How a Native Tragedy Became an American Tradition

Thanksgiving’s origin story endures not by accident but through erasure — a quiet echo of how marginalized histories are often pushed from view.

By Rodney Richardson

The familiar Euro-American fairytale of Thanksgiving was largely invented to soothe collective guilt over stolen land and the genocide of Native peoples—particularly the near-annihilation of the Wampanoag, the tribe that saved the illegal English immigrants from starvation during their first winter in 1620. Many Native Americans hold this sentiment deeply. For centuries, public schools have circulated stories about a joyful shared meal between Pilgrims and Native people, painted as a moment of warm fellowship. But the imagery passed down through generations bears little resemblance to the historical reality preserved in tribal accounts.

For the Wampanoag and other tribes, Thanksgiving Day is recognized as a National Day of Mourning. For the past 54 years, they have marked the day with solemn ceremonies. The United American Indians of New England, a coalition of several tribes, describes Thanksgiving as a reminder of the genocide of millions of Native people, the theft of Native lands, and the unrelenting assault on Native cultures.

Was there truly a feast and a gathering? According to some Smithsonian historians, a three-day meeting between tribal representatives and colonists did occur—but it was held to negotiate treaty terms. Ousamequin, leader of the Wampanoag, had declared an alliance with the settlers, and tribal members arrived to honor a mutual-defense pact. Over the course of these discussions, the settlers agreed to allow Wampanoag attendees to join their three-day harvest feast. But this moment of cooperation never evolved into the feel-good tradition many of us were taught. At best, it was a temporary arrangement for security—one that eventually turned against Native people.

From that point forward, many Pilgrims observed Thanksgiving as a celebration of deliverance from England and as victory over what they called “heathen savages.” Several Thanksgiving observances were held in direct response to massacres of Native people. In 1637, Massachusetts Colony Governor John Winthrop declared a day of “thanksgiving” after volunteers murdered 700 Pequot people—details that rarely appear in mainstream history books.

Still, some Indigenous people do observe Thanksgiving, though often for reasons that differ from the broader American tradition. Jacqueline Keeler, a member of the Diné (Navajo) Nation and Yankton Dakota Sioux, celebrates the holiday while describing herself as part of “a very select group of survivors.” That Native peoples endured genocide, forced relocation, land theft, and other injustices—yet retained their cultural values of sharing and generosity—gives her hope for healing.

Award-winning author and actor Sherman Alexie (Spokane and Coeur d’Alene) encourages a more holistic approach rooted in truth and unity. He celebrates by honoring the Wampanoag’s contributions to the Pilgrims and by sharing the real history of Thanksgiving with his white friends over dinner.

Sean Sherman, a Native American chef and author of The Sioux Chef’s Indigenous Kitchen, also reflects deeply on the holiday. In an interview with TIME magazine, he offered alternative ways to observe the day: “The thing is, we do not need the poisonous ‘pilgrims and Indians’ narrative. We do not need that illusion of past unity to actually unite people today. Instead, we can focus simply on values that apply to everybody: togetherness, generosity, and gratitude. And we can make the day about what everybody wants to talk and think about anyway: the food.” Sherman also notes that many Thanksgiving dishes—turkey, corn, beans, pumpkins, maple, wild rice—are rooted in Indigenous cuisines. “We should embrace this,” he says.

Thanksgiving, then, is both a tradition and a reminder—one built from a mixture of survival, violence, resilience, and the stories a nation chooses to elevate or erase. And in this moment, when questions about who gets to write America’s story feel more pressing than ever, returning to Indigenous truth is not just an act of historical accuracy. It is an act of respect.