Tag: ancestry

What Your DNA Test Won’t Tell You

As the Thanksgiving holiday approaches, I want to express my gratitude to my ancestors for the many ways they shaped my life.

Dear Great and Great-great Grandparents,

We never had a chance to get to know each other, but I wish we had. What I wouldn’t give to hear in your own words why you left your homes in Ireland and Sicily to come to the United States and settle in Buffalo. I wonder if the reality of living in a crowded city, so unlike your rural farms, met your expectations. I wonder if you ever missed home.

Friends and family are everything in Montemaggiore Belsito, Sicily,
my grandmother’s ancestral homeland. All blog photos by Moxie Gardiner

Recently, I went back to the ancestral homelands. I learned that your lives in Sicily and Ireland as poor tenant farmers were very hard. Both islands had a tempestuous relationship with the faraway central government, and people like you sometimes felt forgotten or deliberately taken advantage of by those in authority. You came to trust only your community and family, and followed them to the Irish and Sicilian enclaves in the US, in search of work and a better life. You held on to the old traditions and your native tongue because they gave you a sense of security. You were proud to be Americans, but reluctant to let go of your heritage, and because of you I can empathize with the many who want to come here someday.

The Irish are born storytellers
Stop in any Irish pub and you’ll find songs, laughter, a pint of Guinness, and born storytellers like me.

You would be happy to know that you have many, many descendants in the US, and for the most part we are thriving. Some of us have started businesses, others teach, still others serve their country or community. Many of us still cling to the old traditions: we make cuccidati cookies for Christmas, eat pasta con sarde at St. Joseph’s Tables, and celebrate St. Patrick’s Day. I think you would be pleased to know we have no problem embracing both cultures as our own.

It wasn’t until I went to Ireland and Sicily in October, and walked where you walked, smelled the sea-scented air, learned about your history, and rubbed elbows with the people who stayed behind, that I began to feel a real connection with you and understand where I fit in the long procession of humanity that comes and goes here on earth. Yes, DNA tests can tell us a lot about our biological and genealogical makeup, about inherited skills and traits, and physical characteristics. But what you bequeathed to me couldn’t be discerned through a DNA test alone.

Nestled in the mountains of northern Sicily is the charming town of Valledolmo,
birthplace of my great grandfather.

A DNA test couldn’t tell me why certain smells, sounds, and sights evoke powerful emotions in me. Why 20 years ago, when I drove through a valley between two mountains in West Virginia, I knew I needed to build a home there.  As soon as I rounded a steep mountain curve and saw the small village of Valledolmo, Sicily, I knew why West Virginia spoke to me, even though I grew up in a city.

The wild northern coast of Ireland speaks to my heart
The wild northern coast of Ireland, home to my Irish ancestors.
The smell of Grandma's homemade bread brings back memories
In Sicily, they still bake bread
like my Nonna used to bake.

When I saw the wild coast of County Donegal and the cliffs that march right up to the sea, I understood why I was attracted to the jagged rocks along Lake Erie instead of the comfort of the beach. When a baker delivered fresh bread to a home in Montemaggiore Belsito, I understood why the smell of it can still make my knees buckle. And when I hear the sad songs of the Celtic harp, I now know why I feel a tug at my heart, a longing for a home that exists deep in my temporal lobe, where memory and imagination sit side by side.

Sunsets are memorable along Sicily's northern coast
Sunsets over the beautiful northern coast of Sicily speak to me of home.
A Sicilian man expresses his joy of life.
Gratitude is the foundation of a happy life.

By visiting your homelands, I learned what you passed along to me is more than genetic traits, more than culture and tradition. My emotional make up, personality, artistic inclinations, even some of my bad behaviors, may have come from you. Is it possible that my imagination is drawing these conclusions? Sure. But I prefer to think my soul knows what it knows. 

As the Thanksgiving holiday approaches, I want to express my gratitude to you, dear ancestors, for the many ways that you shaped my life when you set sail for the United States. Thanks to your courage, I have a good life.

Moxie Gardiner is a writer and gardener who grew up on the West Side of Buffalo, NY. In a previous life she was a journalist, magazine editor, speech writer, and policy wonk. Back in the day she made three solo parachute jumps, flew in an F-15 fighter jet, and crawled through mud pits at the Jungle Operations Training Course in Panama. She now meditates and practices yoga. She is almost ready to publish her first novel, set in Buffalo.

Root Bound

I am headed to Valledolmo and Montemaggiore Belsito in Sicily, to learn more about my great grandparents.

In October, I along with countless others will head to Sicily in search of my roots. The recent popularity of DNA testing has spurred renewed interest in finding one’s ancestors, and I decided that this year, I too, would walk in the footsteps of my forebears on a journey of self-discovery.

Hah. For me, that was easier said than done. The first challenge was figuring out where to go.

You see, like many people born in the melting pot that is, and was, the West Side of Buffalo, I am of mixed heritage. My paternal grandmother, a full-blooded Sicilian, was a significant influence in my early life so naturally I gravitated to Sicily.

Some were scandalized when my Sicilian grandmother married my Irish grandfather!

But what about my other ancestors? My Sicilian grandma married an Irishman. My maternal grandfather was born in Hungary. His parents were born in Switzerland and my grandmother’s people were German. The DNA tests also showed some surprises, like ancestors from France, England, and even Northern Africa, (not all that surprising if you know the history and geography of Sicily). Therefore, if I were a dog, I’d be what they call a “mixed breed,” or less politely, a “mutt.”

Grandpa John was born in Hungary

What’s a girl to do? I’d run out of money before I’d be able to take that kind of ancestry tour.

Which made me wonder, what are we really looking for when we search our roots? What is it we think we’ll learn? Certainly, it would be helpful to know if we have a predisposition toward certain illnesses or behaviors. For example, is my anxiety something prompted by today’s environment, or is it simply part of my genealogical makeup?

For many, I believe an ancestry quest is something more profound. It is an attempt to answer that essential, existential question—who am I—to know where you came from, and who gave you the characteristics that distinguish you from billions of others, that make you unique. How rewarding it is to find your place on a family tree that is part of humanity’s great forest. Furthermore, we gardeners know that the strength and health of a plant’s roots are essential to its ability to thrive.

I solved my personal dilemma by focusing this upcoming trip on the homelands of my father’s people—Sicily and Ireland—two small islands surrounded by vast, daunting seas. I want to learn something about why so many tempted fate and left, and if they found what they were seeking. I hope to find long-lost relatives who will help me understand.

Great Grandparents Elisabeth and Anton were Swiss

I know that all my ancestors who came from disparate lands to settle in Buffalo did have things in common. They came from impoverished circumstances in hopes of making a better life for themselves and their children. And like many immigrants, they were met with suspicion and intolerance from the people who arrived before them. The English resented the Germans, the Germans disliked the Irish, and the Irish despised the Sicilians. We sometimes forget that prejudice exists within races, as much as it does between them.

Great-great Grandma Mary was born in Ireland during the famine

It is an indisputable fact that we are a nation of immigrants. Immigrants learn that how warmly they are welcomed in their new home is a matter of timing and numbers. In our 200- plus-years of history as a nation, the US has accommodated great waves of poor immigrants many times. They came unskilled, spoke little if any English, and often required government assistance. Many times as a nation we have feared there were too many of them. However, we need to remember that immigrants also bring something our country, any country, always needs: an infusion of new blood, strong backs, determination, ambition, and dreams. Just like our ancestors.

Our vet once told us that dogs with “hybrid vigor” live the longest, healthiest lives. Armed with new DNA research, I am joyfully embracing my mixed heritage, my chance at longevity, and my future opportunities to travel to all the homes of my immigrant ancestors, to pay homage to those who made me, uniquely me.

Have you taken a DNA test yet? If so, why did you take it and what were you hoping to find? I would love to know where my readers stand. Please send me your stories! I promise to include them in the comments.