Where Am I From?
I’ve been hardcore writing about online dating and my many failures and stories. I want to switch gears today and talk about something that I find really interesting.
A co-worker and I tend to share books with one another. Among our favorites that we’ve read and discussed together are Makeda by Randall Robinson and the Warmth of Other Suns by Isabel Wilkerson. The first is fiction, the later non-fiction. Both books celebrate the African-American experience in very powerful ways. Our intense discussions of these books lead to us sharing stories about our family histories as far back as we could remember and the dismay that there are so many missing pieces to the family history of many folk, but particularly Black Americans.
I mentioned to her that a good friend of mine took a DNA test to trace his lineage back to Africa. He was totally pumped that now he knew where he was from. He found that connection that most of us African-Americans have lost along the way and it gave him a greater sense of pride.
So of course taking the DNA test was another thing on my bucket list. Just last week, I mentioned that we should do it together.
Well, my co-worker jumped the gun and she’s already sent in her saliva sample.
I’m going to have to wait until I get paid, but I’m just as thrilled for her as I am for my friend and for the possibility of what my results could be.
There’s a part of me that wants my lineage to end up in an odd part of Africa that had nothing to do with the Transatlantic Slave Route, to open up another world of questions about how my ancestors could have arrived to the United States. It’s all so very fascinating. I love the genealogy shows– especially the ones that follow celebrities and show how their ancestors were connected to moments in history.
I can’t even begin to guess what country my DNA will trace me back to. I will be surprised no matter what. To have that piece of information, will be unbelievable. And it will tell me exactly where I need to visit.
I’d also be very interested in finding out what part of my DNA suggests European heritage too. Let’s face it, if you are African-American and both of your parents came from the south (My dad’s family has a town named after them in North Carolina and a gaggle of folks black and white with the same last name in that particular region.) chances are, you have some kind of European blood. My mother is from Mississippi, just next door to Louisiana, it would be cool to have some French ancestry too.
My head is swirling with the possibilities, and thanks to science and technology, and the fact that genealogy has become so hot that it’s become more accessible to the masses, I too can trace my heritage. Whooo hooo!
And of course, I will let you folks know the results!!