“In 1492, Columbus sailed the ocean blue.” Did you learn this rhyme in school? Columbus Day was first celebrated in 1792 in recognition of 300 years of exploration and development of the North American continent. One of the reasons the holiday continued to be celebrated was to promote the contributions to the American story of Italian immigrants, particularly Catholics, who were often targets of anti-immigrant sentiment.
Columbus Day takes place in the second Monday in October. So, too, does Indigenous People’s Day, which was officially recognized by the United Nations in 1977 as part of a global effort to recognize the legacy of those people that originally populated lands that were later settled by others.
My children’s history classes are surprisingly similar to my own, but they definitely bring a bigger understanding of the world to their studies (thank you, Internet!). They know that the stories of the founding of America are selectively presented to support an ideal of peace and cooperation and abundance for all. The actual histories are much darker. We can point to the legacy of slavery and disease carried by explorers and settlers and see things much differently than those cheerful school rhymes. And it would be easy for the Columbus Day and the Indigenous People’s Day supporters to point fingers at each other and shout about erasing history and cancel culture and political correctness and make it impossible for there to be a middle ground. We can’t stamp out Columbus without invalidating some important history; we can’t ignore colonialism for the same reason. It will always be an uneasy tension.
But we’re all walking this line in some way or another in our lives (if not necessarily about this particular issue). What does it look like to make space for co-existence? How can you balance your own way of being with other people’s ways of being? What do you do when groups’ beliefs clash in ways that seek to cancel each other out?
That’s just – complicated.
I certainly don’t have the answers. There are some things that I try to keep in mind as I explore my personal spirituality and the start of a magical practice that would horrify my family and ancestors (an important consideration as I begin incorporating ancestor work!).
- I work to actively learn and understand the history of the tools that I use. I try to balance honor and respect for tradition with creating something new and personally meaningful.
- I’m cultivating a willingness to look at something I’ve held and cherished – often, a belief about the world – and make changes based on new information, circumstances, or understanding. (This is so hard to do when it’s something you’ve invested a lot of energy in, like holding a grudge…)
- I remind myself that differences of opinion are not personal attacks, and any effort to provoke me into an argument doesn’t have to be successful. I’m letting go of the need to win.
- Most of all, I’m trying to frame my interactions with people in terms of intention. It’s the most powerful aspect of magic, after all. Reminding myself that we are all fallible humans who are just trying our best gives me a bigger stock of compassion and understanding to draw from – and also gives me the strength to stand up when I see something gravely wrong, believing that when people know better, they will do better.
If everyone believes they are the hero of their own story, it can be a tricky balancing act to honor all the stories and make room for difference. Believing in the power of respect and intention helps me navigate that balance.