There are some things that a DNA kit cannot tell you.
Getty / Eric Ba
When I was in fourth grade, I “interviewed” my grandfather and Nana for a class project. I loved hearing their stories, but I hated homework. Twenty years later, after they both passed away, I found the old transcript in a box when I moved out. Through tears, I read the silly questions my youngest son had asked himself: Where did you go to school? What was your first job?
My maternal great-grandparents.
Shelby Brown / CNET
Despite finding this long-lost gem, upon revisiting it it was difficult not to regret all the questions I didn’t get a chance to ask. I didn’t ask Grandpa how he felt about leaving school to go to work around the age of 14. I did not ask Nana how she was unable to inherit her family home in Germany after her father passed away because she was a woman. On the other side of the family, I didn’t ask Grandma Dottie about her time at the New York Metropolitan Opera. And I still don’t know anything about Pa George’s time as mayor of Marshall, Michigan.
Still, I kept the precious transcript secure, for fear that it was the only thing out of the old stories that had to connect with my roots. Little did I know that by 2020, we would have a set of technological services that would teach me more not only about my grandparents but also about their grandparents, giving me a new way of understanding myself.
Searching for information and interacting with your story is a valuable effort that allows you to go beyond second-hand stories and discover the roots of your roots. And the seemingly limitless tech services now available at your fingertips (or oral swabs) can get you pretty close.
My family history journey started at Ancestry.com, where I built a family tree from my mother and father’s sides. When the site discovered new information and possible family members, the “leaves” would begin to populate my tree. I didn’t think it would be as exciting as the dramatic commercials made it seem, but it was.
Pa George, my paternal grandfather.
Shelby Brown / CNET
The Ancestry database showed my grandfather’s two letters from World War II, photos of severe-looking great-grandmothers in floor-length hats and skirts, photos of 19th-century relatives adorned with vests and pocket chains, and even name from the ship that brought my father’s Scottish ancestors to America.
Ancestry also helped me understand the endurance and courage of my maternal great-grandmother. After her husband died in 1938, she bravely continued with my grandfather and siblings, ages 18, 19, and 24, in South Dakota. In 1940, just because of the loss of her husband, she was watching her children register for the draft.
While digging into family photo albums and boxes at my parents’ house, I turned to Google Lens, the search engine’s image recognition technology. The app is helping me to narrow down the German farms that are still open to visit in Stadtallendorf and Hesse where my family could have lived.
The next step on my family history journey was a DNA testing service. I sent samples to AncestryDNA and 23andMe to see if my heritage really matched the stories they had told me, and if there was anything else to learn.
Both services require a saliva sample and analyze your DNA to infer where your family originated from, as well as relationships with other users and health reports.
I wasn’t too surprised by my DNA origins, according to the kits: Germany, Ireland, Scotland, England. Each region is broken up into small ones with fuzzy descriptions of what life was like back when my ancestors might have lived there. Although the descriptions were not specific to my family, they did help unfreeze the black and white photographs and give me context for the time period.
Both kits also marked other close relatives and gave me the option to contact them. I could send a message to my maternal aunt and my mother’s cousin west via the app. While my aunt is only a phone call away, I can decide to connect with my second cousin and see what else I can learn from her about my grandfather.
Nana, probably in the mid-1930s.
Shelby Brown / CNET
My childhood memories of my maternal grandmother are tinged with pieces of German.
“Me Liebling“Nana said with a smile as she smoothed my hair.”Mein Schatz”
However, her slight figure, impeccable manners and quick tea hours did not stop her from exclaiming “Prost!” (applause) every time my sister or I burp too loudly, and the rare curse word (in any language).
My Oma (left) and Nana (right).
Shelby Brown / CNET
When I examined the photos later in life, I discovered that all the notes written on the back were also in German. The next step in my family history journey was clear: I needed to learn some German.
I downloaded Duolingo, an application that I had only used for Spanish and for school in the past. While working on the basics: nouns, pronouns, greetings, introductions, I wondered what it would be like to have been able to speak to Nana in her native language. Although I can’t have that, it felt like something connected within me. Speaking the language she spoke was one more way to keep her memory alive.
In the silent moments of confinement, I wonder how my grandparents would have reacted to technology if they were still alive today. Grandpa had a sharp mind for crossword puzzles. When I showed him what my first Nokia prepaid camera phone could do in the early stages, he looked over his glasses and chuckled as if to say “What will they think next?” and go back to his puzzle. Imagine if you could have seen the iPhone 11 or the Galaxy Z Flip.
Grandma Dottie on the radio in Michigan.
Shelby Brown / CNET
Nana made 99% of her purchases over the landline, with meticulously maintained catalog pages and an item or two circled. You may have liked Amazon Prime. I’d probably curse in German and disappear in the kitchen if I told her about Facebook. And I have no doubt that Pa George and my grandmother Dottie, the family’s social butterflies, would have cultivated an active and healthy Facebook presence.
There are aspects of my family history that no application or service could have told me. Grandma Dottie’s poster would not have appeared in Hello Dolly. The black and white photo of a young Pa George in his study, frowning in concentration as he studied the paperwork.
But it’s still easy for me to get lost in digital research. I will text my parents at odd times asking for confirmation of a place or event with little context. It has become a way to connect and learn more together, which has taken on new meaning now that we cannot visit due to the COVID-19 pandemic.
For me, the hardest part of coronavirus Lockdowns has not been seeing my parents and my sister, and admitting to myself that I didn’t visit them enough when the world was open for the shot. But we can still discover our roots together and take comfort knowing that our ancestors have also been through difficult times.
So now, when the faces of my family are piled up on the phone screen for a video chat, all smiles, laughter and “how’s it going?” Even though we all know the answer, I don’t wish for a while before, even if that meant I could ask my grandparents more questions. I also don’t want to plan for the future. Now is enough
