This season asks us to hold two truths at once: the warmth of gathering together, and the reminder that Thanksgiving lives inside a complicated history. Here in the Dawnland, this land holds stories far older than the holiday itself. The Abenaki have cared for this place since before the glaciers receded, and the foods we enjoy today carry the traditions of Indigenous peoples across the Americas. Corn, squash, beans, cranberries, potatoes, and even the turkey itself exist because Indigenous farmers and seedkeepers bred, tended, and protected them over thousands of years. (Full Land Acknowledgement here.)
Today, I am also thinking of the Latino immigrant farmers I have worked alongside, many of whom come from indigenous communities whose ancestors shaped the agricultural biodiversity we celebrate this week. Their knowledge, endurance, and kindness have fed me on long days, pushed me to work harder, and reminded me that the line from those ancient foods to today’s harvest runs straight through their hands. America would not be America without them, and I hope as we all sit down to enjoy our meals today, we can take some time remember that.
And so today, a small grace:
May we give thanks for every hand that touched our food,
for the land that nourished it,
and for the Indigenous people who have stewarded both the food and the land.
