Gratitude and Remembrance: Transforming Thanksgiving

Gratitude and Remembrance: Transforming Thanksgiving

Each November, we’re invited to gather around tables, share abundance, and give thanks. Yet for many, the story of Thanksgiving carries a deep ache — one that cannot be covered by pumpkin pie and polite gratitude.

Beneath the traditions and imagery lies a history of violence, displacement, and erasure. To honor gratitude in its truest form, we must also honor truth. This season offers us not only a chance to give thanks, but also to remember, reconcile, and consciously choose a new way forward.

Facing the Roots of the Holiday

The Thanksgiving narrative many of us learned as children — a peaceful meal between Pilgrims and Indigenous people — was a simplified and sanitized story. It obscured the genocide, enslavement, and cultural destruction that followed colonization of this land.

The first official “Thanksgiving” proclamations celebrated military victories over Indigenous nations, not shared meals. While gratitude has always been a sacred human practice, the holiday as it evolved became intertwined with colonial mythology — a story designed to comfort, not confront.

Acknowledging this truth isn’t about guilt or shame. It’s about clarity, compassion, and the collective healing that becomes possible when we stop turning away from pain.

Gratitude with Eyes Wide Open

When we practice gratitude consciously, it becomes more than a feel-good exercise — it becomes a form of resistance, remembrance, and renewal.

True gratitude doesn’t bypass discomfort; it makes space for it.
It allows us to hold the fullness of the human experience — the joy, the sorrow, the complexity — and still say, I choose to honor what gives life meaning.

We can be grateful for the food on our tables and still grieve the land it came from.
We can celebrate community while acknowledging those whose communities were stolen.
We can pray for abundance and still remember those for whom survival was resistance.

This kind of gratitude is not performative — it is embodied. It roots us in presence and awareness. It asks us to give thanks with integrity.

Transforming the Tradition

If we wish to transform Thanksgiving into something sacred and inclusive, we begin by reframing it — not as a day of national pride, but as a Day of Gratitude and Remembrance.

Here are a few ways to do that consciously:

1. Begin with Acknowledgment

Open your gathering with a Land Acknowledgment — a moment to recognize the Indigenous peoples whose lands you now inhabit. Speak their names, honor their stewardship, and reflect on what gratitude looks like in action toward them.

“We acknowledge that we gather on the ancestral lands of the Ojibwe, Odawa, and  Potawatomi Nations, who have cared for this place for generations. May we honor their wisdom, resilience, and presence as we give thanks today.”

2. Shift the Story

Share what you’re grateful for, yes — but also what you’re committed to learning, unlearning, and doing differently. Invite reflection on how gratitude can be lived through compassion, justice, and community care.

3. Practice Remembrance

Light a candle for those who came before — those who endured, resisted, and made it possible for us to stand here now. Let this be a moment of reverence for both loss and resilience.

4. Support Indigenous Voices

Use your gratitude to uplift action. Learn from and donate to Indigenous-led organizations, artists, and educators. Let your thanks ripple into tangible change.

5. Reclaim the Energy of Thanks

Remember that gratitude is not bound to one holiday. It is a daily practice, a sacred exchange of breath and awareness. Every act of kindness, every mindful choice, every prayer for the collective good — these are forms of living gratitude.

From Colonial Celebration to Collective Healing

This is not about canceling Thanksgiving. It’s about evolving it. About peeling back the layers of myth to rediscover what’s real, human, and holy underneath.

Gratitude, when stripped of its colonial framing, becomes one of our most powerful healing tools. It restores balance between giving and receiving. It reminds us that abundance is not domination — it’s reciprocity. It invites us to show up as better humans, aware of the cost of forgetting and the beauty of remembering.

So as you gather this year, may your table be one of truth and tenderness.

May your gratitude be deep enough to hold history, wide enough to include healing, and bold enough to inspire change. May remembrance move us all toward reconciliation, compassion, and collective renewal.