That time that I lost it with my kids and screeched like a wounded hyena instead of remaining calm, doesn’t define me. A lot of the time, possibly even the vast majority of the time, I was a reasonably good parent. (And I’m not claiming that there was only that once.) I’m guessing your past doesn’t define you either.
Those bad moments are still part of my story. When one of those rare sensitive moments comes and one of boys utters, “You’re such a great mom,” I appreciate it even more knowing our full story. He’s not saying it because it was invariably true every moment. He’s saying it because it’s his truth.
My truth is that there were times I could have done better as a parent, but I’m pretty darned proud of the finished product, as well as my efforts in general.
For most of us, no single episode of our past will etch our legacy in stone. (I’m leaving out mass-murderers and those guilty of truly despicable crimes.) We’re the product of our lives as a whole.
When it comes to family stories, trying to erase or white-wash the past is counter-productive.
My story is still my story, complete with all the public chapters, private chapters, and hidden episodes of my heart. To try to pass off a friendly abridgement wouldn’t be leaving a legacy of myself.
The detritus is still there
The past doesn’t define you, but often, those less than ideal moments prowl around in the background of your mind, your history.
When we lived in Germany, my husband and I once kept a large banana box that a grocery store supplied us to pack our groceries in. It proved handy the next time that someone called and said they’d like to stop by in a few minutes. We cleaned up in a whirlwind, putting any unfiled papers and clutter in the banana box which we stashed in the back room.
You can probably guess what happened. By the time we’d completed our 3 ½ year assignment, we had a stack of banana boxes in the back room. Visitors may not have seen the unsightliness of our paperwork, but it wasn’t gone. It was lurking, waiting for the day when we were forced to deal with it.
Your family’s baggage is still kinda, sorta your baggage.
Life isn’t as individual as people like to think.
We’re surrounded by others and our lives inexorably impacts theirs. Our stories become a complex Venn chart, overlapping and influencing each other’s plot lines.
When people you love have struggles, you do your level best to understand what they’re going through. It’s a natural reaction to that love. Which means that loving family members, past and present, sometime means schlepping around some family suitcases. You help carry the family bags of wrongs, perceived wrongs, mistakes, and reconciliations in order to comprehend their pain and to promote healing.
Recently, a participant of a workshop mentioned that she had discovered Nazi sympathizers in her family tree. She hesitated to include that fact in her family stories, afraid that bringing that particular skeleton out of the closet would ruffle family feathers.
However, if she omits these facts, her family won’t know who their ancestors really were. Connecting to a façade is a lesser emotion than accepting someone and all their sides, warts and all.
Denying or White-washing the Past can Cause Further Harm
Your family’s past doesn’t define you, but the deeds, both good and bad, of your family members are part of the family story.
Though we absolutely DON’T carry the blame for things our ancestors did, staying cognizant of the past can put us in a position to promote healing.
Some wounds require air and the light of day to scab over and heal. When we simply cover them up, they don’t heal properly. The scars chaff. In other words, sometimes the stuff in the banana boxes in the back room need to be dealt with.
That’s especially true when the stories of the past include victimization of others.
Blogger “Robyn” explains it eloquently in her post, Suggestions For the White Descendants of Slaveholders:
…when we come across books and articles and websites about slaveholders and those books include nothing about the slaves they owned, we experience a particular kind of pain that desires at a minimum acknowledgement.
Her whole post is worth reading, but it’s not a huge spoiler to say that she suggests that descendants of slave owners share information the run across about enslaved people. Pretending that those people didn’t exist is hurtful to those who are diligently trying to trace them.
You Turn:
What parts of your family’s past have made you uncomfortable? Have you told that part of your story?
When I began researching my ancestors a few years ago, I was aware that I had ancestors who had plantations, with slaves. I found a number of facts online which indicated that those ancestors were good people; and I assumed that they were also good to their slaves.
DNA testing changed some of my assumptions. My father has a 4th cousin whose ethnicity is nearly completely made up of African people groups. However, that cousin’s surname is a match for one of our ancestors; and it was the work of one afternoon to discover the nearly certain connection. I was unprepared for my own emotional response to what had happened nearly 200 years ago. I believe that this part of our story needs to be included; I’m not sure yet how to handle it.
I’m off to read Robyn’s post. Thank you for addressing this topic.
Bless you Anita. It’s hard. Hopefully Robyn’s post will give you perspective.
Finding out that the reason my grandmother was orphaned at the age of 6 was difficult. We still have issues with mental health in the family and knowing that my gt grandmother had taken her own life and that 2 of her sons had been the first to find her makes you reflect on how hard it must have been on the family. This is something I have mentioned in at least one blog post.
Wow. And “back in the day” no one talked about those things! My grandmother had a mental illness that almost certainly played a role in her hiding her past.
Finding out that two ancestors left slaves to their children in their will. Made me very uncomfortable and still does, but it was their decision not mine.
Right. I’ve found a couple of instances like that. I kept re-reading, hoping I’d misunderstood.
But, you can’t change the past, the best we can do is pass on that information.
Laura
AMEN!!! Laura, I have people in my workshops fearful of the dark stories, but I can testify (I’m getting preachy, sorry) that airing out the old wounds so they can scab over can heal!!!!!! I finally understood my father so much better because I knew about the generations of alcoholism that preceded him. We can not white-wash history and expect all to be well in the future. It’s too difficult to live up to all the ideals people have focused on rather than a better perspective upon which to build.
Thank you for this post. Now to share it with everyone I know.
BTW… If you have a chance, Amy Johnson Crow shares some times about writing and a commenter on the video talks about not wanting to write about the dark stuff he discovered. I’d love you to help our community hear your thoughts. I’m going to put the link to this post in that feed. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XEMKsWReTcA&lc=UgwgewbBeg4LlVSba6d4AaABAg
Thanks Devon! And yes, certainly share the link where you’d like.
Excellent post, with points worthy of a great deal of thought. I understand your points, but I can also understand the pain some people experience when they encounter ancestors who are less than sterling. For a while, I did some genealogical speaking engagements, and one of my talks was on black sheep ancestors. I encouraged people to document their black sheep, just as you have. But I also left it open to each individual to decide whether they could handle it, or if they needed to protect another family member from potential anguish and pain. It’s a delicate balance. For myself, I have had no qualms about exploring my bigamous great-great grandfather, who also abandoned his family. Everything I have gathered so far suggests that he was not a strong individual, though he was basically a good man. He hit a rough patch, could not face his peccadilloes, and left. It’s an interesting story, because there’s more to it than I have space for here. It sometimes takes a few generations for the pain to subside, and then the story can often be told.
Karen, You’re right about protecting the living. If what you encounter is recent, then you have to tread carefully and ethically. Not everyone will make the same choice.