Taking The Good with The Bad
If you’re reading this on or near my weekly publishing day, we are right in the middle of the trifecta of Allhallowtide. All Hallows’ Eve, All Saints’ Day, and All Souls’ Day occur between October 31st and November 2nd. The weather in southeast Texas is bleak and cold and feels seasonably appropriate so I’m writing a bit more about the Ancestors. My own this week, but their stories are not desperately unique, only the details.
One of the primary occupational hazards with genealogy research is the information likely to be discovered. More specifically, uncovered. Secrets and behaviors, even if somewhat acceptable (or simply accepted) in the timeframe in which they lived, determined to come to light, even after they players have departed.
I knew that both of my grandfathers were, at best, not good husbands, or fathers. At worst, my paternal grandfather was abusive and controlling. My maternal grandfather was mostly absent and when he was around, more trouble than he was worth.
In all my decades of research, I’ve only uncovered farmers, many of which did not own the land on which they lived and farmed, and industrial blue-collar families who lived in tiny apartments on packed city blocks with other families of the same financial and class status. There is comfort in this, for me since their struggles enabled me to enjoy a clear ‘descendant’s conscious’. While I am aware of my good fortune in relation to where I landed this incarnation, I’ve also been secure in the knowledge that there was no branch of my family on either side who profited off the backs of slaves or otherwise indentured servants.
If anything, they were on the other side of this. They owned no land, and they were always indebted to others for their existence. Whew. No need to check my colonialism. This is apparently now a thing, both in the US and in Ireland, where most of my DNA is steeped. This is complicated by the English names interspersed in my Irish lines.
Yes, they came from England at some point, a half-century ago. No, they did not benefit materially from their ‘Englishness’.
In my travels along the family lines I’ve researched for others, as well as my own, I’ve uncovered many unpleasant stories. It’s unavoidable. The question is, what to do about it?
First, it’s helpful to remember that while it’s compelling to learn where we come from, who our ancestors were does not define who we are. We can be proud of their accomplishments, ashamed of their behavior, and love them in either case. For better or worse, each generation represents a new cycle in our ancestral line. This clean slate is open and ready for new accomplishments, triumphs and yes, failures. We’re going to screw up. If we do so with a little less impact than the generation before, we can call it a win. Even a draw is preferable in many instances and sometimes, the best we can do. Then, with this awareness, make the conscious effort to do better, however you’re able.
That’s the key, really. The belief (substantiated by our actions) that we are doing our best given the circumstances and available resources. The belief that our ancestors also did their best, whatever that looked like. In the case of my paternal grandfather, I’m not sure that’s true but my own father did his best by breaking the link in that chain completely. My dad made his own mistakes, but they were his. The sins of his father did not touch our family. My mother followed my father’s lead, although her own father most likely suffered from severe mental illness so he may not have been entirely responsible for his negligence. Still and all, he was kept at arm’s length, in everyone’s best interest.
Recently, I discovered several distant branches of titled direct ancestors in my father’s line. One daughter eventually married out of her title, after several generations, and into the line that carries my birth name. The link connecting me with them is tenuous and requires more research, so I will hopefully disprove any claim to the landed gentry, knights, barons, and lords (whatever that all means). While finding royalty or nobility in the family tree is the holy grail of most armchair genealogists, I wouldn’t want to sully my pure bloodline of tenant farmers and working-class stiffs.
If it’s so, I’ll almost certainly uncover some unpleasant truths about the way they lived their lives, managed their lands, and made their money. But there’s nothing for me to do about it, other than accept them as my own. Ancestral privilege is a hot button in the current climate, and I get it but honestly, I just want to spend this part of my life pursuing what makes me happy, rather than immersed in the moral and ethical battles steeped in the actions of ancestral lines. If righting those wrongs fulfills your purpose, you have my support. I’ve done my time.
I suspect the pendulum will swing the other way soon enough, as it can never rest completely in the middle without going stagnant. In the meantime, I’m going to sit behind at keyboard and write about the world as it was and as it is now. Observing, poking fun, uncovering interesting stories, and doing what I can to make my immediate world better. Starfish, right?
If you would like to know more about my ancestral connection work, my Daoist path, or my other offerings such as tarot readings, spiritual guidance and mindset coaching, you can find more detailed information by using the drop-down menu on my website: The Mystic’s Parlour (the-mystics-parlour.ghost.io)
You can also contact me via email at themysticsparlour@gmail.com or on any of my social media channels. Your continued support and encouragement are greatly appreciated.