Thanksgiving is this week and I am so excited. I can’t wait for the turkey, the mashed potatoes, the vegetables, the desserts. It’s the one time of the year my mom will willingly get into the kitchen to cook up a feast. Not that she has to, but it’s not very often our family eats a home cooked meal. We don’t have any special plans. Years ago, we would go to one of my aunt’s houses, pack at least 40-50 Irish people into a small space and wait in line for a scoop or slice of anything. It’s not like that anymore. No one has the energy to host the dinner due to the large amount of work it takes. I love my family, but this change works for me; I was never a fan of the small talk and dating interrogations anyway. The past few years it’s just been my mom, my dad, my sister, her husband, and their daughter. Of course, my sister and her family are going out of town for Thanksgiving this year to spend it with her husband’s family. So now it’s just my parents and I. There’s only one word to describe it: awkward.

Thanksgiving used to be exciting and special. I guess the last time it felt that way was when I was a child in elementary school. Every holiday seemed to be a big production back then. Classrooms decorated with construction paper turkeys made from traced hands, teachers donning the little white pilgrim caps, going around the room and saying what you’re thankful for. And you can’t forget sitting down to hear the Thanksgiving story. Back then, it went a little something like this:

Long ago, in the early 1600s, a group of people in England wanted to pray and worship God in their own way. The King controlled the Church of England, and everyone was ordered to go to the same type of church. Anyone who dared to disobey would be sent to jail. This group of people did not want to follow the King’s rules. To escape the King, around 100 men, women and children left their homeland. They sailed on a ship called the Mayflower to go to the New World. These travelers were called the Pilgrims. After six weeks on the boat, they finally landed on Plymouth Rock. It was December 11, 1620 so winter had already begun there. The land was very strange and unfamiliar to them. The winter was long, cold, and very hard for the Pilgrims. Luckily, the Native Americans, who lived there too, helped by giving them seeds and food, teaching them about their new home, and giving them the skills needed to survive there. The first year was hard for the Pilgrims. Many of them died. Using the seeds and plants given to them by the Native Americans, the Pilgrims decided to plant crops. The fall harvest was a good one. To celebrate their luck, the Pilgrims had a feast of thanksgiving. There was tons of food - wild turkey, duck, and venison were probably served, along with fish, pumpkins, squash, corn, sweet potatoes, and cranberries. The leader of the Pilgrims invited all of the Native Americans who had helped them so much during their first year to join the celebration. The feast lasted for three days! This harvest feast in 1621 is now called the "First Thanksgiving." Over the years, Thanksgiving has become an important tradition in the United States. (based on today.com’s Thanksgiving story for children)

Pretty sweet, huh? Looking at this story now, it’s actually the most American thing I’ve ever read. We’re a country that prides ourselves on unity and accepting others even if they’re different from us. Of course we welcomed the Native Americans with open arms! They gave us so much. They shared their land, their food, and their knowledge. They deserved to join the celebration as much as anyone else… only that’s not what happened.

The Thanksgiving story is a lot like Santa Claus, I’ve noticed. As a child, you’re told this happy, magical story that gives you something to look forward to each year, but as the years go on and you grow up, you slowly begin to realize it’s not all it’s cracked up to be. Santa Claus isn’t real and neither is that innocent Thanksgiving story. Here’s how it really happened: The first Thanksgiving occurred in 1637. The day was declared by the Massachusetts Colony Governor to celebrate the safe return of the armed hunters (volunteers from the colony). They had just returned from a journey from what is now Connecticut where they had murdered 700 Pequot Indians, men, women and children.

This bloody event was nothing new, unfortunately, for our American history. You may remember the little tune we all used to sing in order to remember the founding of America: “In fourteen hundred ninety-two, Columbus sailed the ocean blue”. It was true. In 1492, Christopher Columbus sent three ships, the Nina, the Pinta, the Santa Maria, out to sea, hoping to sail West until he hit Asia, where there was supposed to be gold, pearls, and spices. By accident, he landed upon what is now America. Everything you’ve heard is true. But the truth of it all is not the question. The question is, “What did they leave out?”. Well, what your teachers didn’t tell you was that when Christopher Columbus landed on America, there was already people there, the Native Americans. How was he supposed to colonize a land for the Europeans if a whole group of people already inhabited it? The answer it seemed to him was the use of violence, slavery, and rape. He forced Christianity onto them, and even passed on horrible diseases that would ultimately have awful long term effects on the people.

So what’s the point of me talking about all of this? Nobody reading this signed up for a textbook. Well, this all has a point. A common thread. Throughout your whole life, you’ve taken class after class learning about your home country. You’ve been tested on it. You’ve celebrated Thanksgiving and Columbus Day. But you grew up only to find you were either lied to or things were hidden from you. The country you grew up in that is often called the best country in the world is far from being the best. Your history books did not tell the full story and that’s why I’m writing this.

About two weeks ago, on November 8th, 2016, Donald Trump was elected President of the United States. Donald Trump, who proposed we build a wall to stop illegal immigrants from Mexico from coming into our country. Donald Trump, who proposed we ban all Muslims from entering our country due to ISIS and start keeping a registry of those who are already here. Donald Trump, who proposed there be some criminal punishment for women who get abortions, who wants to stop funding Planned Parenthood. Donald Trump, who has been accused of sexual assault and rape by many women. Donald Trump, who denies the horrible allegations, but got caught on tape laughing about his attempted sexual assault. Donal Trump, who made fun of a disabled reporter on stage and kicked a child with cerebral palsy out of one of his rallies.

When this awful millionaire reality TV show star got elected, the first thing I thought of was my children. This might not make sense considering by the time I have children, Trump will most likely not be president anymore. But I thought of them because when they learn the history of our country, they will learn about Trump. They will come home and ask me about it. Ask me what it was like to be alive for one of the most controversial elections and presidents our country has ever had. What will I say? When our children read about this election in their history textbooks, what will be written? Will Trump be Christopher Columbus? The “hero” who changed the people and their country for the better? Will he be Hitler? The dictator who conducted a mass genocide of Jews throughout Europe? Will he be somewhere in between? I don’t know. And that scares me. It’s my responsibility as a writer and an artist and the responsibility of others to not skirt around the truth. Write. Draw. Take pictures. Document everything that’s happening right now like the world is going to end. We will need proof. If Trump is to be painted a brighter color someday, we will need the evidence to darken his character. We may not want to, for the pure fact that we are ashamed of how we let this all happen. But we must. We are the ones who will write the history for future generations to come. What will the page say?