Let’s talk about irony; I just finished Faulkner’s “As I Lay Dying”, and let me tell you, that book is filled with comedic irony (I recommend it 100 percent).

Now I see irony everywhere I look, and I find it interesting that sometimes — because things are traditional — the irony is harder to see.

Since I was young, I’ve heard the story of the Pilgrims fleeing religious prosecution and landing at Plymouth Rock.

Then Squanto and some other Native Americans helped teach the pilgrims how to fish and plant corn. They come together with the tribe for the first Thanksgiving in 1621. Right? Sure.

Beyond the flawed lessons we were taught as children, Thanksgiving has become a time to come together as families and friends to give thanks for another year.

But it’s ironic that the basis of the history that goes along with this American holiday — genocide — is completely ignored.

Still, most people are aware of this already. We probably all had long conversations about this in American history classes during high school.

As Americans we have transformed this story — the colonization and murder of indigenous people — into a day where we celebrate and say thanks with our families while eating turkey.

The history doesn’t quite match the celebration, but tradition has made this holiday into something that has nothing to do with its questionable past.

The values and ideas currently attributed to Thanksgiving, such as the importance of family and being thankful, are positive despite stemming from something terrible.

Thanksgiving as we know it ironically might as well have no connection to any historical events.

But what I have found to be most ironic, past the misinterpreted holiday aspect, is that right after Thanksgiving comes Black Friday.

Black Friday, one of the biggest shopping days of the year in the United States, now takes place merely hours after you’ve finished with dessert and coffee.

According to Fundivo, 27.2 percent of shopping was done on Thanksgiving Day compared to 33.3 percent of shopping done on actual Black Friday in 2014.

It is hard to see the irony in spending a day with the supposed mission of promoting family thankfulness to run off to your local mall because we are so used to it.

It may be your family’s tradition. I know my family quickly changes to pajamas after dinner for a pre-shopping-spree nap.

But at this point we have now forsaken any history for the good interest of family bonding and love, and consequently smashed that ideal to pieces with this vapid consumerism that happens directly after.

It’s easy to make the argument that Black Friday happens in the name of love if we really want to.

On Thanksgiving, we ignore history in order to celebrate family and thankfulness, and then on Black Friday, we spend hundreds on those we love.

Walking with blinders is fun; staying naive of the situation is easy. But after being exposed to the ironies going on, I couldn’t help but think of them as I went through last week.

I kept wondering if it was just I seeing the dichotomy between our gruesome history and celebratory dinner, or our thankfulness and greed.

I enjoyed my pumpkin cheesecake, and I did go to Akira and pick out a full sequined romper. But what I learned this weekend was to look deeper into the traditions that make up our lives and how they may not be completely honest.

After reading Faulkner (thanks, professor), it is easier to see that these Thanksgiving phenomena make no sense if you actually think about them. Thanksgiving and Black Friday combined are ironically the greatest celebration of exploitation in American culture.

And weirdly enough, I am okay with it, as long as Americans are aware they are celebrating on a day in history that isn’t always told the right way.

There is nothing wrong with bringing the family together for one big meal and celebrating being thankful for all that you have. And there is also nothing wrong with following the big crowd headed toward the mall right after in order to buy some gifts for your loved ones.

As long as we remember the true history behind this uniquely American holiday, we can continue celebrating it ironically.

Leah is a freshman in Media.
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