Modeling Gratitude Beyond the Thanksgiving Table

Modeling Gratitude Beyond the Thanksgiving Table
Neil Mufson, Head of School
 
As a kid, it was in the back seat of our family’s mint green Buick station wagon where I learned my most memorable lessons having to do with gratitude, not at the Thanksgiving table. My grandparents, whom we visited often, lived in a declining neighborhood in the Bronx. As we would wind our way to their home through even worse neighborhoods, my parents would direct comments to the backseat where my sister and I sat. They would contrast what we were seeing with the idyllic, leafy Boston suburb where we lived. Their narrative was not subtle. “Imagine living here, across from burnt out buildings… Think about having no space, no place to play and run around… We’re lucky that our air always smells good… No woods here to run into to find quiet and a place to build a fort… Grandma barely feels safe going outside anymore.” 
           
Nina and I never responded to these observations, yet our eyes often got big as we saw things so far removed from our own experiences. We knew our parents’ intent because it mirrored a constant refrain: be grateful for our good fortune; we might not have everything but we have the love of each other and lead a life of plenty; always be thankful for your situation in life; focus on the good; we’re lucky. 
          
 As children of the Depression, my parents saw the world through lenses of gratitude. My father lied about his age to enlist early in World War II and saw service in rural India, China, and Burma. He regularly showed us photos he had taken of conditions in the villages near where he had been stationed. While my imagination was most captured by the pictures of his unit’s pet monkey Moe, it was another way my parents replayed their chorus of recognizing our good fortune.
           
A few years ago, I had the opportunity to hear psychologist and writer Brené Brown before she was on the bestseller list. I most remember her saying this: “The difference between privilege and entitlement is gratitude.” While Brown’s research as a psychologist generally involves the potentially transformative power of opening oneself up to vulnerability, her words transported me to the backseat of the Buick with my sister. My parents wanted to ensure that we did not develop an attitude of entitlement. We knew we were privileged, which also meant we possessed significant responsibilities towards others.
           
The approach of Thanksgiving reminds me of the importance of instilling an “attitude of gratitude” in our children. The world moves ever more quickly and has significantly changed through the pandemic in ways we don’t yet understand. Whether because of the busy-ness of our lives or the dangers of COVID, it is harder and harder to connect in authentic, fulfilling, and nourishing ways. The constant lure and distraction of consumption can cloud what is most important. Yet by regularly considering and savoring the blessings in our lives, and by turning at least some of that gratitude outward, we can help our children find deeper meaning, happiness, and calm. My best to you and your family for a memorable and joyful Thanksgiving.