My Mother, My Friend: DNA and Checking The Boxes

My mother, Gloria J. Bannarn

When I think of my mother. I can still see her smile and I can hear her voice. I remember her hair, how soft it was, I remember the way she smelled, always nice. I remember our wonderful conversations about everything from A to Z. Today, when I think of my mother, the thought of her makes me smile. It is with that smile, that I knew it was finally time to share her story.


My mother, Gloria Jean Bannarn, was my genealogy buddy. In many ways we were a team. I did the research, built the family tree and kept the records. She talked to family, asked questions and constantly reminded me about the ancestors. When she called, she would ask if I had found anything new. She was proud of her heritage and passionate about Genealogy.

My mother always wondered why she looked the way she did. People often asked her where she was from, or the question that annoyed her most,"What Are You? which she always said was rude. Although she identified with being black, or African American. She just didn't understand what it was that other's seen in her and why did they always think she was from another country. Most people just assumed that she was Mexican, Native American, Hawaiian, sometimes even Asian. Total strangers would walk up to her and start speaking in Spanish. It happened so often, that she eventually learned how to speak the language so that she could communicate.

Born to parents, Anthony Bannarn and Margaret Doyle, her mother always spoke to her about their very mixed ethnic heritage, She was told that she was African American, Irish, German, Dutch and Cherokee Indian. Her father's family was African, Irish, Seminole and Muskogee Creek Indian, I have always heard them referred to as "Black Indians". Mom said we were "Loaded With Indian."
A term that both my mother and grandmother used when describing just how much Indian we were mixed with.

My mother was fascinated with race and culture. The differences in how people looked, the beauty of their hair, skin. She embraced people from all over the world and made friends where ever she went. She often talked about her concern with race boxes when filling out forms or applications, Her questions; Do I check more than one box for race? or do I check them all? do I check any at all? I would tell her that many people choose one or two to identify themselves with. Her argument was, Why should I check just one race box when I'm more that that?  These conversations went on and on.  After all the wondering, I suggested that she take the AncestyDNA test. Her results amazed her, and finally gave her some answers to the many questions she had longed to know. However, there was one big surprise that she did not expect.

 You can probably guess what the biggest surprise of her DNA results was....
 Absolutely NO Native American.  ZERO!..NONE!

I really thought my mother was going to be Angry that she showed zero Native American. After all, She talked about native ancestors all the time, many family members looked Indian. Her grandmother was said to have been full blooded Creek. She didn't understand the Zero.. However, she was still excited and embraced it all. She began studying all the countries that her DNA results showed, she was fascinated with the people and the culture of the areas where her ancestors came form. She told me that taking that DNA test changed her life.

If you knew my mother, then you knew that she was hot tempered and outspoken, yet lovable, fun and easy going. She stood for what she believed and fought for those that could not fight for
themselves. I have always admired my mother for her strength and courage, yet I don't think I ever told her.

She no longer talked to me about her concern with checking the race boxes. She said that she believed that you had a right to choose no matter what society said you were. When I asked her why doesn't she just check one box and not worry about it, her response was..

"Checking one or even two boxes does not define who I am. For I am much more than that". And so.. she checked almost every box.

Denise

Protecting The Past and Hiding Ancestors

My Grandmother, Margaret w/ her husband Don James and mother Mary B.Doyle (Carr)

In a recent conversation with my my mother, as we sat looking over tons of pictures and talking about family. I was reminded of just how secretive we can be when it comes to our ancestors. Maybe a better word would be "Hoarder". Holding on to information and pictures like our ancestors only belong to us.  Maybe we feel that not sharing is like holding on to a little piece of those who have passed on.

I think it's pretty amazing that from two individuals come a whole nation! If my ancestors as a couple have 10, 15 or 25 children. WE, the descendants of them are ALL forever interlocked by blood. We are family.

I shared with my mother my thoughts on our emotional need, the feeling of not wanting to share. We can't take any of  it with us. What happens to our family tree and our pictures when were gone? doesn't someone have to carry on and continue to tell the story of our ancestors ? Ancestor hunting is big work. I can't imagine that I would find all there is to know about every single ancestor all by myself..although I try. :-)

Families should work together. Imagine how much we could do if we just had unity.

It takes a village.


Denise

The Women: A genealogy of Needle and Thread

Jewell Bannarn Bobo

Have you ever wondered why you do the things you do?  What makes you, you? where did it come from? maybe you have have a passion for quilting or drawing. Or maybe you are an eloquent speaker and love to talk. As I look into the lives of my ancestors, I find many different occupations. They are all artistic in one form or another. I come from a long line of women who sewed, Seamstresses.

My mother liked to sew. I remember her making pajamas, undergarments and Christmas stockings. She also crocheted doilies. Her mother sewed. Grandma had several sewing machines, and made a little of everything..coats, dresses,curtains. She did it all. Her mother; my Great-Grandmother, sewed. She made a lot of their clothing. In her day, she used flour sacks to make dresses for them. She also made quilts. Aunt Shirley, my mother's Sister, sewed too..she also Crocheted. She was a master of both. When I was 9 years old. She made me a lavender skirt and matching vest outfit. All crocheted. I thought I was too cute with my white knee high boots to match!                                                                                

My earliest memories of learning to sew are with my mother. She had a modern sewing machine, and she also had an old antique Singer machine that was given to her by her aunt, Jewell Bannarn. I remember that my sister and I would sit in the chair together and push the foot peddle..our feet, to small to push it alone.

Aunt Jewell was an excellent Seamstress. She made everything! including tailored suits for her husband Ben. When I was a teenager, Aunt Jewell would come to visit. I would run and grab my dress I had made, anxious to show her. She would carefully look it over, pointing out to me all the areas that needed improvement. Then she would explain to me what I should have done, And how to correct it. I remember feeling  disappointed that it wasn't perfect. She would say to me, " It's Alright Honey, Just Keep Trying, You'll Get It ". I will always remember Aunt Jewell. She was a sweet, beautiful person.  and she was right. I kept trying and today I am a Seamstress like all of them before me. It has become my passion.

These women all served as inspiration to me. My path with the needle and thread was being designed for me before I even knew it. Sewing, is a common thread that runs all throughout the Bannarn family. As well as many other artistic talents. I know that I carry a piece of them all with me. We all do. I think it's what makes us who we are. It all started with the ancestors.















© 2013 Denise Muhammad