I’ve been told that Thanksgiving Day is the day the pilgrims and the Native Americans broke bread in New England, and I’ve often wondered what was really on the mind of the pilgrim who asked the Native American sitting next to him to pass the corn. What those Native Americans were unaware of was that they were receiving the turkey treatment. In other words, they were being fattened up for the kill because this dinner set in motion how their land would one day become the pilgrims’ land. After all, the people who were happy living in England stayed there and the unhappy people, like the thieves, crooks and scoundrels left for a new home and victims. Therefore, what happened to the Native Americans wasn’t something that just happened, it was planned.
History books have taught me that pilgrims came to the new land seeking a new life. However, it’s unfortunate that I only have an account of what happened from the side of the Europeans. That’s like getting all your information about slavery from the slave owners. It appears to me that any account of anything that doesn’t include both sides also doesn’t include the whole truth. I would not be surprised to find out that India, South Africa, The Caribbean Islands, Canada, Asia, and Australia all had their version of a Thanksgiving.
For some reason the pilgrims had the idea that they could show the Native Americans a better way of life; but were the Natives complaining? Did they send for the pilgrims? Were they dissatisfied with their way of life? It seems to me, the only ones not satisfied with the way they were living was the pilgrims, that’s why they left England. Somehow the pilgrims took the position that these poor, primitive, and uncivilized people needed them. The Natives used tools like bows and arrows, spears, sticks, rocks, etc. I’ve heard people say the reason the natives didn’t have guns was that they lacked the technological way of thinking to make guns. However, there is another way to look at that position when you realize what guns are made for. Guns are made for killing. The Natives didn’t need guns because they didn’t need to build a war machine. They also didn’t need ships to take them to places where they weren’t wanted; so it’s fair to say, they were happy being who they were, where they were.
The Pilgrims were guests who came to dinner but had no intention of ever leaving. They planned to make the native’s home their home, and they were prepared to accomplish this by any means necessary. Every time one of those big ships sailed away, it left people here. I can only wonder what went through the minds of the Natives when each time they went to visit the pilgrims, there were more of them. What America should be thankful for is that the Native Americans didn’t have their war machine, because if they had, some things in American history may have happened differently. For instance, the wars that America fought may not have happened, the slaves that Americans bought could have stayed in Africa and the bomb that was dropped on Japan may not have been made.
Black people seem to look forward to Thanksgiving Day as one of the days when black women perform magic with an oven. I have often wondered why my people insist on celebrating the day that marks the beginning of the Holocaust of the Native Americans. How would black people feel if the Native Americans celebrated the beginning of slavery? Maybe black people should spend a little more time examining the possibility that we had more in common with Native Americans, by accident, than we had with the pilgrims, on purpose. Something inside me suggests the first Thanksgiving did not happen the way it was taught. The same ploy was probably used in South Africa and Australia; which was to be nice until they had enough people and weapons to take over.
Plymouth Rock became a fort, the fort became a colony, the colony became thirteen (13) colonies, the thirteen (13) colonies became forty-eight (48) states and the forty-eight (48) states became fifty (50) states, and it all started with a meal.
One thing is for sure, the birth of America was a C-section…
Christmas