Thanksgiving (Part I)

Skip to the bottom of this post if you don't care what I've been up to this weekend, and just want to read the sappy part.

Last night I kicked off the holiday season with Thanksgiving feast #1 of 3. I was invited by a friend to come along to Milwaukee, to the home of someone he hadn't seen in a decade. Now, those of you who know me have at least some idea of how much I love Thanksgiving. I was not going to say no, even at risk of an awkward evening surrounded by people I've never met. This is not what ended up happening anyway.

I wish I could think of an engaging way to write about this, but it's impossible to be smug about what I'm feeling right now. I had a really rough week. I fought with a loved one, struggled with loneliness, felt terrified about my financial situation, and was horrified by events around this country in which peaceful protesters were beaten and pepper sprayed. But then the weekend came, and I was able to fill it with good people and beautiful goings-on. It was like the universe came together for me in attempts to make amends for all the terrible things it had been leaving in my path lately.

Friday: I had Friday afternoon off for the first time since I started this job. A friend invited me to join her for yoga, and I almost cried I when I realized how badly I needed this. Her studio was having a special Thanksgiving deal where members could bring a friend for free. We stretched, strengthened, laughed, and opened up. The instructor kept saying things that made me feel she was reading my mind. All the tension I'd been storing started to jitter its way out of my body. We got done and I was a new person. I was breathing again. It's insane how much we internalize and normalize, and I'm going to try to remember that this week.

We then joined some more friends for dinner, to celebrate one of us finishing a big writing project (if she is reading this, she should let me know if she would like me to link to it here). None of us who were there have an easy time of things right now, and most of us are in jobs we don't want to end up in. But everyone there finds the energy and passion to do something they love. We muster the resources to create things, to improve the world even when it's giving us a beatdown. And, dammit, we had a great night. Thanks, friends.

Saturday: I got a custom order for some dinosaur mittens, which cost the same amount of money I got screwed out of earlier this week. Universe, thanks for having my back. Then I biked downtown to pick up a check for some work I'd done this summer. On the way I passed Occupy Madison, gave them a solidarity fist on my way by, and received a wave of cheers and revolutionary energy in return for my small gesture. I felt fortified in a way I hadn't in a long time.

The nearer I got to the capitol, the more cars I heard honking to the rhythm of this is what democracy looks like, and my smile got even broader. By noon there were already about 30,000 people gathered around the square, singing freedom songs and labor songs. This warms my heart every time, and reminds me of the importance of what I teach. These songs are POWERFUL. These songs invoke the power of the first anti-slavery efforts, of the entire Civil Rights Era, of the Free Speech Movement, of every antiwar movement...they are raw revolutionary energy. These songs are the force of wronged people throughout our history. These songs are the voices of everyone who has participated and believed in all of these movements raised together. Joyfully! I did not feel anger in the crowd--I felt hope, and camaraderie, and wonder and joy at the idea that so many of us could come together so strongly.

I rode this energy all the way home, to get ready for Thanksgiving #1. When I got there, I was thrilled to find myself surrounded by intellectuals and liberals and teachers and public workers and queers and every combination thereof, all of whom welcomed me with open arms, as though we'd known each other for years. I was home, in an instant. We laughed and ate and drank and talked about our lives without dwelling on the things that keep us down.

Here comes aforementioned sappy part.

Halfway through the meal, I was informed that this is one of those Thanksgiving parties where everybody goes around and says what they are thankful for. When this happens at my family Thanksgiving, my mother locks herself in the bathroom because it inevitably becomes so awkward. But last night was not like that. These people were not dutifully listing the things we're supposed to be thankful for--health, family, friends, etc.--they were giving thanks. And the message that came up again and again was that yes, this year has been exceptionally challenging. But somehow, especially during this holiday season, the challenges make the blessings stand in sharper relief. My heart began to swell as I understood that this was true for me as well. When it was my turn, this is what I said:

I just moved back to Wisconsin after eight years away, and every single day, something happens that makes me so excited to be back here - whether it's the seasons, a local brew I've missed, casserole, or people letting me change lanes without being dicks about it.

Today especially, I am incredibly grateful for the amazing displays of democracy and free speech right here in our state, and in our country, and in the world. It gives me so much hope, and keeps things in perspective for me.

I am thankful, too, for wonderful friends who push through their struggles and still somehow find the energy and compassion to fight for their values.

And having said that, everything in my world got a little bit shinier.