Family, friends, and food
Claire Doll
MSMU
Class of 2024
(11/2022) At Thanksgiving dinners, I was the slightly annoying (but mostly cute) child who made everyone say what they were thankful for. The adults around the table—my aunts, uncles, grandparents, and even parents—would say the same boring, generic answers: family, friends, and food. As a mere eight-year-old, I would think, Aren’t we all thankful for those things? Can’t you be a little more creative?
I was hoping on more unique-to-the-person answers. Back then, in the third grade, I was thankful for my silky terrier Toby, for my American Girl Dolls, and for extended recess. Now, as a junior in college, I’m grateful for slow mornings spent with my roommate, Friday nights spent baking with my friend Lexi, and Facetime calls with my sister. The little things in life. The simple things, if you will. The things that are specific to me, the things that make me smile, if even for a moment.
As I come closer and closer to approaching real adulthood and the real world, I am now realizing that those clear-cut answers—family, God, and food—were blanket statements, rather than real reflections.
Of course we all appreciate those things. So why don’t we talk about them more?
I think it’s funny how one of the unspoken rules of Thanksgiving is to not talk about politics or religion. Given the state of our world, and the political atmosphere of November, this makes sense. Why would we want to interrupt our dinner of roasted turkey and mashed potatoes to debate gun control? Or the dissonance of our religious beliefs?
Humans have grown so used to not talking about these things. We have settled in a world of polarization, of frustrated debate and stubborn rebuttals. We believe that there are only two sides to one argument, and if we disagree, then it’s over. No more roasted turkey, no more mashed potatoes.
I’m arguing, however, that this doesn’t always have to be the case. What can we, as humans, agree on? What is one thing that we can talk about without yelling or screaming or flashing looks of ignorance?
I can think of three: The thankfulness for family, friends, and food.
But I don’t mean in the cliché, "I’m thankful for these things" kind-of-way. This Thanksgiving, I’m challenging you to really reflect on these three aspects of our lives. The aspects that shape our day-to-day experiences. They may be the big things in life, yes, but in the span of twenty-four hours, they become the little things. The moments that belong solely to us, that we appreciate with our entire hearts, even for just a bit.
For example, I mentioned my friend Lexi. Pretty much every Friday night this semester, we’ve opted to stay in, turn on a fall-themed movie, and bake. We’ve made chocolate chip butterscotch cookies, banana bread, and pumpkin muffins. Not only that, but we will literally walk around campus on a crisp September night and give these baked goods to our friends (and sometimes strangers). Because of this, we’ve spent countless hours talking to people we’ve never even met, or never even thought to meet. We’ve learned about different students, and we’ve shared plenty of laughter while talking with these people.
I’m thankful for that.
And basically, it covers the three: family (Lexi’s considered family, for sure), friends (meeting new people), and food (delicious cookies and treats). It’s really not that hard to dive deeper into the "family, friends, and food" blanket statement that everyone gives at Thanksgiving.
I feel that as humans, we relate particularly to the little moments in life. We say that it’s the big things that really shape our existence, but what about the conversations with friends on the way to class/work? The perfect iced latte on a rather terrible day? The random text message from your mom, saying "I love you"? We cling to the fun, repetitive, magical things that life often gives us on a whim. We love little gifts like this, because at the end of the day, the happiness endures.
It always endures, doesn’t it?
Even through the politics, even through the polarization. Beyond our political discourse, our argumentative debates, happiness endures, because humans inevitably relate on our abilities to feel and express joy.
So, at the Thanksgiving table when we say that we’re thankful for "family, friends, and food," we’re not wrong. All we really need to do is explain ourselves. Why are we thankful for family? What has your friend done that has made me smile? What is your most favorite and delicious food?
Maybe when we slow down and reflect on these little things in life, we’ll also slow down and recognize that politics and religion and everything we deem as "taboo" aren’t really that bad. In fact, to avoid this polarization and just talk about these deep and unsettling issues, we need to relate on a more human basis. What makes us human, and what do we do from there?
That’s one of the things we focus on at the Mount: what does it mean to be human? While I won’t dive into that question (I’ll answer that at a different column), I’ll leave you all with this. We are human because we love to reason, because we get passionate and argumentative when talking about politics and elections and laws. But we are also human because of our natural will towards others, because of our ability to love unconditionally and express utter happiness. We recognize what we are thankful for, but we must act upon this. When we reflect on the minor, small, tiny-but-so-important things, we inevitably reflect on the larger image of our lives.
This Thanksgiving, you may be thankful for the three F’s. You may also be afraid to talk about subjects beyond surface level discussion. But if you really want to connect with the members at your dinner table—and enjoy some delicious turkey and potatoes—I challenge you to look at just one day in your life and think of every little thing you’re thankful for. Then, talk about it. You’ll be surprised at how much others will relate, and where you’ll go from there.
Read other articles by Claire Doll