The Thanksgiving Play

“I already struggle with the holiday of death.”

Logan calls Thanksgiving the “holiday of death,” but ironically, she is speaking as a vegan about the deaths of turkeys. Considering her commitment to making a culturally sensitive Thanksgiving play, one would expect her to be more concerned about grappling with America’s history of genocide.

“I think I can be a mentor to this woman. Help her recover from the false value placed on her sexuality because I’ve taken that journey. Show her how much more she can be. Thank you for that self-awareness.”

Logan’s white savior mentality toward Alicia (who turns out to be white too) is patronizing and infantilizing; it assumes that Alicia doesn’t know any better and needs Logan to show her the way to live her life. Contrary to her words, Logan has very little “self-awareness.” She believes herself to be a strong ally of BIPOC, yet she accepts many of the Stereotypes and Constructions of Indigeneity promulgated by colonialism.

“Let’s start with your research then. Good drama is at its core, truth.”

Logan has invited Caden as an expert in history to make their play as accurate as possible. However, she rejects most of what he offers. Most of Caden’s ideas are essentially unstageable, but the reason Logan ignores him is largely because she can’t let go of the meal that is central to popular understanding of the holiday but an entirely fabricated piece of history. The exchange raises the question of Historical Accuracy and Cultural Memory, interrogating what constitutes “truth” and what the value of that truth is.

“As our Native American compass, Alicia is allowed to say what she wants about it.”

Logan is placing the entire burden of cultural sensitivity on Alicia’s head on the presumption that she is Indigenous. However, even if Alicia were Indigenous American, a single voice does not speak for the nearly 600 Indigenous American tribes, nor the millions of Indigenous American individuals. The characters tokenize and exoticize Alicia until the perplexed woman clarifies that she only plays Indigenous Americans.

“Now is a good time to mention that in the interest of full disclosure, there are many factors, grant and school board requirements that we need to fulfill with this piece, including Thanksgiving. I am a vegan so that subject is especially sensitive for me. However I want to lift up the acknowledgement that although my sensitivity about the slaughter of millions of animals, including forty-five million turkeys, is valid, I am conscious of not allowing my personal issues to take up more space in the room than the justified anger of the Native people around this idea of Thanksgiving in our post-colonial society. I want to make that crystal clear. Especially for you Alicia.”

Logan’s speech, filled with the jargon of Performative Wokeness and White Privilege/Guilt, is unintentionally ironic, as giving this speech at all is unnecessary and thus takes up space in the room. Additionally, the requirements placed on their play by the school board and the many grants that Logan has received are parameters created by white-dominated structures of power.

“CADEN. But your email said we are going to do something revolutionary in educational theater.

JAXTON. We’re aiming for a revolution of ideas.”

Caden has little sense of the practical limitations of theater and poses an idea that would require two large groups of actors and a fire, which would never be allowed in a school play for safety reasons. In this exchange, it seems that Jaxton oversold the project to Caden or perhaps that Caden has delusions of grandeur.

“Much worse. To speculation that the entire Thanksgiving story is a fiction concocted to celebrate the victory of capitalism over communism.”

Caden is explaining the nebulousness of the mythologized first Thanksgiving, which can’t be linked to a singular event and may not have happened at all. Since they are expected specifically to devise a Thanksgiving play, this is yet another way that they are working within the dominant social structure that perpetuates white supremacy and the subjugation of Indigenous people.

“So we’re four white people making a culturally sensitive First Thanksgiving play for Native American Heritage Month? Oh my Goddess.”

The play implies that Logan’s realization should have stopped her in her tracks, considering the mission she began with to include an Indigenous voice. This mission was already shaky and misguided, but it becomes more so as they continue in the full knowledge that they are no different from any other white-centered Thanksgiving classroom performance.

“I know about color-blind casting, Caden. I’m the drama teacher. There are grants at stake! A lot of them. And the petition! If I’m not a director or an educator I’m…nothing.”

Logan spent six weeks in Los Angeles attempting to make it as an actor, concluding that she just wasn’t pretty enough and giving up after a comically short time. She has recreated her identity as an educator and a director, convincing herself that this is a superior dream. Her failures as a drama teacher therefore threaten to destabilize her entire identity. She has also managed to secure a large handful of grants, although she doesn’t disclose the amounts, and the only expense they seem to be incurring is Alicia’s salary. Logan shows that she is more concerned with her personal stake in the play’s success than any type of activism.

“JAXTON. But it was pretty obvious that she’s not Native.

LOGAN. You thought she was.

JAXTON. I could tell something was off. She’s not centered enough.”

There are many moments in the play in which Jaxton expresses unwarranted confidence and superiority. His attempt to claim that he wasn’t fooled is belied by the performance of reverence he gave when he thought Alicia was Indigenous. Jaxton also shows that he buys into stereotypes of Indigeneity, particularly the centuries-old trope of the “noble savage.”

“JAXTON. I don’t think we’re supposed to speak for anyone but ourselves.

LOGAN. Right. So we just speak for white people?

JAXTON. I think so. We see color but we don’t speak for it.”

Away from the others, Jaxton and Logan go over the rules of wokeness. Their uncertainty about what those rules are implies that they are constantly shifting—not a matter of deeply held beliefs, but rather stock phrases required to maintain credibility as self-designated allies. They present cultural sensitivity as a minefield in which one wrong or outdated statement might bring on the ultimate punishment: being canceled.

“ALICIA. Why are you the ones who get to decide everything?

LOGAN. As enlightened white allies, Jaxton and I have put a lot of thought into these issues.

JAXTON. Like every day of our lives. We can’t escape our whiteness.”

Logan and Jaxton have decided for themselves that they are enlightened white allies who are better and more socially aware than the average white person. Ironically, a few minutes earlier, they were watching Alicia intently for cues about what to do, and Alicia has not changed since then. Jaxton’s addition frames whiteness as a burden, comically mimicking the language of people of color describing daily reminders of their skin color in an oppressive society.

“LOGAN. So I can’t be content?

ALICIA. I’ve never seen a smart person that is.”

Alicia’s perspective on life is fully and unapologetically self-centered, which means that she does what she wants without feeling guilty. She’s happy not to be too smart and to have beauty to capitalize on professionally with no concerns about exploitation. She shows up late to rehearsal and doesn’t try to impress anyone. Logan is amazed by this, but she can’t stop worrying and overthinking. Notably, Logan’s lack of contentedness isn’t even paying off. Her career is on the rocks, and her current Thanksgiving project is an unmitigated disaster.

“Facts kill dreams.”

Jaxton’s statement to Caden demonstrates that his attitude toward life is similar to Alicia’s. By contrast, Caden is tied up in mental knots for the sake of historical accuracy, insisting that facts are immutable. This dry commitment to “facts,” a word that doesn’t acknowledge that historical narratives are subjective and written from particular perspectives, is likely why his playwrighting is so terrible.

“JAXTON. Do you know what I said I wanted to be when I grow up? An actor slash yoga dude.

CADEN. Like teach yoga?

JAXTON. Just be yoga. People told me that was crazy. It’s not a ‘real’ profession. But I said it anyways and here I am. I act and I do yoga. I spoke my truth. It became truth.”

In this exchange, Jaxton betrays his obliviousness to his own privilege. He has chosen his “professions” based purely on his own enjoyment, with no concerns about money or even contributing to society. The notion that merely saying something makes it truth suggests that Jaxton has been handed things through little effort of his own. Later, however, Logan elicits a confession from Jaxton that he envies her professionally, which means that he isn’t fulfilled by his leisurely vocations but has merely convinced himself that he is.

“I had it all wrong. She is here to mentor us.”

Logan has discovered that Alicia doesn’t want to be “better” or “empowered” and that perhaps they can learn from someone who seems so shamelessly satisfied with her life. Alicia has even shown Logan that she is also a beautiful woman who could capitalize on her attractiveness just like Alicia does. Glorifying Alicia’s blissful lack of social awareness foreshadows the nothingness that the characters will later decide is their play.

“LOGAN. This is appalling.

JAXTON. But it’s real. That’s what we need, not a cleansing of history but an in-your-face reminder that this is what we’re capable of or we will keep doing it.”

The gruesome scene that Jaxton and Caden have brought to Logan and Alicia is inappropriate for children and disrespectful to Indigenous people, but as Jaxton points out, it is historically accurate. This raises the question of how to teach children about atrocities that their ancestors may have perpetrated or experienced—specifically, if it’s possible to do so in an age-appropriate way without sanitizing history.

“JAXTON. You’re being a bitch—bit dictatorial about it.

LOGAN. That is an incredibly offensive gender-biased statement.

JAXTON. I went by the pronoun ‘they’ for a full year. I’m allowed one mistake.”

Jaxton’s quick attempt at covering for his misogynistic slur shows that he knows perfectly well that it’s an insulting and sexist thing to call his girlfriend. His social consciousness is shallow and performative, as he demonstrates by using his brief pronoun change as a get-out-of-criticism-free card. He doesn’t understand or care to understand oppression, but he enjoys the praise he gets for acting as if he does.

“Do you know how hard it is for a straight white male to feel ‘less than’ in this world? I don’t know that I’ve ever truly felt it in my life.”

Jaxton is once again trying to turn a lack of oppression into a form of oppression. He encourages Logan to insult him so he can feel it more, as if making himself a victim is comparable to the experience of those who are victimized by white, cisgender, male oppression on a daily basis. He stops Logan short when she brings up his sexual performance, unwilling to be made to feel “less than” as a man, although he doesn’t seem to notice that avoiding those feelings of inferiority is a privilege that actual oppressed people don’t have.

“JAXTON. I know that her lashing out is not about her and me but actually her double XXs fighting back against patriarchal oppression. It’s not personal. It felt personal for a second, which I totally needed, but intellectually I know to filter anything she says to me through layers of feminine rage.

CADEN. So no matter what she says, you don’t believe it?

JAXTON. I believe she believes it, but I know to trust myself first.”

Jaxton takes legitimate feminist ideas—e.g., that misogyny is systemic—and flips them into misogynistic justification for dismissing Logan’s valid frustrations. He sees feminist (trivialized as “feminine”) rage as false rage, as if it weren’t reasonable and caused by the behaviors of men such as himself. This is an easy way to avoid accountability for his actions, which is a primary goal in Jaxton’s life.

“Aren’t we aiming for an equitable world, not a fair world?”

Logan is citing a common phrase used to describe the goal of activism, which is equitability rather than fairness. Fairness in this context means giving the same treatment to everyone with no consideration of individual barriers, while equitability means fixing the social circumstances that create inequalities. There are several layers of irony to Jaxton’s use of the terms, as he sees the representation of Indigenousness through emptiness and silence as an act of privileging that threatens to undermine white supremacy.

“Four white people can’t do a play about Thanksgiving that doesn’t piss off the funders or the parents or the universe. So we don’t. Feel it for a moment.”

Logan’s statement is the moral of the story. Four white people should not be creating a play about Thanksgiving. There is no way that they can shape or configure it that isn’t offensive. It is not a useful avenue for activism, and perhaps no one should be doing Thanksgiving plays for children at all.

“JAXTON. This nothing breaks the cycle of lies, stereotypes, and inequality.

CADEN. The parents can’t object to that.”

While not doing the play is the right choice, Jaxton manages to spin inaction as activism. Even if they had done something profound, its reach would be limited to four white people in a single rehearsal room. Jaxton is heavily invested in seeing himself as a socially aware activist, but he isn’t interested in doing any real work.