Thanksgiving produces mixed emotions for me. Having grown up Chicano, in El Paso, Texas, the holiday carried considerable cultural baggage for me: the rampant celebration of gluttony, the Dallas Cowboys, America’s corporate franchise, always playing on the tube, the constant consumerism and, of course, the slaughter of Native Americans. And then there was my mother. When we lived in Mexico, we obviously did not celebrate Thanksgiving, so I have no early childhood memories of this particular holiday. When we moved to the states, my mom had a lady who made the best tamales and mole, I have ever eaten. So initially, we celebrated Thanksgiving in our way — the way I’d always known.
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