The Daily: 13 October 2025

Today is Indigenous Peoples’s Day in my part of the world. It is actually a holiday in my office, so I’m in the kitchen rather than at my desk. For me, today is Apple Day… making apple-tomato chutney, applesauce, apple butter and probably some apple bread… because I went to Burtt’s yesterday.

But I’m not at the bank because it’s… well, I don’t know. I’m celebrating Indigenous Peoples’s Day… I don’t know what the bank is honoring…

Truthfully, I don’t know how I feel about this holiday. I mean, yes, by all means honor the people who were here when the colonizers showed up, who suffered hell under those colonizers and many generations thereafter, and who, remarkably, are still here to offer us wisdom and kindness. Yes, to all that! But this holiday did not begin as that, and its origins have left a foul taint on the day that has yet to be exorcized. In fact, I am not entirely sure that in my part of the world we are all celebrating the same holiday. Many, especially where I work, may be pausing in their labors to honor something else entirely.

This was Columbus Day. Truthfully, for me, it wasn’t Columbus Day for very long. Though the federal holiday was first celebrated 12 October 1937 — as an attempt to curb bigotry against Italian-Americans by celebrating their contributions to North American history — I don’t remember being out of school for Columbus Day when I was a kid, nor was it a prominent holiday when my sons were in school. (But then there was a fall break around this time of year; they were out of school regardless.) I think the holiday crept into my awareness some time between Son#2’s graduation and our move to New England half a decade later. Maybe it was always a thing elsewhere but was kept out of New Mexico — where the Knights of Columbus couldn’t overcome the animosity toward Columbus sufficiently to print a positive portrayal of the man in public school history books. (The state is about 11% Native after all… and a very vocal 11%, at that…) Columbus Day didn’t stand a chance in New Mexico.

So, there was no Columbus Day to concern me. But there was no Indigenous Peoples’ Day either, though that began in South Dakota back in 1990. November is Native American History Month, and in New Mexico that’s when the books on Native history and culture fill the front display tables in libraries and bookstores, with Thanksgiving near the end of the month largely celebrated as a Native holiday. Though with an inexplicable focus on turkey and football. (But then, those don’t fit into the Pilgrim version of the story either, so…)

However, when we washed up on the eastern side of the continent, suddenly there was this very official holiday honoring the very person who initiated all the horror and destruction — and who participated in a good deal of it himself, bragging about it in a series of journals that rank about equal on the disgusting scale with concentration camp record keeping and slave advertisements. To say that I am not inclined to celebrate Columbus Day is putting it mildly. Nor could I understand why anyone would. That Massachusetts did was one of the early indications — along with the confederate flag flying across the street, pervasive fears of racist South Boston, and many car vanity plates proudly stamped with variants of Masshole — that Massachusetts is not nearly as progressive as it likes to portray itself.

Almost as soon as I was aware of this holiday, I was also aware of a voluble backlash against it. I wonder if it was celebrated as Columbus Day even once in the last half century without Native peoples rightfully calling foul. In 2021, the day was finally officially rebranded as Indigenous Peoples’s Day, but… Schools in New England call it Columbus Day as often as not. The Old Farmers’ Almanac lists both names in its 13 October entry this year (along with Thanksgiving for Canada). The calendar built into this computer lists both, with Columbus Day first. And I’m pretty sure that more than a few of my co-workers, and perhaps some in my personal circle, do not know what colonialism meant and means to Native peoples — nor that Columbus, whose name gives us the word for colonialism*, is so particularly unworthy of fond remembrance.

(*Both are derived from the Latin, colonus, meaning “farmer”. Columbus’ given name in Italian was Cristoforo Colombo. His Spaniard employers called him Cristóbal Colón. Colonial is an adjectival form of his Spanish name, meaning “like Columbus”, though it can also be derived directly from Latin to mean something like “as a farmer”. But that doesn’t make any sense of the way the word is used. In any case, celebrating Columbus Day is almost literally celebrating colonialism.)

Even though I am off work for Indigenous Peoples’s Day (I think?), I haven’t been able to erase the original name from the day. The original intent of this holiday was not to honor Natives nor remember their stories. Columbus Day, while perhaps created with the best of intentions, aiming to stop the oppression of Italian immigrants, can only be perceived as a slap in the face to Native folks. One among many…

So I don’t know how to feel about it. Renaming the holiday feels hollow to me, a desiccated bone thrown to the water protectors and other Native activists — even as those activists are still suffering abuse while simply trying to keep poison out of our lands and waters. Some of those unlawfully arrested in 2021 are still battling through the courts. (As recently as August, there was another felony conviction thrown out after the Minnesota court of appeals “found ‘pervasive’ prosecutorial misconduct in the case”.) So yes, it was necessary to get rid of Columbus Day, sooner rather than later, but a more genuine form of honor might have been to listen to Native needs and demands — or at least stop attacking peaceful protesters.

In any case, I am conflicted on the day. However, one conclusion that I can draw from thinking about this holiday is that my goal of building a strong, localized, place-based community is not just economically intelligent, nor even an ecological necessity — it is the only path to a just system that will not allow for rubbishy things like holidays for colonizers. Living local is a moral imperative. I know many people don’t like that word. Morals are quite passé because we moderns are loathe to admit that we live in community with others — whether we want to or not — and morals are the limits we impose on the self so that we do not harm our communities. The word literally means “pertaining to manners” and is Cicero’s translation of the Greek, ethikos, which has a meaning that encompasses such things as mood, disposition, mores, customs and manners. Morals are how we create justice — a fair community — and living in a localized and radically embodied community is a vital prerequisite to morality.

There is much less scope for harm of all kinds when we bind ourselves to living within biophysical limits in acknowledged reciprocity with others. There is no colonialism and much less racial injustice when we live in place, in rooted community. There is no taking without giving back and much less taking from far away — because that is materially and energetically costly and therefore difficult to recompense. There is also less need to take from elsewhere when your community provides all needs — from food and shelter to holidays and deities and meaning.

A robust community, a place that lives without causing harm to itself and other places, a people that recognizes fundamental interdependence — in short, a good-mannered culture — takes care of itself. It is a culture of care. No need for much trade. No tolerance for theft of life or lifeways. No desire for being of superior status because superiority has no definition in an interdependent world. And work is done to meet needs, not generate profits — meaning, among other things, that there are no paychecks. (And no banks…) There is never a conflict between your ability to live well and your need to live equitably with others.

This is justice. And I’m thinking living local is the only way to get there.

So maybe today, on Indigenous Peoples’s Day, we could all explore what it means to be native to a place. Maybe we could spend some time today learning how indigenous peoples the world over have managed to create cultures and communities that have lasted for millennia, successfully adapting to all sorts of changes — except the advent of colonialism. Maybe we could see how to fit our lives within the just boundaries of our own communities so that we do not perpetuate the damages of colonialism and other projects of modernity. Maybe we could just practice some nice manners. Be kind, considerate, caring in all that you do and all that you are.

Christopher Columbus was an average Renaissance guy with typically shallow morality. He was intentionally sundered from all community or relationship except with those who would fund his ambitions for wealth and renown. This is not a role model. This is the exact opposite. Be as unlike Columbus as you can and you will be happy, no need to go seeking and thieving the lands and cultures of others. I think that’s the message for today.

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©Elizabeth Anker 2025