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In my large extended family, Thanksgiving has always been the gentler of the holiday season’s festivities: oriented, in true Midwestern American fashion, around food, football, and lounging around with the clan. In a year where it seems unlikely that I’ll be able to celebrate any of the year-end holidays with family, Thanksgiving is the one I’ll miss most. Which is partly why, amid mounting reports of crowded airports and nearly full flights in this time of peak pestilence, I’m struggling to tap a well of compassion that is… well, not exactly free-flowing.

By most people’s standards, whether I like it or not, I probably fall into the camp of “pandemic shamer.” I’m open about my plans to stay put with my partner instead of flying home for the holiday, and not shy to admit that I’m terrified about a post-Thanksgiving Covid surge. While I’m not sliding into anyone’s DMs to critique choices I don’t agree with, the sentiment is implicit; by merely stating my position, I am broadcasting my belief in a ‘right’ choice that’s opposed to a ‘wrong’ one. Me = ethical. …


Kelli María Korducki

Senior Editor covering books (and more) for Forge.

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