Although unconventional, my most anticipated moments of the holiday season are when I see my friends’ faces as they realize that I, an Italian immigrant, don’t eat turkey on Thanksgiving.
The ironically comical mix of mild horror and confusion, as if I’ve just announced I’ve never watched Harry Potter, has become endearing to me.
Thanksgiving traces back to 1621, when Pilgrims and Native Americans shared a harvest feast in Plymouth, MA. Since then, it has evolved into annual family gatherings, nostalgic meals and recognition of gratitude. One monumental and defining detail about this tradition is often lost: Thanksgiving is a U.S.-centric holiday, only celebrated here and rooted exclusively in U.S. history. I blame the schools for this omission.
Thanksgiving and the culture surrounding it expose the gaps in our school systems. American schools typically require two full years of U.S. history, which often teach the same things: the Revolution, the Civil Rights Movement. Alternative history classes? Just U.S. history in disguise.
The varying individual state standards make the pattern only clearer. New Jersey mandates two full years of U.S. history, but only one year of world history. Texas requires U.S. history, government and economics, but allows schools to choose between world history or world geography, meaning a student can graduate without taking either.
When did we lose sight of the valuable goal of well-rounded education? The lack of instruction on geography is embarrassing. A national review by Tufts University’s CIRCLE project found that only 15 states require geography for graduation. This alone reveals how invisible the world beyond American borders becomes.
Yes, understanding our country’s history is crucial, and patriotism has its appropriate place. The issue doesn’t manifest in the amount of our own history we study; it resides in how little we study of anyone else’s history. Everyone in the world knows about Thanksgiving, but we know so little about anyone in the world.
Students who actively seek a broader education, by enrolling in world or European history, are presented with courses so condensed that the class barely scratches the surface. As consoled as I am by the obvious good intentions of these classes to expand our historical horizons, they are simply unrealistic. Covering, if even slightly in depth, the history of every European country from the 1300s to the present cannot reasonably fit into a single school year.
The clear mistake is the way our schools are teaching history. American schools divide history by nation, which makes little sense given how little geography we learn. When attending school in Italy, I learned history chronologically throughout school, each year flowing into the next. This approach allowed students to learn by actively recognizing correlated events, how ideas spread and how cultures change over time. I wasn’t memorizing random facts; I was following a story. And that made the world feel a lot more real.
It’s not just about Thanksgiving; this educational shortcoming is why our students lack curiosity and awareness. Their minds and worlds are confined to whatever is right in front of them, and they rarely develop the imagination to understand lives vastly different from their own, let alone care about them.
I don’t blame our students. According to a survey by The Harris Poll, “The vast majority of students, 83 percent, say there are not enough opportunities at school for them to be curious.” How can we expect curiosity when school, the center of their lives, doesn’t teach them about different cultures and history?
And what about creating educated citizens? At a time of global political upheaval, this narrow mindset instilled in our youth kills the activism we most need now. Our citizens can’t stand up for issues they don’t even know exist.
So every November, as I skip turkey and watch my friends process my foreignness, I’m struck by how narcissistic our country can be. If our schools merely encouraged students to think outside of themselves, they wouldn’t see me not celebrating Thanksgiving as a social anomaly. They would be more equipped to simply ask and maybe even ready for a real answer. Curiosity and awareness are the keys to understanding. Isn’t that what school is supposed to be about?
