Fantastical Nuances of the Family Narrative! (A multimedia ex-TRAVA-ganzA!!!!

Going through life, zooming through space, our intrepid adventurer finds himself faced ferociously and phonetically by the most fiendish fields of fiduciary finds: the Family Narrative.


So, what exactly is a family narrative? Well, it kind of depends on the point of view of the person involved, as well as just what we call a family. I guess that, in the biggest sense, a family narrative could be thought of as...

Oooh...ahhh...so infinity...

the Universal narrative: the story of, quite literally, everything. This includes the things we know, the things we knew, the things we will know, the things we might have known if we'd noticed the bit of pop-tart that found its way into the experiment, the things that we'll never know, and the things that we never could have even learned about with a million chimpanzees fired at the sun, trying to figure out the button to turn them around. But this is a fairly boring history, because there's so much of it that any comprehensive (and comprehensible) version would either be really reduced--things were and things happened!--or go on long after anyone remotely interested in learning it has been burned up by a thousand solar flares. So, let's go smaller:

I can see my house

the Solar narrative! Now, this looks more manageable...except not. Once again (like the picture) anything would have to be too simplified to really make sense. Leaving us with

You know this is inaccurate, because it has no clouds over Oregon.

one of two narratives: the Earth narrative, or the Human narrative. I know a lot of people see those two as synonymous, but considering that humanity has been around for the barest part of the 'b' in blip, those two are very different. Still, once again, we have the problem of too much complexity, and not enough time. Leaving us with National narratives (quick shout-out to APUSH [AP-US History], I loved that class), the State/ Territory/ Provincial narrative, Town narrative, and the Individual narrative.

And it's this last one that I'm going to focus on, because I'm going to use the single most restrictive definition of family possible...OK, maybe not the most restrictive. I'm still counting my step-mom here. So, yay!

"I will reap your soul with my dead eyes."

I know my family narrative fairly well. On my dad's side (let's follow the old x-chromosome), the family immigrated in the early part of the 20th century. My great-great grandfather was an orphan from Switzerland, and on the boat he met and feel in love with another orphan. They married in New York, and had a family. His reputation has...not survived the years well. While not a bad man, he is remembered as a drunk, who would pick up my great-great grandmother by her ankles, and shake her until the money she'd hidden in her dress fell out. I don't have space to go too much into my great-grandfather--Oscar--'s story, but I will just say that at 12 he moved the family to California, and spent the rest of his life doing amazing things. Then came along my grandfather, who eventually married my grandmother (she woke up on her birthday that year and said, "this year, I will get married"), had four beautiful children, and moved up to Oregon. Then, eventually, my dad met my mom, and had my sister and me! Everything else is a story for my kids. My grandmother, meanwhile, is from Boise Idaho. Her father run the town drugstore, and had she been born 20 years later, would undoubtedly be CEO and/ or president at this point.
As for the y-chromosome, my mom's maiden name was Kerrick, and her mom's maiden name was Lee. I have been told since I was little that our line is descended from Robert E. Lee, once removed. Basically, our ancestor was his brother. What is not mentioned is the ramification. I have slave owning ancestors, and that horrifies me at a gut level. What do I do with this information? How can I reconcile my values with the fact that an ancestor I can neither name nor pick out of a line-up did such a terrible thing? I don't know. However, I do find that my mom's family--which takes such pride in their ancestry and the tiny details therein--would decided not to include that fact.

Now comes the fun part. What follows is two (someday, I hope, three/ four if I can ever get a time that works with my grandparents) interviews with people whom I respect about their family narratives. Both I would call friends, and both have been colleagues. Neither wanted to appear on camera, hence the interesting angle.

1) An immigrant from Germany.

2) A woman of color living in America.

What I find interesting about these narratives (and the views therein) are how different they are from my own. It's almost comical how closely both sides of the family mirror the overarching American narrative: they're all about individuals who drag themselves up and through life by their own bootstraps, a great list of amazing people who did incredible things. The other narratives, however, show different stories. The first--as my friend says--contains aspects of regret passed down from previous generations for moving from where they were born. There's also a sense of cultural connection, that she told her children these stories to keep them connected to Germany. The second had an aspect of dark humor about it, that even when things are down, there is still something to laugh about. However, there's also--as with my family--a kind of reverence, especially with people we knew. When we tell these stories, we bring the people who told them to us back to life, and try to capture exactly how they were told to us. In many ways, these stories are incredibly personal narratives, and it is important to remember that when we are told them, we must respect the way that they are told, even if we are unfamiliar to us.

So, why am I talking about this in a Social Studies blog? What on earth does family history have to do with the subject? Wouldn't this fit better in a Language Arts class? Well, here's the thing: I would argue that all history is a conglomeration of family narratives. People--or families--that do great things get their exploits exposed on the pages so, "carefully" skimmed by the average student (really, who can blame them half the time?), while average people get meshed into the conglomeration of background information. Meanwhile, the way that we tell history--and the tone that we give it--can affect the story as well. If we keep only telling history one way--one point of view, one kind of story--then we are not only leave out important information, but send the message that other kinds of story telling are not worth the time in academia. I've always felt that exploring other view points helps round out my own point of view. In a way, I guess, this whole experience has left me with a question. How can we grown what it means to teach Social Studies and history? How can we, as teachers in a profession, grow what it means to be human if we can move beyond, "the way it's always been?" Just a thought.

This has been another adventure in the Austentatious. If you liked it, tell your friends. If you hated it, tell your enemies. And if you don't care either way, then tell everyone.