Thanks given, but differently this year
Porch potlucks and video chats as holiday moves outdoors, online
It was midmorning Thursday, and Miles Epstein wasn’t even halfway through his Thanksgiving itinerary. He’d already exchanged homemade treats with neighbors, but two big family Zoom calls still beckoned.
“We will gather by the light of our computers,” said Epstein, 60.
He wasn’t the only one juggling holiday plans. From video chats to front porch potlucks and picnics in the park, Thanksgiving celebrations moved outdoors and online this year as many Bay Area residents heeded the advice of public health experts — and lamented the traveling hordes that didn’t.
For some, it was an opportunity to jettison traditions continued more out of obligation than genuine affection — like that muchmaligned turkey. For others, it was a chance to reflect on a year of upheaval and loss.
“I never thought we’d still be doing this by November,” said Curtis Bradford, 56, echoing a sentiment shared by many revelers as he hunkered down for a day of distanced breadbreaking.
Few could have predicted a holiday season of scuttled travel plans and makeshift gatherings when the coronavirus pandemic began. For Bradford and his tightknit Tenderloin community, the Thanksgiving celebrations proceeded in the shadow of a public health crisis that has left many isolated and yearning for a sense of normalcy that now seems more distant than ever.
Alone in the apartment he’s barely left in eight months, Bradford fired up a video call with 19 of his closest friends. He would have normally spent the morning ushering at Glide Memorial Church, but the church services, like everything else, have gone virtual this year.
Bradford asked everyone on the call to reflect on the past months in isolation, an exercise that led many to express their gratitude for the simple pleasures of kissing a parent or connecting with friends.
“We recognize that there is real power in community,” said Bradford.
A similar communal spirit motivated artist Laurie Wigham to organize a curbside
Thanksgiving potluck in her Bernal Heights neighborhood. It’s just one of the many ways she’s sought to bring people together during the pandemic.
“With the relentless pressure pushing people apart, it’s like walking into a headwind trying to think of ways to pull people together again,” she said.
Wigham, who eschewed her usual family gathering, conceived of the neighborly exchange of dishes as a happy medium between “having nothing much to eat or spending the whole day cooking.” Shortly before lunchtime, she ventured out to swap persimmon chutney and mashed sweet potatoes in the street.
One neighbor, Jose Avila, brought heaping portions of coconut tres leches cake, topped with decorative roses he carved out of strawberries.
For Avila, 67, sharing the cake was about honoring the spirit of the neighborhood, which he said has become a family amid the tumult of shelterinplace. He said he hopes the community spirit lingers long after restrictions end.
He may have a long time to wait. Across town on a hillside in Alamo Square, a group of immunologists dished out a heavy dose of realism along with their sausage stuffing and caramelized onion galette.
“I think Thanksgiving next year will be similarly restricted,” said Amina, 31.
She was discussing the prospects for a return to normalcy during a “friendsgiving” lunch with three other academic immunologists who declined to share their names for fear of incurring the wrath of an online mob. The four said they are not optimistic that the country will emerge from the pandemic anytime soon, even with the delivery of a vaccine.
It may have been one of the more pessimistic — if scientifically sound — assessments of the virus to be overheard in the park on Thursday.
Others were more sanguine. The holidays are about reflecting on the adjustments we’ve all faced this year, said Natalie Schtakleff, 28, clutching two bouquets on her way home from a florist.
“I’m sad, but I’m settled with what is,” she said.