Thanksgiving is a relatively new tradition in my life, but one that has marked the start of one of my favorite love stories. Even though I’ve lived in the U.S. for 22 years, the holiday always marked an opportunity for my mother to take a break from the demands of single parenthood and her role as a high school teacher. It also usually fell right around her birthday, and the only gift she ever wanted was a day off from cooking. So, we’d order takeout from Boston Market—one of the few places open on Thanksgiving—and spend the day watching movies while decorating for the holidays.
The first time my mother and I celebrated Thanksgiving with my spouse’s family, it felt like being back with our own in Mexico. The heat from the kitchen fogged our glasses, the TV had football on, but the speakers played both American and Latin music. Laughter filled the room, kids played, and teens impatiently asked about food before it was ready. It was a perfect blend of American and Mexican traditions.
Thanksgiving 2018 marked the merging of two families. Over the past six years, we’ve exchanged traditions—setting up ofrendas, leaving out shoes for Three Kings’ Day, hiding eggs for the kids to find during Easter, and wearing matching Christmas pajamas. But more importantly, we’ve given each other permission to be more than the labels we’ve lived under.
Coming together and sharing traditions also gave us a safe space to explore parts of our identities that we were once hesitant to embrace. My mother and I had always clung tightly to our identity as Mexican immigrants, afraid that adopting American traditions might mean leaving our own behind. On the other hand, my spouse’s family, having been in the U.S. for longer, felt more connected to their American roots and had been hesitant to embrace Mexican traditions they felt disconnected from.
But since becoming one family, we’ve helped each other find balance. I’ve grown comfortable embracing the American aspects of who I am, and my spouse’s family has reached out to us for support in rediscovering their Mexican heritage—asking for Spanish lessons to better communicate with relatives who only speak Spanish and in preparation for a family trip to Mexico. Now, there’s an excitement in knowing that we don’t just belong to one place; we belong to two.
As we gather for Thanksgiving each year, I’m reminded that traditions aren’t static—they evolve, just as we do. What started as two separate families with different histories and hesitations has grown into one family that honors both our Mexican and American identities.
This is a lesson we can carry with us not only at the dinner table, but through our everyday lives. This holiday season, let’s challenge ourselves to join the uncomfortable conversations. Talking about immigration – another merging of cultures – can be difficult, but worth it to find common ground and a path forward.
Together, we can create a space where we don’t have to choose between cultures but instead can celebrate the richness of what America has to offer. The blending of my own family’s traditions is a reminder that embracing new things doesn’t mean losing who we are—it means expanding it. And in that expansion, we’ve found deeper connection, understanding, and the joy of belonging to something bigger than ourselves.
FILED UNDER: Talking Turkey
