Christine Leonard
I’ve always believed that the journey of researching and writing about family history is just as important as the destination, but the research will often take us along unexpected paths. Uniting the current generation with earlier generations about a forgotten past is a worthy undertaking, but the project is often complex and can take a long time.
Recently I came across a book, “Starry Field: A Memoir of Lost History” by Margaret Juhae Lee. Margaret, the author, researched her family’s history set in Korea’s colonial era when it was annexed by Japan. It is a beautifully written story about secrets hidden in a family tree and handed down four generations. Margaret’s father grew up believing he knew the truth about his father, a story that led to him making decisions with lifelong consequences; however, during the author’s research, she learned that most of it was not true.
While researching my Wall family, I learned of a disputed paternity case associated with a descendant of my great-grandfather’s sibling. It wasn’t until that child was in his late 70s and in need of a birth certificate that he discovered that the couple he thought of as parents were actually his grandparents. Being the youngest of eight children by a gap of 13 years, he accepted that he was a ‘change of life’ baby, as they were often called. Adding to the shock was learning that his favourite sister, who had since passed, was his birth mother. Stumbling upon this information and eventually coming to terms with the fact that his family had kept this closely guarded secret from him for so long, manifested into a disability he would live with until the end of his days.
Thanks to DNA technology and a mutual interest in family history, two of my distant cousins found each other. After 111 years, the paternity of a little boy born out of wedlock was brought into the light of day. Unlocking safeguarded secrets and the process of those journeys can be healing—but not always. One thing is certain: each case has its own timeframe and outcome.
Unbeknownst to us as family historians, we may glean something from newspapers, oral history, birth certificates, and DNA tests that makes us question what we think we know. Not everyone is open to talking about their family’s past. In a YouTube segment, I watched the author, Margaret Juhae Lee, offer some tips that could apply to many contexts. One useful tip was to start from where you and the person you are meeting with feel most comfortable before digging deeper. If you’re at a family gathering, consider asking potential interviewees about the foods people ate at certain celebrations or family gatherings in the past. Maybe they can describe a house or garden, the grocery store or street people lived in, something that takes them back to an era whilst keeping to safe ground.
Margaret recounted discussions with her grandmother, who only spoke Korean. Margaret understands Korean reasonably well but is not comfortable speaking it, so she asked her mother to handle the translation in discussions with her grandmother. Bear in mind that Margaret’s mother was her grandmother’s daughter-in-law. Margaret found that having someone handle the language difficulties and translation meant she could focus on her grandmother’s body language, facial expressions, and mannerisms. This is not something I’ve thought about when interviewing research subjects, but I intend to pay more attention to it in the future.
This example is a salient reminder to prioritise the informant’s point of view. I approached someone to interview for a research project, and she responded negatively, leading me to assume she didn’t support the project idea. As I grew to better understand the story and put myself in the shoes of my informant, I tried a different approach. I said I was interested in contextual background such as what the neighbourhood was like, how people lived, who they played with, and where they went to school. We talked about the importance of place, culture, and other elements that would give background to my story. Changing tack helped us find common ground. I believe my informant was concerned that her memory of the facts and events was unreliable, so it was easier to say ‘no’.
Timing can be important when preparing for interviews. If your story is taking ages to complete, don’t lose hope; you will likely have learnt so much more about the topic than had you finished it in a hurry. Turn the time into an advantage. Reflect on ‘how’ you’ve been researching and how to integrate oral history into the story. Knowing more about the background and context of people’s lives helps us better understand why things happened as they did.
With my Wall family, the issue of paternity and the way a young woman was treated at the time echoed through four generations, not unlike Margaret Juhae Lee’s family. The circumstances are entirely different, but the inter-generational effects bear similarities. As we set about researching family history or any story for that matter, in turning the stones over, one never knows what will be revealed. Delving into human stories behind the records is often where the real gold lies.
Image – ‘Christine at Mary Wall’s headstone, Warrnambool cemetery. Mary Wall nee Long is Christine’s 2 x great-grandmother’
One of my family members found out a family secret on his wedding day. As he was leaving the house, resplendent in his new suit, his mother wished him luck then said “by the way, I’m not your mother, I’m your grandmother.” I can only imagine the turmoil in his mind as he stood at the altar waiting for his bride, with that information swirling around him on what should have been a happy day. It was a long marriage but not always a happy one, and I often wonder if that piece of information given at the worst possible time in his life, was part of the reason.