I don’t remember learning about Thanksgiving until I was in 4th grade in 1992. That year, my mother, my siblings and I moved from the Turks and Caicos Islands to South Florida. Until then, I’d only had turkey in the form of cold cuts, which I hated, on my sandwiches – except for a bite of the giant turkey leg my father, who remained in the Turks and Caicos Islands, ordered on a trip we took to Disney World earlier that year. 

Bobbi-Jeanne Misick with her siblings and cousins inside her mother’s Florida home at Thanksgiving in 2000. Credit: Courtesy Bobbi-Jeanne Misick

Despite knowing nothing about the holiday, my Jamaican mother, Patsy, embraced it wholeheartedly. My siblings and I would spend our Christmas holidays with my father and his large extended family in Turks and Caicos. But Thanksgiving was Patsy’s time to gather everyone together in our home, and she relished it. Even after she returned to the Caribbean in 2010, it remained her favorite American holiday. 

Patsy couldn’t wrap her mind around roasting a giant bird, so she broke it down into quarters, and marinated it in traditional jerk spices and seasonings before roasting it. Our Thanksgiving table was full of Caribbean hits: my mom also made escovitch fish, fried and smothered in picked vegetables; my aunt Susan cooked curry goat; my aunt Sylvia made peas and rice, savory and studded with dried conch or salted pork. And there were some American staples, like macaroni and cheese, stuffing and collard greens, made by Sylvia’s mother-in-law from Mississippi. When the meal was over, my uncles would watch American football while sipping on Jamaican rum. 

It wasn’t until I grew older and learned in depth about the painful legacy of colonialism in the U.S. and in the Caribbean, that I began to think about Thanksgiving differently. Though critical of the holiday’s origins, I was drawn to the opportunity to gather with my family members and friends and connect to our homes and cultures through food. In this way, Thanksgiving, an American holiday, has become a tether to my home. 

I’ve been in New Orleans for four years, and with no family here, Thanksgiving has given me an opportunity to hold my friends closer. My holiday is spent sharing food and music with friends from all over the world, creating our own Thanksgiving gumbo of sorts. This year, I asked other immigrants living in New Orleans about how they view Thanksgiving and what it means to them, and what traditions from their home countries they bring to the table. 

Julio Machado, 40, is the chef and owner of Origen Venezuelan Bistro in Bywater. He’s lived in the U.S. since 2018 and is from Venezuela.

Chef Julio Machado prepares seared tuna in Creole sauce in his restaurant, Origen Venezuelan Bistro. Credit: Bobbi-Jeanne Misick / Verite News

I first learned about Thanksgiving through movies, but it didn’t feel real until I moved here. Sharing a meal, giving thanks — it’s a universal language that resonated deeply with me. I love how Thanksgiving brings people together over food  — it reminds me of family gatherings back home. It means giving thanks to God for blessing me with the best family in the world, even if we are not all together on that day. For example, my son is playing soccer in Spain. My mother is still in Venezuela — they didn’t renew her visa. I know we will be together again, whether here in United States or back in Venezuela because we are working towards it and whatever you work towards you will get it eventually. And we deeply miss those who are no longer with us, their love and memories remain a part of our celebrations. Thanksgiving is about celebrating where we’ve been and where we’re going with food as a bridge. I don’t like that it’s only once a year. Sharing gratitude and a mean should happen more often. 

At first I thought it was just about the turkey. In Venezuela we only eat turkey when [we’re] on a diet. Now I see it’s about connection, gratitude and celebrating together — something truly special. I celebrate it with a mix of friends and family. We share a traditional turkey made by me. But we always add Venezuelan touches like pernil (roast pork shoulder) made by my aunt Blanca, pan de jamon (a loaf filled with ham and olives) made by my cousin Daniel and chicken salad (elsalada de gallina) made by my grandmother Felicidad. And sometimes we have hallacas (similar to tamales — corn dough stuffed with meat and wrapped and teamed in plantain leaf). It’s a beautiful fusion of cultures around the table. 

Marcela íris de Souza Arújo, 38, is an attorney and neuroscience graduate student from Brazil. She’s been in the U.S. since 2022.

Marcela íris de Souza Arújo, her partner Brice White play with their toddler Aram in their Mid-City home. Credit: Bobbi-Jeanne Misick / Verite News

I was already familiar with the celebration of Thanksgiving before coming to the United States, because I know some aspects of North American culture …  The United States has a great influence on Brazilian cinema, language and media. I learned about Thanksgiving through television and in films, but in a romantic way. Only later did I understand the historical impact of the tradition.

This holiday is a little challenging for me because I want to nurture some cultural traditions in this country and my son’s father is North American. But it’s not a problem for us because it is also not something that is part of [my partner’s] tradition. We relate to each other on the same level about social justice issues. So we understand that this celebration is not a celebration that includes everyone. Talking about being an immigrant is difficult because sometimes immigrants are not accepted here. 

I was very surprised by [the consumerism] here because all the stores operate around the festivities. So Fourth of July ends and then another party starts and Valentine’s Day starts in February and everything here is based on decorations and excessive consumption. It’s out of bounds in my case. The reality of people from a developing country is they need to plan to consume things like sneakers or household goods – things that no one has money to buy. 

There is a very large gap between the capitalist idea of ​​consumption for this holiday and the origin of this story, which is a little about how colonization destroyed the North American indigenous peoples. So this is a celebration that makes me reflect a little more because it touches my ancestry, which includes indigenous people and Africans and Europeans. 

Here in the USA, I don’t have a special dinner at my house, but I meet good friends for dinner, not because I maintain this historical tradition of Thanksgiving, but because it’s a good opportunity to meet friends. I don’t have any emotional burden, I don’t buy specific things or foods typical of this date and I don’t intend to nurture this in my son.

Teon Reid, 38, is a chef and co-owner of 2 Brothers 1 Love catering company. He is from Jamaica and has been in the U.S. since 2000. 

Teon Reid rubs jerk seasoning onto a turkey that he’s preparing to bring to a friend’s gathering for Thanksgiving. Credit: Bobbi-Jeanne Misick / Verite News

My first Thanksgiving was a great time. When I moved here I spent six months in Connecticut and then moved to Atlanta. And in Atlanta, when I was younger, it was just always fun, family and friends, a lot of food, you know. I always love it. We had all kinds of Jamaican cuisine – stewed pork, jerk chicken, jerk pork, oxtail, fried fish, curried chicken, all the good stuff. It was very Jamaican, except potato salad. That’s one [American] thing I’ve always loved. 

To me the holiday is about family. I’m not around all of the family I was with back when I was in Atlanta, but I remember the good times. And I meet new people who invite me over and I’m not alone, which is important. 

It brings people together.You need to …  put all that sh– aside and come together, eat, drink together. I love that. This holiday is a good one. It promotes love. 

Yordanis Oreste, 43, works in hotel maintenance and is from Cuba. He has been in the U.S. since 2023.

Yordanis Oreste appreciates a day off on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving. Credit: Bobbi-Jeanne Misick / Verite News

I was a soldier in Cuba and I left Cuba fleeing or looking for a better life for my family. And if I return they will put me in prison for treason to the country. I came here for political protection. I left the island of Cuba by boat and after 14 days in the Gulf of Mexico, drinking a little bit of water and eating raw fish, a cargo ship picked us up on a fishing bank and brought us to the Coast Guard, who delivered us here in Louisiana. From there I spent two months in an immigrant prison in LaSalle Parish. Since I was released I met Mich [Gonzalez] (a Cuban American attorney in New Orleans) and he and the other immigration advocates have become like the other half of my family. 

I don’t have any family in the United States. I’m building a life here in New Orleans, doing cooking, doing cleaning, doing all the different things that you can do. But always … my heart is there in my country where I left my daughter and my mother and my brothers, always waiting to see them again someday. 

Thanksgiving is a tradition I’ve learned [that] is spent with family or friends. I like the tradition of being close to family and friends. Mich invited me to a celebration. I want to bring the Cuban culture to it. One of the things that you do in Cuban gatherings is play dominoes. So I want to bring dominoes to the party. My friends represent different Latin cultures. It’s something beautiful, seeing all the traditions of each country. Each [friend] listens to a little bit of something that they like from their country. And sometimes the nostalgia is great when you remember your country with music or with a game and you start to miss those you left behind. That part is sad, but you’re happy because you also have a group of friends here that help you to put effort into a new life in this country little by little. 

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Before joining Verite, Bobbi-Jeanne Misick reported on people behind bars in immigration detention centers and prisons in the Gulf South as a senior reporter for the Gulf States Newsroom, a collaboration...