Thanksgiving Is the Last Holiday Consumerism Hasn’t Ruined

These reverential squares on the calendar were marked by tradition, occasion, and that sense of peaceful joy that can only be created when family gathers in celebration of something greater than our daily lives. But traditional, old-world holidays—the kind of holidays most of us grew up with—have lost the plot. Today, they’re inundated with commercialism and stretched out into ridiculously long seasons. They have become caricatures of what they once were. Thanksgiving is, in my opinion, the last holiday standing. Consumerism Has Usurped Tradition Having just recently put a cap on Halloween, I find myself mentally wading through brain fog and asking myself if I truly had a chance to enjoy the fall season. During the month of October, my Instagram feed was full of “It’s almost Christmastime” content, and even my own family members were asking me for gift ideas for my kids. In October! The hyperconsumerism of Christmas is nothing new. As Charlie Brown once famously said in his 1965 special , “I won’t let all this commercialism ruin my Christmas.” It’s a known reality that many of us literally buy into year after year. They have become caricatures of what they once were. But Christmas isn’t the only holiday that’s been swallowed by consumerism. Halloween is no longer a single day of all-out festivity for kids, marked by a packed agenda of classroom parties, school parades, and the paramount activity, the cherry on top: trick-or-treating. Oh no. Now kids are given endless options to trunk-or-treat for the three weeks leading up to Halloween, with different costumes often donned for each event to boot. And if your house isn’t bedecked in orange twinkle lights and adorned with a 12-foot skeleton, clearly you don’t love your children or care about your community. Easter, too, has become a secular season focused primarily on selling big-ticket kids’ toys and adult crafting kits. It’s all about expensive brunching and bougie spring-themed decor. Your community likely doesn’t have one single egg hunt but multiple hunts and Easter bunny meet-and-greets to pick and choose from (or hit up on different days). Even good old-fashioned, eat-a-hot-dog-in-the-backyard Fourth of July must now be marked with matching outfits. I’m a capitalist. I support the free market. But I’m of the opinion that the financial expectation and strain that accompany every holiday are becoming exhausting. More than that, I’m concerned (and I’ll admit, disturbed) by the slow and deliberate objective to sever holidays from the traditional values they’re rooted in—faith, family, and (in some instances) country. Holiday consumerism isn’t just a marketing ploy. It’s a strategy designed to distance us from the true meaning of holidays. Thanksgiving Is Special Because It Doesn’t Align With the Modern Agenda For decades, the West has been moving away from traditional Judeo-Christian values. We live in a culture that frowns upon the use of “ Merry Christmas .” That not only accepts but celebrates those who put up trees, sing carols, and use Advent calendars but actively choose to ignore and not participate in the true meaning of Christmas. (It’s the birth of Jesus, just to be clear.) As a millennial, I know firsthand the effects socialism has had on my generation and our broader American culture. I was taught about the patriarchy and the false promise of religion. I was consistently told through the media that self was more important than family. That I am a woman and, therefore, clearly at a disadvantage at every turn. I considered myself a liberal for much of my life because I was led to believe that Democrats were more intelligent and empathetic than Republicans (the party of my parents). Thanksgiving doesn’t prioritize the individual. But then I started working for a living, paying taxes, experiencing some of the harsher realities that come with aging, and having my own children. In other words, I grew up. Suddenly I found myself called back to the values I was raised on and more than a little skeptical of the popular political narrative that had been shoved down my throat since middle school. I credit my husband for having saved me from modern socialism—a story for another time—and now there’s nothing more important to me than instilling traditional values in my children. My family loves Thanksgiving. It’s my husband’s favorite holiday and one our entire household looks forward to. We love baking together the day before, and my children count down the days until they can see their beloved aunts and uncles who make the pilgrimage home for this special occasion. We love the paper turkeys, the harvest lunch put on by my kids’ Catholic elementary school, and watching movies together between Thanksgiving dinner and evening turkey sandwiches. But my family is an outlier. It’s no wonder that, in this culture of selfishness and consumerism as a means to fulfillment, we see Thanksgiving chucked to the wayside. Today’s shopping audience isn’t interested in a holiday that celebrates family above all else and that doesn’t come with a wish list and opportunity to spend money. And a large portion of adults today have zero interest in spending quality time with family, especially if it presents the risk of having to engage in conversations involving differing opinions or having to examine one’s own life trajectory compared to others. Thanksgiving doesn’t prioritize the individual. It doesn’t put mental health above all else or give us a reason to max out our credit cards. Thanksgiving is simple and selfless. And that’s why it’s one of the only holidays that still feels special. Social Media Is Killing Holiday Magic There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t find myself wishing social media would simply cease to exist. I use the platforms on my own time and as part of my professional life on a daily basis. And I firmly believe that social media platforms (paired with the invention of the smartphone) are one of the worst things to happen to mankind. While that’s largely a tirade of its own, I do believe that social media is chipping away at holiday magic and, instead, propagating a false ideal. Social media encourages comparison (for most of us, our homes and wardrobes will never be as “perfect” as an influencer’s, whose job is to literally make their life look perfect) and also generates a fake sense of urgency and doubt. It makes parents wonder if they’re making holidays special enough for their children, and grown, childless adults speculate if they’re celebrating the holidays “correctly.” I’m convinced that social media’s disinterest in Thanksgiving is a large part of what makes it feel special. I personally love that you can’t find needless amounts of Thanksgiving content online. I don’t want to know how imperfect my table setting looks, or how “basic” my green bean casserole is (I like the ugly, unhealthy kind that you make from the canned soup, thank you very much). I don’t want to feel the pressure to look upscale in heels and a tight dress on a day that involves watching a parade on television and eating to the point of bursting. Give me a pumpkin-intarsia sweater or give me death! (Not really, just give me more pie.) I’m convinced that social media’s disinterest in Thanksgiving is a large part of what makes it feel special. Protecting Thanksgiving for Generations to Come Whether you’re a Thanksgiving diehard like I am or you view it as a “pre-Christmas” ordeal, I challenge you to deny the innate, special feelings that the holiday of handprint turkeys and Stove Top stuffing conjures. As we watch holiday after holiday fall into the clutches of soulless spending and social media content, let’s come together and agree to keep Thanksgiving sacred. It’s an American holiday through and through. If you love our country , if you distance yourself from the America-hating members of our society, then for all that is holy, recognize the blessing that is the holiday of Thanksgiving and protect it from being picked apart by today’s culture vultures. Celebrate it, cherish it, keep it sacred. We owe it to ourselves, our families, and the generations to come.