Republish this content

<h1>Healing From Colonization on Thanksgiving and Beyond</h1>

<p>Edgar Villanueva and Hilary Giovale
share an ancestral bond that is far from unique, but one that is rarely acknowledged.
Edgar is a member of the Lumbee Tribe of North Carolina. For generations, his
family has lived in the same region where Hilary’s ancestor received a land
grant after his family migrated from Scotland in 1739. Now 280 years later,
Edgar and Hilary reach across the Thanksgiving table to bridge the painful
colonial gap.</p>



<h2><strong>Edgar</strong></h2>



<p>As a Native American, I’m often
troubled by the way that Americans approach Thanksgiving. By holding onto an
idealized image of a harmonious feast between the Pilgrims and Wampanoag, we’ve
overlooked the brutality that Native people have faced since the arrival of
Europeans. For many Native Americans, Thanksgiving is a day of mourning and
remembrance—a reminder of the genocide of our people, the loss of our way of
life, and the theft of our ancestral lands.&nbsp;</p>



<p>We cannot change the past––but by
changing how we tell the story of the past, we can avoid repeating a history
that erases the trauma Indigenous peoples have experienced. While traditional
decolonization hinges on returning stolen land and autonomy to Indigenous
peoples, today our lives as Indigenous peoples and settlers are so intertwined
that decolonization is more complex. </p>



<p>I propose seven steps to healing:
grieve, apologize, listen, relate, represent, invest, and repair. I initially
developed these steps in relation to my professional field of philanthropy, but
they are also applicable to a personal process of decolonization.</p>



<figure><blockquote><p>By opening up dialogue and rejecting colonial divides, we create genuine mutual understanding.</p></blockquote></figure>



<p>The first step to healing is
acknowledging our nation’s violent history and taking time to grieve what
happened. Without grieving, we simply cannot move forward. Then, we must
apologize. This means a genuine acknowledgement of past wrongs, with an outward
focus on the impact these actions had on others. This step of healing helps to
build the foundation for reconciliation.</p>



<p>Once we have grieved and apologized,
it is time to listen. Listening means being open, empathetic, attentive, and
considerate. One simple way to listen is to follow Indigenous accounts on
social media. Some of my favorite Indigenous-run Instagram accounts are
@indigenousgoddessgang, @lilnativeboy, @seedingsovereignty, @indigenousrising,
@repdebhaaland, @_illuminatives, @ndncollective, and @project_562. Listening is
a way to learn more about the issues affecting our community—most of which,
like lack of economic opportunity and poor mental health, are a direct result
of colonization.&nbsp;</p>



<p>If we listen openly and
empathetically, it naturally leads to the next step of healing: relating. By
opening up dialogue and rejecting colonial divides, we create genuine mutual
understanding. The Native principle <em>mitakuye oyasin</em> (all my relations)
is the idea that our interdependence as human beings is inescapable. When we
understand this, we can truly heal together.&nbsp;</p>



<figure><blockquote><p>The final step of this healing process is to repair. Reparations are the ultimate way to build power in exploited communities.</p></blockquote></figure>



<p>Once we relate, we must represent.
That means restoring power to Native Americans in the decisions that affect our
communities. It’s a difficult change to make, particularly for those who stand
to lose power. But that discomfort is part of the healing. Representing means
voting for Indigenous leaders, holding the government accountable for their
broken treaties, and supporting movements that
fight against <a href="https://twitter.com/NotYourMascot?ref_src=twsrc%5Egoogle%7Ctwcamp%5Eserp%7Ctwgr%5Eauthor">racist and
demeaning depictions of Native Americans</a>.</p>



<p>The next step of healing is
investing. For some, that means donating to Native organizations. This year I
started the <a href="https://www.decolonizingwealth.com/liberated-capital">Liberated
Capital </a>fund, a giving circle that supports Indigenous and other
people-of-color-led initiatives working for transformative social change. But
for others, it could be as simple as supporting Native-owned businesses such as
<a href="https://www.gq.com/story/ginew-designer-profile">Ginew</a>, <a href="https://trickstercompany.com/">Trickster</a>, and <a href="https://bedrechocolates.com/our-story/">Bedré</a>. It
also means <a href="https://www.yesmagazine.org/planet/why-more-cities-are-divesting-from-big-oil-its-moral-and-practical-20180215">divesting from
organizations and companies that hurt Native communities</a>, like
the <a href="https://www.banktrack.org/project/keystone_xl_pipeline#about">Keystone
XL Pipeline</a>.&nbsp;</p>



<p>The final step of this healing process
is to repair. Reparations are the ultimate way to build power in exploited
communities. For Native Americans, that means ensuring land and water rights,
returning sacred ancestral lands, and providing adequate resources to our
communities. This includes giving Indigenous communities full property rights
on our reservations, rather than letting the government hold them “in trust,”
preventing us from putting the land to use by selling it, buying more, or
borrowing against it.</p>



<p>When we all take these steps to heal,
we can both address the harms of the past, and stop the cycle of harm that
continues because of the lasting legacy of colonization. It’s a process that
requires the collective involvement of our country as a whole. This
Thanksgiving, I encourage everyone to take time and begin this process of
healing—recognize the hurt that was caused by colonization in order to bridge
colonial divides and look forward to a new and more equitable future.&nbsp;</p>



<h2><strong>Hilary</strong></h2>



<p>European-descended settlers have
unique opportunities to bridge the colonial gap. It can begin by simply
changing how we introduce ourselves. The first time I said out loud, “I am a
ninth-generation American settler. All my life, and ever since 1739, our family
has been living on <a href="http://usg.maps.arcgis.com/apps/webappviewer/index.html?id=eb6ca76e008543a89349ff2517db47e6">stolen
Indigenous land</a>,” my worldview started changing
dramatically.</p>



<p>Within White settler culture, our
identities as settlers tend to be invisible to ourselves. We are entangled with
systemic White supremacy and national mythologies designed to keep us
comfortable and complicit. Many of us have developed multi-generational bubbles
of denial and amnesia about the genocide, broken treaties, and stolen land that
enabled us to stay. Our opportunity is to willingly pop those bubbles so we can
collectively decolonize and make repairs.</p>



<p>European-descended settler families
and communities need to begin our own healing work, together. Our social
conditioning makes it tempting to rush into “doing something” right away, but
our first step in bridging the colonial divide can simply be <em>feeling </em>the
discomfort of the true history, and being open to learning: how has this
history benefitted us while inflicting unbearable trauma upon Indigenous
peoples?</p>



<p>Facing history and being willing to
grieve helps settlers develop the capacity to apologize. <a href="https://www.reuters.com/article/us-usa-apology-nativeamericans/great-great-grandson-of-wounded-knee-commander-asks-for-forgiveness-idUSKBN1XI05I?fbclid=IwAR3VpkA_eCEWElR6bYLA7FquVz7hP75M7R2ZgLJ2VAZ-BGUiXBGM92s4dK4">Apologies
for historic harm</a> are quietly taking place throughout
the United States. My grieving process included writing an ancestral apology
letter to Edgar, which opened healing potential for us, our families, and our
extended networks.&nbsp;</p>



<figure><blockquote><p>When settlers commit to our own process of healing and decolonization, it becomes possible to build bridges toward Indigenous peoples and communities. </p></blockquote></figure>



<p>Though it seems counterintuitive,
embarking on our own healing process as settlers helps us bridge the colonial
gap. This Thanksgiving, I recommend groups of settler friends and families
acknowledge their settlerhood out loud to each other, followed by a prayer or a
moment of silence.</p>



<p>Around the Thanksgiving table, ask
questions. Where did your people come from, and why? What types of oppression
or poverty did your family face in the time before and during migration? Did
your ancestors choose to leave behind beloved lands, families, languages and
cultures, or were they forced? Prepare some of your ancestral foods for the
Thanksgiving feast. Honoring our settler ancestors can restore their humanity,
which in some cases was compromised through dehumanizing acts of colonization
and enslavement.</p>



<p>Beginning this Thanksgiving, and
continuing throughout the year, settlers can learn which First Nations
previously and currently inhabit the <a href="https://native-land.ca/">land</a> on
which they live and gather. Honor the Indigenous ancestors, as well as their
surviving descendants. Amongst family and friends, share Indigenous stories and
histories.&nbsp;</p>



<p>When settlers commit to our own
process of healing and decolonization, it becomes possible to build bridges
toward Indigenous peoples and communities. We can seek opportunities to visit
Indigenous-organized events and spaces, listening far more than we speak,
believing what we hear, and allowing ourselves to be quietly impacted by what
we observe.&nbsp;&nbsp;</p>



<p>It is not the task of European-descended
settlers to become white saviors and “fix” colonial damage within Indigenous
communities. But, we <em>can</em> learn to join in solidarity by supporting the
work already being envisioned and led within Indigenous communities. Follow
Diné speaker <a href="https://www.lylajunejohnston.com/">Lyla
June Johnston's</a> guiding question: “How (if at all)
can I help?” Listen and act accordingly.</p>



<p>Sharing food, handshakes, and
conversation creates the universal human glue of empathy and compassion.
Cultivating relationships across difference facilitates our ability to invest
resources, time, and energy in Indigenous communities, and generates the
collective will to make reparations.</p>



<p>When we build bridges from the ashes
of the colonial gap, the ensuing relationships are things for which we can <em>really</em>
be grateful at Thanksgiving and beyond.<br>
<br>
</p>

<p>This article originally appeared in <a href="https://www.yesmagazine.org">Yes! Magazine</a> at <a href="https://www.yesmagazine.org/opinion/2019/11/27/thanksgiving-colonial-gap-heal">https://www.yesmagazine.org/opinion/2019/11/27/thanksgiving-colonial-gap-heal</a>.</p><link href="https://www.yesmagazine.org/opinion/2019/11/27/thanksgiving-colonial-gap-heal" rel="canonical"/><p>Yes! Magazine is a nonprofit, independent media organization dedicated to telling stories of ... . Learn more at <a href="https://www.yesmagazine.org">Yes! Magazine</a></p><img id="republication-tracker-tool-source" src="https://www.yesmagazine.org/?republication-pixel=true&post=74670&ga4=G-74QJNNY44Z" style="width:1px;height:1px;">

Healing From Colonization on Thanksgiving and Beyond

Edgar Villanueva and Hilary Giovale
share an ancestral bond that is far from unique, but one that is rarely acknowledged.
Edgar is a member of the Lumbee Tribe of North Carolina. For generations, his
family has lived in the same region where Hilary’s ancestor received a land
grant after his family migrated from Scotland in 1739. Now 280 years later,
Edgar and Hilary reach across the Thanksgiving table to bridge the painful
colonial gap.

Edgar

As a Native American, I’m often
troubled by the way that Americans approach Thanksgiving. By holding onto an
idealized image of a harmonious feast between the Pilgrims and Wampanoag, we’ve
overlooked the brutality that Native people have faced since the arrival of
Europeans. For many Native Americans, Thanksgiving is a day of mourning and
remembrance—a reminder of the genocide of our people, the loss of our way of
life, and the theft of our ancestral lands.

We cannot change the past––but by
changing how we tell the story of the past, we can avoid repeating a history
that erases the trauma Indigenous peoples have experienced. While traditional
decolonization hinges on returning stolen land and autonomy to Indigenous
peoples, today our lives as Indigenous peoples and settlers are so intertwined
that decolonization is more complex.

I propose seven steps to healing:
grieve, apologize, listen, relate, represent, invest, and repair. I initially
developed these steps in relation to my professional field of philanthropy, but
they are also applicable to a personal process of decolonization.

By opening up dialogue and rejecting colonial divides, we create genuine mutual understanding.

The first step to healing is
acknowledging our nation’s violent history and taking time to grieve what
happened. Without grieving, we simply cannot move forward. Then, we must
apologize. This means a genuine acknowledgement of past wrongs, with an outward
focus on the impact these actions had on others. This step of healing helps to
build the foundation for reconciliation.

Once we have grieved and apologized,
it is time to listen. Listening means being open, empathetic, attentive, and
considerate. One simple way to listen is to follow Indigenous accounts on
social media. Some of my favorite Indigenous-run Instagram accounts are
@indigenousgoddessgang, @lilnativeboy, @seedingsovereignty, @indigenousrising,
@repdebhaaland, @_illuminatives, @ndncollective, and @project_562. Listening is
a way to learn more about the issues affecting our community—most of which,
like lack of economic opportunity and poor mental health, are a direct result
of colonization.

If we listen openly and
empathetically, it naturally leads to the next step of healing: relating. By
opening up dialogue and rejecting colonial divides, we create genuine mutual
understanding. The Native principle mitakuye oyasin (all my relations)
is the idea that our interdependence as human beings is inescapable. When we
understand this, we can truly heal together.

The final step of this healing process is to repair. Reparations are the ultimate way to build power in exploited communities.

Once we relate, we must represent.
That means restoring power to Native Americans in the decisions that affect our
communities. It’s a difficult change to make, particularly for those who stand
to lose power. But that discomfort is part of the healing. Representing means
voting for Indigenous leaders, holding the government accountable for their
broken treaties, and supporting movements that
fight against racist and
demeaning depictions of Native Americans.

The next step of healing is
investing. For some, that means donating to Native organizations. This year I
started the Liberated
Capital fund, a giving circle that supports Indigenous and other
people-of-color-led initiatives working for transformative social change. But
for others, it could be as simple as supporting Native-owned businesses such as
Ginew, Trickster, and Bedré. It
also means divesting from
organizations and companies that hurt Native communities, like
the Keystone
XL Pipeline.

The final step of this healing process
is to repair. Reparations are the ultimate way to build power in exploited
communities. For Native Americans, that means ensuring land and water rights,
returning sacred ancestral lands, and providing adequate resources to our
communities. This includes giving Indigenous communities full property rights
on our reservations, rather than letting the government hold them “in trust,”
preventing us from putting the land to use by selling it, buying more, or
borrowing against it.

When we all take these steps to heal,
we can both address the harms of the past, and stop the cycle of harm that
continues because of the lasting legacy of colonization. It’s a process that
requires the collective involvement of our country as a whole. This
Thanksgiving, I encourage everyone to take time and begin this process of
healing—recognize the hurt that was caused by colonization in order to bridge
colonial divides and look forward to a new and more equitable future.

Hilary

European-descended settlers have
unique opportunities to bridge the colonial gap. It can begin by simply
changing how we introduce ourselves. The first time I said out loud, “I am a
ninth-generation American settler. All my life, and ever since 1739, our family
has been living on stolen
Indigenous land,” my worldview started changing
dramatically.

Within White settler culture, our
identities as settlers tend to be invisible to ourselves. We are entangled with
systemic White supremacy and national mythologies designed to keep us
comfortable and complicit. Many of us have developed multi-generational bubbles
of denial and amnesia about the genocide, broken treaties, and stolen land that
enabled us to stay. Our opportunity is to willingly pop those bubbles so we can
collectively decolonize and make repairs.

European-descended settler families
and communities need to begin our own healing work, together. Our social
conditioning makes it tempting to rush into “doing something” right away, but
our first step in bridging the colonial divide can simply be feeling the
discomfort of the true history, and being open to learning: how has this
history benefitted us while inflicting unbearable trauma upon Indigenous
peoples?

Facing history and being willing to
grieve helps settlers develop the capacity to apologize. Apologies
for historic harm are quietly taking place throughout
the United States. My grieving process included writing an ancestral apology
letter to Edgar, which opened healing potential for us, our families, and our
extended networks.

When settlers commit to our own process of healing and decolonization, it becomes possible to build bridges toward Indigenous peoples and communities.

Though it seems counterintuitive,
embarking on our own healing process as settlers helps us bridge the colonial
gap. This Thanksgiving, I recommend groups of settler friends and families
acknowledge their settlerhood out loud to each other, followed by a prayer or a
moment of silence.

Around the Thanksgiving table, ask
questions. Where did your people come from, and why? What types of oppression
or poverty did your family face in the time before and during migration? Did
your ancestors choose to leave behind beloved lands, families, languages and
cultures, or were they forced? Prepare some of your ancestral foods for the
Thanksgiving feast. Honoring our settler ancestors can restore their humanity,
which in some cases was compromised through dehumanizing acts of colonization
and enslavement.

Beginning this Thanksgiving, and
continuing throughout the year, settlers can learn which First Nations
previously and currently inhabit the land on
which they live and gather. Honor the Indigenous ancestors, as well as their
surviving descendants. Amongst family and friends, share Indigenous stories and
histories.

When settlers commit to our own
process of healing and decolonization, it becomes possible to build bridges
toward Indigenous peoples and communities. We can seek opportunities to visit
Indigenous-organized events and spaces, listening far more than we speak,
believing what we hear, and allowing ourselves to be quietly impacted by what
we observe.

It is not the task of European-descended
settlers to become white saviors and “fix” colonial damage within Indigenous
communities. But, we can learn to join in solidarity by supporting the
work already being envisioned and led within Indigenous communities. Follow
Diné speaker Lyla
June Johnston's guiding question: “How (if at all)
can I help?” Listen and act accordingly.

Sharing food, handshakes, and
conversation creates the universal human glue of empathy and compassion.
Cultivating relationships across difference facilitates our ability to invest
resources, time, and energy in Indigenous communities, and generates the
collective will to make reparations.

When we build bridges from the ashes
of the colonial gap, the ensuing relationships are things for which we can really
be grateful at Thanksgiving and beyond.

Republish this content

Inspiration in Your Inbox.