As you probably are aware (by virtue of the fact that you're here reading this), some professors actually do follow the official school calendar and are holding class today (I can personally attest to two cases). But among the many cancellations is my economics class, which is unfortunate because the real -- albeit often overlooked -- lesson of Thanksgiving lies in economic theory. Thanksgiving is really about the triumph of capitalism over socialism.
You've all heard the story. The Pilgrims landed in 1620 and founded Plymouth Colony. They had a harsh winter, but were helped by the local natives. To celebrate the harvest of 1621, they invited the natives to a feast. It's commonly held that this was the first Thanksgiving.
It is true that the winter was harsh, and it is true that a three- day feast did occur in 1621, but there was no Thanksgiving Proclamation, and neither a letter by Edward Winslow describing the celebration nor any other historical record makes mention of a "Thanksgiving."
In fact, according to the records of Governor William Bradford, that first year brought only a "small harvest," and the Pilgrims experienced shortages and famines throughout the next couple of years. They were rescued repeatedly by the arrival of supplies from England.
In 1623, the Pilgrims held a meeting to figure out what to do. It was suspected that the meager harvests were due in part to the colony's economic system.
Upon arriving in America, they had signed the Mayflower Compact. It mandated that "all profits and benefits that are got by trade, working, fishing, or any other means" went to the common stock of the colony.
All members received food, clothing and all other provisions from the colony's pooled assets, each according to his need. The system was based on shared community wealth -- it was an experiment in socialism. And it didn't work.
The Pilgrims went hungry because many were lazy and refused to work in the fields. Bradford noted that the younger and healthier men were discontent to "spend their time and strength working for other men's wives and children."
So at the 1623 meeting, after much debate, each family was assigned a parcel of land. They could keep what they produced, or trade it away as they saw fit.
This change in policy heralded immediate success. Bradford recorded that "it made all hands very industrious, so as much more corn was planted than otherwise would have been by any means."
Institutionalizing incentive galvanized individual productivity, leading to a rising standard of living for all. Output soared and soon, the colony was so prosperous that it began to export corn. It was during that fall, on Nov. 29, 1623, that Bradford issued his Thanksgiving Day Proclamation.
America's history is full of commonly held myths, half-truths and contradictions. It's in our interest to sort it all out, not only to judge historical characters justly, but also, ideally, to identify and avoid the mistakes of the past.
It is no small task. An individual's ability to recall past personal events is surprisingly limited and subject to distortion. These difficulties pale in comparison to the challenges we face in deciphering our nation's collective memory, using secondhand remnants from an age long gone. And often, even a firm understanding of the past does little to elucidate how old lessons can be adapted to new situations. However, we can extract guiding principles by examining the choices made and their consequences.
The real story of Thanksgiving illustrates the advantages of American capitalism. It's a lesson that still rings true today. Early obstacles along Plymouth Colony's road to self-sufficiency foreshadowed the Soviet attempt -- and failure -- to devise a model of communalism of production on a much larger and more devastating scale.
These events of the early 1620s also commemorate another longstanding American theme: a confidence in our problem-solving ability. This can-do attitude -- reflected in the Pilgrim initiative to replace a flawed economic system -- is what made, and what continues to make, America successful today.
So, on this eve of Thanksgiving, we make our way to class, armed with an individual incentive to learn, but still confident in our ability to figure out a way to get home before dinner tomorrow night.Sarah Eskreis-Winkler is a sophomore Diplomatic History major from Wynnewood, Pa.
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