The Anthropology of Genealogy

All of my worlds are colliding these days. And that's not always a bad thing.

I just finished reading the "She Reads" monthly selection and listened to the blog audio clip interview with the author. I was struck by how much local flavor colors the writing because the author is native to the setting. So while this book was not a genealogy per se, it was somewhat of a cultural, religious, and social anthropological discourse of the author's heritage. It reminded me of my own culturally diverse roots.

In doing research for the Ohio History class that I teach I've made some interesting anthropological discoveries behind my own family tree. This could prove useful for further research or for even understanding family traditions.

Most people are unimpressed when someone mentions that they are from Ohio - unless it is getting close to presidential election time and then suddenly everyone (including the media) starts treating us with respect. But in non-election years? Not so much. And who can blame them? We seem mediocre enough: just plain ol' plain.

But actually, we're anything but! We're quite a blend of anthropology. We are the example of the proverbial American melting pot. Nothing proves this more than my own lineage.

Some of my New England Anglican ancestors were the first to arrive in the newly formed Northwest Territory. In 1797 my southern Virginia Baptist ancestors appeared and settled in the same neighborhood. If you know any church or U.S. History you know that this was a potentially hostile situation. Somehow they overcame it because a son from one family married a daughter from the other. Perhaps their mutual hatred of the British united them. Both fathers were reportedly Revolutionary War veterans and their children married during the War of 1812. Or maybe their shared wilderness experiences made them set aside any differences for the sake of survival. One way or another, their bonds were forged and children were born.

A son produced from the union of this New Englander-Southern farmer alliance went on to marry a girl of Scots-Irish ancestry. They had children.

A daughter from the union of New Englander-Southern farmer -- Scots-Irish marriage went on to marry a German Protestant boy whose parents still spoke their native language almost exclusively because they had learned very little English in the 40 years since they had immigrated from the Old Country.

Okay, stick with me now! We're on a roll!

A daughter produced from this union of New Englander-Southern farmer -Scots-Irish -- German marriage went on to marry a man of English-Jewish ancestry. The English line had only been in America for a generation or so. The Jewish line had been in America (but not Ohio) for many years. You can imagine the fireworks when the Southern Jewish girl married into the high-brow English Methodist family a generation before and then moved to Ohio as a consequence!

And this is just my mother's Ohio line! When she, the New England - Southern Virginian - Scots-Irish - German - English - Jewish girl, married my dad another set of cultural, social, and religious aspects were introduced, including some inherited from his own first settlers of Ohio roots (although another part of the state entirely). Sometimes I feel like a walking Ohio History exhibit!

And on another note, perhaps it explains why sometime I feel so mixed up. I really am! I'm not religiously confused, but the cultural and social aspects can be daunting depending on the situation. It really tends to manifest itself in reaction to negative stimuli. Which culture comes into play? I'll-blow-them-out-of-the-water-after-I've-had-my-afternoon-tea English? Or shoot-first-and-ask-questions-later Scots-Irish? Hmm.

I guess I'm not so different from my dog, Pepper. She looks and acts a whole lot like her chocolate lab roots but also somewhat like the unspecified part of her lineage (which I suspect to be some type of hound). Her confusion manifests itself when she encounters a bird in the yard. First she points at it and then she haltingly runs for it. She seems to be saying, "Do I point at it or do I retrieve it? Point? Or retrieve?" Finally, she looks at me like I'm going to give her a command (which she wouldn't understand if I did). After a long moment she makes her decision, "Oh, never mind! Let's play fetch." And she picks up a ball and brings it to me.

I couldn't agree with her more. I find the study of my own anthropology to be very fetching indeed.