Imperfect Gatherings
Creating New Traditions:
In my late 20s, I decided to start hosting Thanksgiving in my NYC apartment. At first, it was an experiment, hosting a few close friends in my limited space, gathering around tables that seemed much too small, often perched on mismatched chairs. But over time, this get-together transformed from a casual gathering to a valued tradition. Each year, friends would bring other friends, and we would fill up my loft apartment in Bushwick (back when lofts in Bushwick were affordable but lacked certificates of occupancies), laughing, sharing stories, and making toasts. There was something about these gatherings that felt important, especially to those of us who shouldn’t or couldn’t be with our families of origin for any number of reasons.
Of course, these dinners were far from perfect. There was always a bit of chaos, a burnt turkey (or maybe a few, I’m a vegetarian, not my strong suit); my cat knocking over a pumpkin pie and eating it (he was fine), and so many dishes. These mishaps turned into the memories we’d recount every year including the new people in on the jokes.
Thanksgiving 2010? An old door as a table extender.
No matter the size of the group, we’d go around and share something we were thankful for. Even when the guestlist reached upwards of 20, we would carefully go to each person and listen while we watched our food get cold. These moments, while not exactly original, were heartfelt and sincere. Somehow, that gratitude almost always boiled down to being part of something, feeling included, and simply having a place to be. I survived. I am here right now. We are together.
Thanksgiving became less about the idealized vision and more about what we created together. Our gatherings allowed us to reimagine what a holiday could mean, filling it with pieces of our own values, our cultures, and our personalities. They allowed me to discover what mattered to me about gathering, tradition, community, and family. My guests also were able to share parts of themselves and their culture as we wove together a new ritual. Looking back I can see all of the little repairs, and lasting connections that brought comfort at a time when we are often inundated with images of “ideal families”. It became clear that traditions don't have to be inherited; they can be created, from scratch, around an old farm table in Bushwick.
Axle holding down the fort before guests arrive in 2018.
There is no "right" way to celebrate. Maybe you'll gather with family or spend it solo at a meditation retreat, taking a break from the everyday stresses. You could consider volunteering, which I did many times before I began hosting myself. There are countless organizations across the city that welcome help on Thanksgiving, offering a meaningful way to spend the day. Or, maybe you'll take part in a Turkey Trot for some light-hearted exercise or even try your hand at hosting.
However you celebrate—whether with family, friends, or solo—may you find gratitude in the present moment, surrounded by those who choose to share it with you.