Rambling: Thankful

Alright, well I wasn't going to write anything for thanksgiving. At first there was just too much to choose from and I couldn't pick just one or two things for, say, a facebook post.  Besides, it sounds less meaningful and cliche today since everyone else is saying the same things - family, friends, food, health, etc. And plus I feel like it's obvious what I'm thankful for, so what's the point of writing it out (side note - I've actually been doing this thing for a few months where before I eat when I have food in front of me I take a deep breath and mentally list 3 things I'm grateful for - it's calming and reflective and stops me from just scarfing down my food without tasting it - woo!). But as I'm heading to bed, I'm still thinking about what I am thankful for, so here goes:

First as always, I'm thankful for my parents. I'm more and more thankful for them as I get older, as I realize all the sacrifices they made when I was younger, all the things they taught me and ways to think about the world and nonacademic skills that just seemed like a "given" but aren't, and how not everyone has parents that would literally support them, smiling and beaming, no matter what decisions they ever choose in their life. I feel like I'll never be able to repay them, but I know they aren't expecting it since they model selfless, unconditional love.

Secondly, the rest of the family. I really can't say enough here, so I won't, but you know that feeling when you're with your whole family (say, maybe on thanksgiving), and everything is going just as it always does, and everyone is so content? The same compliments and small talk are being passed around, the same cousins are making the same inside jokes, and the same funny stories are resurfacing? I love that. I've been given two sets of grandparents that have spent their lives giving to others, a whole slew of relatives eager to welcome any of us to Chile, and 4 best friends since the days we were born. I'm thankful for all of you, family.

Thirdly, everyone else who has shaped me. Friends, boyfriend, mentors, students, people I've known or worked with in the past but don't keep in touch with anymore, people I've never met who have served as role models, acquaintances who have dolled out advice or inspiration at  the exact crucial moment (knowingly or not), my 5th grade teacher, the boy on the train who un-robbed me, a million authors,  the random teacher that had coffee with me, the list goes on and on. Probably you if you're reading this. We really are products of the ideas and perspectives that are exposed to us by the people we come in contact with, as long as we're open to receiving them, and I've been fortunate to have some pretty cool people come my way. Andy Rooney says, "the easiest way for me to grow as a person is to surround myself with people smarter than I am." I agree with the idea, but I'd add people humbler than I am, people more determined that I am, people braver than I am, people more satisfied than I am, people more patient than I am, people who have overcome more than I have, really anyone that's different from me. So that's everyone.

And lastly, I am thankful for the opportunity to expand my humanness.  I know that sounds strange, but I'm reading Pedagogy of the Oppressed by Paulo Freire and he discusses how the "historical vocation" of all of us throughout lifeis to become more fully human. However, this is often impeded by limits placed on us by other people or our situation. It reminds me of Maslow's hierarchy (below) - when your basic needs aren't met, like survival, you aren't able to attend to other matters, like self-actualization.


I am thankful that I haven't yet had to occupy myself with thoughts like will my government allow me to choose who I marry, how can I feed myself tonight, is my house built strong enough to uphold this natural disaster, will I be able to afford tuition, when will they release me from detainment, will I be able to roll my wheelchair through this restaurant, which metro stop will be the most fruitful tonight, will I make it home from school safely, how will my neighbors react to my religion, where can I apply for work that I haven't yet, will this sickness ever leave me in peace, how can I escape this person or situation, do I live far enough from the bombs, or where is my loved one. I know that this is because I have been privileged, not because these things are inherently bestowed to everyone. It's one thing to simply know the fact that others are not as privileged, but it's another to actually contemplate what that means in their lives, to know and care for people who, by chance, have more suffering. I am deeply thankful for my situation, my freedoms, and my opportunities. I'm grateful that I have the ability to spend my time working in a career I enjoy, traveling, watching netflix, reading, eating ice cream, shopping, dreaming on pinterest, painting, visiting friends, and generally laughing.

Today I happened to go to an exhibit at the Reina Sofia Art Museum called Losing the human form. A seismic image of the 1980s in Latin America. It featured mostly photos and media prints from Chile, Argentia, Peru, and Brazil in the 1980s, while suffering under their respective dictators. Obviously I've known about the oppressive past, but seeing these photos and stories close up was a different experience. They showed mostly women, rallying together in protests and artistic demonstrations, demanding that the government end the torture and disappearance of their husbands, brothers, and sons. Many of these women were well-dressed and looked "well-to-do." You could almost picture them hosting a dinner party or playing cards, except for the sadness in their eyes and the anger coursing through their bodies. I can't imagine that growing up they ever imagined themselves one day in a population of victims, political activists by necessity, spraying graffiti messages and posting up advertisements for lost people.

Posters for missing people. Pinochet, who the US helped bring to power, "disappeared" (aka murdered) over 3,000 people in Chile.

A woman writing "no mas," for no more violence, no more fear, no more dictator, etc.

Silhouettes of missing pregnant women.

Rain or shine.

My mother could have easily been in the crowds, demanding a fair government that doesn't kill people, if her family hadn't moved to the United States when she was a teenager. We never know when we won't have what we have, or what life is like for those who only dream of what we have. Even today, just an hour ago I found out that our wonderful housekeeper was roofied and robbed last night (not raped, thank goodness). We really do only have the present, so it's up to us to make the most of it, to treasure the love we have, and to give love abundantly. I'm glad on thanksgiving we are reminded to be reflective like this, and leave you with this: