Pumpkin Pie and Violent Times
Why Are So Many American Families Fighting at Holiday Gatherings?
Story by Michael B. Appy

The last time I checked Thanksgiving and Christmas were days and occasions for families to come together to share food, good words and feelings. The idea of the large family meal as an occasion for relatives to unite to create positivity, laughs, stories, music, and food is an ancient and universal custom for people everywhere, the globe over. It is a time for love, harmony, and healing, as well. This makes our lives healthier as individuals and groups. But what in the world is going on in America where it has become common and accepted for relatives to unite to fight, and physically hurt one another. You might call a fight just a fight, but not on this day. There are days to fight, and days when no one should be able to fight. Thanksgiving, Christmas, Hannaka, Kwanza, Ramadan, and other Holy Days cannot be open to war as our collective human behavior. It expresses, hatred, violence, misunderstanding, and pain. But why is it happening?

Nobody wants to talk about it, so where does it come from? Some say it is a particularly Western European tradition that we express when we behave like this. Fratricide, the act of killing a family member, was very common throughout Scotland, Ireland, Germany, Britain, and France. If you check your history you'll see that liquor and fratricidal violence at social gatherings plagued these cultures. It does not mean that the people were bad, it just means that they behaved primitively. That history and behavior effects us today because as Americanized people, we have inherited the legacy of violent, family holidays. Underneath it all, we are expressing a lack of happiness, tranquility, and sound psychological and emotional states.

In my culture – which will stay private – we celebrate Christmas as the birth of Jesus, at midnight of December 24 th . We have a meal, dance to our Afro-Caribbean music, and open the gifts at twelve o' clock. Back home it is common for families to stay up all night celebrating.   I remember one Christmas when my family and I were waiting for the midnight hour to arrive. I can't remember at what point in the conversation my messy room came up. I was 15 at the time. For no apparent reason my mother, older sister and brother all started scolding me about it. I became the focus of their negative feelings and words. I felt so alone and sad that moment. My brother, 10 years my elder, topped it by saying some cuss words. What he said didn't bother me as much as the fact that he said them in front of our mother. Although she didn't seem to mind, I became enraged. He went into the kitchen for a moment, and as he was coming out, I lost control, stood up off the couch, stepped to him and pushed him, saying some fighting words. My brother-in-law picked me up and took me away from the confrontation. My family continued to fault me, as I shed tears. My brother left, and later called crying, as well. My sister went up to her room to do the same. My mother, being short tempered and judgmental, was mad at me through out the whole thing, giving me a cold, hard look I will never forget. In the end we all made up, but we didn't ask ourselves why this all happened. Nobody yet understood, including me, that my fit of rage was a collective expression of our sad, hurt, and angry state here in America. My brother and sister were raised violently back home, and when they came to the States, my parents neglected them to chase the American dream. As a result my sister and brother, both being light skinned enough to pass, assimilated into American White culture. It was nothing they were aware of, much less had a choice about. It was a hurtful experience for them. My mother was raised even more violently, which under lied her deep longing to be back home with her parents and siblings. They all were confused, sad, and hurt from their immigration and assimilation experiences. I was the American-born boy that hadn't learned how to clean his room, as silly as that sounds. So I caught their wrath that Christmas eve. It could've been worst, and I know there are many American families that do have it worst.

I have heard of holiday seasonb brawls, and not in the “ghettos”, and “barrios”. I'm talking about White-American families. I saw an advertisement of how to avoid “Thanksgiving Day Brawls” on AOL's home page one time when I logged on. I thought to myself, “What is this madness?”; now I understand. It bothers me that so many good people are feeling cold when they should be feeling like gold. So is America good for families, or not? If you are brave enough to see the reality – and this is the “home of the brave” – then you will see, as many social analysts and psychologists do, that the American family, regardless of race, culture, or national origin, is rotting away. It has been for decades now, and it becomes painfully obvious this time of year. The increase in suicide rates among White males is a deadly reminder of this truth.

For all you readers that wish your family was closer, or know somebody that has it worst than you; God bless you all. We're in this together. Let's take our family love and unity back from the petty differences and bickering, or brawling, that our American culture throws on us. Happy holidays.

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