Karl and Angela Rees

Have you ever noticed how, perhaps moreso than any other holiday, Americans obsess over making sure people have "a place to go" for Thanksgiving?  This thought occurred to me in my interactions with co-workers last week?  As with most holiday work-weeks, conversations inevitably turned to what we were doing for the holiday--but, more often than not, the discourse revolved around the question of "do you have a place to go for Thanksgiving" as opposed to "are you doing anything special for Thanksgiving."  The assumption, of course, appeared to be that NOT having a place to go on Thanksgiving was some sort of tragedy.  In fact, this assumption was so great as to promote concern for others--for example, one of my co-workers confided in me that she was concerned that another one of my co-workers didn't have a place ago.

My interactions with family on Wednesday night only reinforced this idea--my in-laws had invited my aunt (whom they hardly knew prior to Angela's baby shower) to dinner, who had in turn invited my youngest brother (whom my in-laws hardly knew at all).  My other brother and his wife, as well as my sister and her husband, were both doing dinner with friends.  And we--well, we were going with Angela's grandparents to Angela's uncle's brother-in-law's house, where we would eat dinner with not only extended family, but a once-neighbor of Angela's uncle, several of the host's co-workers, and two distant relatives of the host who recently moved from Arizona to San Jose for school.  And nobody appeared to think of this as being at all odd.

This got me thinking to past Thanksgivings I've had, and I realize that I share this assumption that Thanksgiving is a day to spend with others.  I've been invited to, for example, my brother's wife's family even though my brother and his wife wouldn't be in attendance.  I've had dinner several times with my aunt Sharla, sometimes to eat with relatives I didn't even know I had (e.g., the year I found out, during Thanksgiving dinner, that a girl I knew at BYU was in fact a second cousin--good thing I hadn't asked her out).  I've cooked Thanksgiving dinner with a roommate and his sister.  I've driven 24 hours to Texas for Grandma's turkey with 2 siblings, only to turn around and drive back the next day.  Last year I ate dinner in the company of, among others, my cousin's now probably ex-girlfriend and a gay guy friend of my sisters' from Iowa.

Somehow, Thanksgiving has become a holiday that we spend with others.  Perhaps I'm drawing from too small a sample, but we don't seem to attach as much importance to making sure people have a place to go for other holidays.  I know plenty of people who've spent, say, Christmas or New Years alone.  And on a somewhat related note, I've noticed that many stores and restaurants that say they'll be open for Christmas, are closed on Thanksgiving. 

I've got several theories for this phenomenon.  First--Thanksgiving is America's universal religious holiday.  Thanksgiving is not a specifically religious holiday; everybody can celebrate it without feeling like they may be offending others.  But, at some level, it is still religious--everybody has something they can at least theoretically be "thankful" for.  Since we all have this in common, we can therefore "share" Thanksgiving with others.  And because we can share Thanksgiving with anybody and everybody, we do.

By contrast, Christmas and Easter are deeply religious experiences.  Meanwhile, holidays like New Years can be deeply personal experiences (after the partying is done).  These are events that share only with those who are closest to us; who perceive the experience in the same way.  But we are much more comfortable with making our personal Thanksgiving experiences accessible to others, because Thanksgiving is not so personal or religious.  

Second, as opposed to Fourth of July or New Years, we don't have publicly-sanctioned outlets for celebration of Thanksgiving.  In other words, you can't go to a fireworks show or a club to celebrate Thanksgiving.  You have to have "a place to go."

Third, Thanksgiving inherently involves others--after all, there is not much that we can be thankful for that doesn't involve other people.  To not have others with whom to spend Thanksgiving, then, suggests that life has been much harder on you than it should be.  People feel guilty or charitable when they perceive this to be the case for someone, and, because Thanksgiving is so easy to share, invite those without a place to go into their own celebrations.

Fourth--and actually this I have Angela to thank for this idea--somebody needs to eat all that food!