Thanksgiving, Politics, and the Art of Giving Thanks (Even for Gravity)

Thanksgiving is the great American contradiction. It's a day dedicated to gratitude, family, and food—while simultaneously testing our ability to dodge heated political debates with a mouthful of turkey. In the current political climate, the holiday has taken on new weight. How do we break bread with people who might see the world differently? How do we approach the Thanksgiving table—literally and figuratively—with grace, humor, and the kind of determination that built this country in the first place?

Let me offer a starting point: gratitude. Every year at Thanksgiving, my family does something I like to think of as a combination of tradition, group therapy, and improv comedy. After plates are piled high and forks have scraped a respectable amount of cranberry sauce onto turkey, we go around the table and ask one question: What are you thankful for?

Now, you must know a little about my family to appreciate this exercise. We're a loud, opinionated, and gloriously mismatched group. My dad once gave a toast where he quoted both comedian Steven Wright and ended with one of his favorite lines, "A free ride and free food are two of the three things no pilot ever turns down." My then-future son-in-law jokingly shared his theory that waterfalls are at the end of the universe, and his wife and my lovely daughter lifts her glass to toast to bread because "without bread, there would be no toast." My Uncle famously shows up uninvited, sharing his views on global warming, and my brilliant physicist brother-in-law does his best to listen with an open mind. Let's just say Thanksgiving is the only time I agree to sit at the kid's table, and I'm happy not to be the one at the center of attention.

Despite all this, our answers to the annual gratitude question are always surprising. Some are poignant—like being thankful for a year of good health. Others are hilarious. One year, my husband said he was thankful for "gravity," because "without it, this pie would be impossible." That same year, a close friend claimed he was thankful for noise-canceling headphones—specifically to drown out my Uncle's opinions on everything from NASA's lack of vision to the current state of our political system.

The beauty of this tradition is that it levels the playing field. In a world where it's easy to get caught up in our differences, this moment reminds us of what we have in common. No matter how different our beliefs, experiences, or favorite sides (sweet potato casserole is objectively the best), we all share the ability to appreciate something. Gratitude isn't political. It's not partisan. It's human.

And this brings me to the broader idea I want to chew on this Thanksgiving: working toward a common goal. In my family, we know there's one goal that to goes before everything on Thanksgiving—making sure the meal gets on the table (preferably before anyone fills up on appetizers). There are arguments over whose job it is to peel the carrots and debates over should we continue to cook the full meal or just pick a prepared fest up at the local resort hotel, but in the end, we all want the same thing: to sit down, share a meal, and enjoy each other's company.

It strikes me that this is the same principle we could use to navigate the current political climate. Whether you're red, blue, or something in between, we all want to sit down at the proverbial table and make sure there's something there to share—opportunity, security, prosperity. And just like in Thanksgiving prep, compromise is key. You may think your stuffing recipe is superior, but sometimes you have to make room for someone else's weird oyster stuffing experiment.

The thing is, the real magic happens not when we're arguing over the menu, but when we're actually pitching in together to make the meal happen. Just like the founding Thanksgiving story—yes, I know, it's not as straightforward as those elementary school plays made it out to be—there's something remarkable about the idea of coming together, even as different people, to create something bigger than ourselves.

So, this Thanksgiving, as you gather around the table, I encourage you to do two things. First, be thankful for the things that make you unique. Whether it's your knack for debate, your way with words, or your ability to make the perfect pie crust, these quirks are what make you you. Second, think about the future. What are you building today that you'll be thankful for a year from now? Is it a better relationship? A new project? Or maybe just more patience to listen to someone who sees the world differently than you do?

Let's aim to make gratitude a year-round habit, not just something we dust off for the holidays. Because when we focus on what we're thankful for, it's a little easier to find common ground—and maybe even to build a better world.

Wishing you a Thanksgiving full of family, good food, and plenty of gravity to keep your pie firmly on the plate.