November Holds More Than One Story

November is Native American Heritage Month, a time set aside to honor the history, strength, and survival of the First Peoples of this land. The irony is that it is also the month many celebrate Thanksgiving.

As a woman whose lineage spans African American, Indian, and European ancestry, and as a wife to a Mexican man, this topic carries layers that are not simple to explain and even heavier to teach my children. My ancestors were enslaved. My ancestors ran from their homelands. And my ancestors also ran others from theirs. I carry all of it.

I do cook a family meal. I do use the opportunity to gather the people I love. But I do not celebrate the overtaking of Indigenous homelands. I cannot ignore the truth or smooth out the harsher parts of history to make anyone more comfortable.

Another painful irony is happening today. We are watching Mexican families be removed from the United States when they are Indigenous to the Americas. I understand the need for laws and safety. What I cannot understand is separating families who fought tooth and nail to give their children a chance at a better life. Watching Indigenous people once again be displaced on the very soil of their ancestors is a reality we should not overlook.

I recently watched the documentary The Men Who Built America: Frontiersmen, which features historians and university professors from across the nation. I was relieved to hear the story told in a more accurate light than what I witnessed my niece being taught in middle school. She was taught that enslaved people were referred to as helpers instead of slaves. Hearing the truth presented with historical integrity reminded me of how critical it is that our children learn what actually happened, not a softened version created to ease discomfort.

I am all about legacy. And this month encompasses so much of my family’s legacy, history, and identity. Every part of who we are sits at the intersection of resilience, displacement, survival, rebuilding, and hope. Honoring that truth matters to me. Teaching it to my children matters even more.

This month, I choose awareness.

 I choose truth.

 I choose compassion.

 I choose to honor every part of my lineage and every community connected to it.

However you recognize November, I hope you make room for the full story, the true story, and the stories many of us carry in our bloodline.