
Handing
over the Baton
| Issue: | 26,2004 | Page: | 12 |
|
Abstract |
Thoughts about extended
families |
| Keywords: | Geneology, fathers, children |
A
child carries forward more than your genes. Pat
Albertson thinks
a child is only the
latest member of a long family
line.
I can still
remember the day Janet and I found out that we were going to be parents for the first time. There was all the usual
emotions and feelings
that you have
come to expect. You know the ones I am
talking about: joy at
the thought of all your rose-tinted
dreams of parenthood will now be fulfilled, fear of the unknown,
curiosity as to
whether "it" will be a boy or a girl,
and all the others that have formed the basis for dozens of romantic comedies down through the years.
However,
there was at least one feeling
that I had not expected; one that I still have
difficulty naming. It was like the passing on of a baton in a
relay race, a passing on of myself to
the next generation.
It was
around this time that I first started
to wonder what
it was of myself and Janet that
we were passing on. When it comes to
answering the inevitable "ethnicity"
question on any government forms, I always have
to stop and have a think what I am going to say. The answer that
springs to mind is invariably "New
Zealander"
and, while that may
not be much help to the government statistician
paid to analyse
such data, that is the most accurate description of what I am.
I guess
therefore, the same description would have
to apply to my kids; the English, Irish,
Scottish, Maori and
Danish ancestry
they have inherited from Janet
and myself is something that is uniquely
theirs, and all those who have come
before them are a part of who they
are, and who they will become as they grow
and change.
Now here in
the so-called "western world"
we pride ourselves on having everything
committed to print, or stored on a hard drive somewhere. Oral traditions
and verbal agreements are discarded in favour of the written word(as
they say,
"a verbal agreement is not worth the paper it's written on"!). But hold on a
minute now; the written language in
this fair land is less than two
hundred years old, so what happened before that
time?
Okay, the writing has been around in the
"mother
country" for a little while longer, but what
exactly has been written down, and what
was never committed to print?
Quite often it may only be a list of names
and dates, and you may be lucky to
have even that much.
However, is
that really the sum total of all who have
gone before me? After all, these are
real people we are talking about here.
I can
remember, when I was younger, Dad telling me about his
grandfather being marooned on some island somewhere down in the
Sub-Antarctic Islands. At the time it
was, "Yeah Dad, whatever", because after all, who really listens to that kind of thing when you are
eighteen years
old, and more interested in what is on
the social calendar for next weekend, and whether I can afford to buy the new Iron Maiden album
now, or will I
have to wait 'til my next pay comes
through. After all, parents are always
going on about the old days, and what
does it matter anyway?
Now that it
is my turn to be the dad, I have
finally realised that it matters a whole lot.
In some cultures where written
language is held of
secondary
importance, there
are people whose primary function in life is to receive, store and pass on oral
histories and traditions.
"Roots" author Alex Haley came to
realise that, "... every living person ancestrally goes back to some time and some
place where no writing existed; and then human memories
and mouths and ears were the only ways those human beings could store and relay
information. They said that we who live in
the Western culture are so
conditioned to the
'crutch of print' that few among us
comprehend what a trained memory is capable of".
Reading
Alex Haley's book, starting a family of my own and the gradual realisation of my own parents'
mortality have
had a profound effect on me in terms of my
responsibilities in passing on to my children a knowledge of those who have
come before them so that they can have a better understanding who they themselves are.
I am not
alone in wanting to discover a sense of
place and identity for my family and
myself. Genealogy is one of the fastest growing hobbies in New Zealand. Family
tree making has become a million-dollar
industry in this country and overseas.
Now, young children seem to live an
eternal present
and, by the time they are old enough
to start wondering who they are and where they fit in the world, their grandparents will have
long since departed this world. If my kids are going to
have more than just hazy childhood memories and a list of names and dates taken from birth, death
and marriage
certificates, it is my responsibility
to gather and store that information now.
In doing
so, I have come to appreciate as
never before the
connections between myself, my parents,
and their parents before them. Th
ere
were so many treasures to share. I asked Mum to tell me
her life story,
and after an hour she had still not
got to the point where she was born! At times when my
parents have shared their stories
with me, I was able to see them as, not just 'the old folks'
but as real people who had lived real lives.
Their experiences have not
only shaped me but will continue to be a part of my own children, and their children in turn,
down through the
years.
Alex Haley
writes that, when one of those
in whom the tribal history is entrusted
dies, it is as if an entire library has been burned to the ground, unless that history has been passed
on
to the next generation. In this way, I believe that we as parents and
grandparents have a responsibility to gather and store for when our own children are ready to
hear them. Why not make a
start now? If you want to write them
down, that is fine. If committing
them to memory feels better, then that is great too. Just don't wait too long; the time may be short,
and the rewards are too
precious to miss out on.