no need for a dedicated day every year to reunite with those close to us because we do it so often anyway. Yes, the thought of getting together over plates of candied yams and cranberry sauce is a cozy one, but the act of putting together such an extravagant meal is almost as superfluous as the amount of food we’d have left over given the relatively small circle of friends and relatives we have in the United States. So, instead, we refrain from the act, acknowledging the holiday but not adopting the traditions so widely celebrated by our neighbors, colleagues, and school friends. I can’t speak for everyone in the Asian American community, but this is completely fine with me. After all, as much as I enjoy candied yams, turkey isn’t all that great, anyway.
2 comments:
I think your own way of celebrating Thanksgiving is great, because you get so much from both cultures anyway. I think it's a thing we all need to try to learn; you don't have to become someone else - instead we can try to adapt to eachother.
i can relate to this perspective, for sure! but for my family, it isn't so much about giving thanksgiving a try for the sake of becoming even more american (like, seriously, we ARE americans!). but i think we figure that, since the whole nation is taking the time off to spend time with their own families, hell, we'll do the same ourselves. so we get together, eat food, and hang out. sometimes someone will bring over a turkey. and of course, there will be mash potatoes and stuffing. but all that will be served alongside chow mein, eggrolls, roasted duck, and the like -- all yummy! and we don't just sit at a table, and we don't go around saying what we're thankful for. it is more of a buffet type thing, and we just sit around watching azn-style pop music videos and shows.
i think that's one of the best things about being an asian-american. you can pick and choose which cultural practices on both sides to celebrate and take joy from.
:)
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