Guilty.

The whole crew will be at my mother's house for Thanksgiving.  Aunts, uncles, cousins, neighbors, grandmas and significant others.  Multiple turkeys and lots of appetizers will join the decorated dining room that my mother and her boyfriend Gary have recently hung dead animals on the wall because Gary is a hunter.  I'm in charge of cranberry sauce and a few bottles of wine.  My mom has vintage pilgrim figurines and turkeys with their asses missing which she will fill with olives or mixed nuts.  It'll be beautiful, I'm sure.

I have had the pleasure of attending a few thanksgiving meals at other people's homes.  The food is all there and little bits of tradition manage to sneak their way onto the table.  I remember being appalled that nobody said what they were thankful for, while holding hands, before taking their first bit.  Who were these people?  I remember creamed peas missing from the table and almost packing my bags to leave.  White wine only?  I'm out.  Where's the crystal?  The hundred year old china that we have to hand wash after because it's so beautiful and delicate?  I pitied them.

I've had a pretty big lesson on family diversity this week.  It shockingly turns out that people do things differently than I do, or my family does.  There's a part of me that will always believe they are wrong and are missing out because it isn't out of a Martha Stewart magazine (my mom calls herself "Heidi Stewart" if that translates my thoughts any better).  We are raised doing things the same way each year - people call it "tradition."  It's what makes holidays fun, and each year a new memory is created making us laugh, cry, or fight.  Either way, it's what we know and therefore it feels right.

I may have freaked out on someone because their family does things a little differently than mine.  I won't go into details, but let's just say, I learned that it wasn't, and isn't any of my business what their family does.  I don't live there.  I've never lived there... and I never will.  They knew I'd have a strong reaction to what I was going to see, and even warned me, at which time I used it all against them and even called them weird.  They're not weird.  They're amazing.  I totally went for the jugular.  Bad, Allison, bad!

It made me think of a lesson in class from last week.  Stereotypes and being so afraid that we might do something to confirm a stereotype that someone has about us.  It is called Sterotype Threat.  You know those studies of people who take tests, and right before the test, someone will say, "men are naturally better test takers than women."  Guess who blows the test.... all of the women.  They get so caught up in proving the statement wrong, or believing it and not trying as hard, that they are unable to focus all of their cognitive abilities on scoring what they would have before the idea was presented to them.  This happens to all of us, all of the time.  We are terrified of someone saying, "yep, see, told ya so.  She's exactly what I thought."

It's so easy to judge.  To look down on someone, or make a mean comment because you don't agree with the way they do things.  I know about this and hate it - and here I am, guilty!  I have heard comments from my family about how silly I am for having Baylor on a tight schedule - sometimes having to leave a family dinner because he has to go to bed.  It works for us and isn't any of their business... I didn't ask to change dinner to 5pm just for Baylor and I, did I?  We do it to make ourselves feel better, like we're "in" on something, and that something is "right."  We have the experience and the knowledge, no matter the outcomes, to make these judgements and sometimes even share them even when they aren't requested.  Go through a breakup or a divorce - everyone has something to say, because most people have experience with this.  Kids?  It's impossible not to share something.

I guess my point is this:  It's hard to keep an open mind, and even harder to keep your mouth shut when your mind is closed.  I hope everyone has a wonderful Thanksgiving - with ham, duck, purple mashed potatoes, or no mashed potatoes at all... afterall, it's none of my business how you like your potatoes.