Seasons of Change


SEASONS OF CHANGE

Family History Goals

What’s Next?

Change is in the Air

Recently we had a tiny taste of Fall – most welcome after the long, hot, dry summer we experienced. The trees, as tired and stressed by the heat as I am, are already dropping leaves. They speak to my heart. It’s time for a new season. 

During the last 4 years, 

  • I’ve gone through old family photos, albums, and memorabilia. 
  • I’ve sorted, shared, and stored images and information. 
  • I’ve made my way through all the family history related physical images we have. Never thought I’d be able to say “all”.
  • I’ve consistently shared family history appetizers on social media, creating  more than 1,000 posts. 

With so much now behind me, I can evaluate my efforts and determine whether or not it met my goals. 

✔️ My goal for social sharing was to intrigue and engage family in our family’s history. My today-family is as engaged as they will likely ever be.

✔️ Another goal was to empty four large tubs of old photos that have been in the attic and share the information captured in those images with family. The tubs are empty and everything I know to share has been shared.

After four years, with empty tubs in the attic, my family history season is changing.

When I think of seasons, generally I think of:

  • Spring as the time for planting,
  • Summer for growing,
  • Fall is the time for harvesting, and
  • Winter for deepening roots.

The photos and memorabilia in the tubs were my seeds. They inspired much of the research I’ve done, and as I searched for the people and places captured in those images, their stories grew.

To propagate the stories, I packaged them as bite sized snacks and made them available on social media.

So now what? If I’m not planting new-found seeds, if I’m not cultivating the stories those seeds produced, then what am I doing? Am I done?

Not by a long shot. It’s harvest time.

While what I’ve done is good, there are inconsistencies in my end products. I created some albums, assembled several “bow-tied chapters”, and stored some information in archival boxes and hanging files.

It’s all neat. It’s organized. But it’s not as accessible as I would like. 

Digital versions can be stored in the cloud and links to that information shared, but if my folks don’t save the links (and the reality is most don’t) cloud-storage alone doesn’t result in accessibility. 

If the information isn’t accessible, what’s the point?

As I thought about seasons, I thought about farmers markets. It is through those markets that growers make their produce and products accessible. The growers planted seeds, cultivated plants, and harvested produce. Then they package their produce in bins, and transport them to market where interested persons can browse produce, picking and choosing for personal consumption. 

The family historian collects seeds, plants and cultivates the crop of stories, harvests the stories, and packages them into albums, books, files and folders. A personal website can be the platform to make that information accessible. It can be a place where interested persons can browse information, picking and choosing what they want to consume.

I’ve had a personal photography/family history website since 2009 but in recent years, it languished without clear direction and purpose. Rethinking it as a place to make my genealogical findings available to others gave me the framework from which to redesign and repurpose content. 

Fall is, by far, my favorite season. I love the colors, the sounds, and smells. I love “jacket weather”, opening windows at night, the crispness of leaves and the softness of flannel and corduroy. 

As I planned my website design, I did so organically. I chose a handful of elements I wanted to include and let those elements determine the colors and textures. Turns out, it looks like fall.

The albums, bow-tied packets, individual photos, proof documents, future books and new research can now be attractively displayed at “market” (on my website). 

My repurposed website has a public and a private side. The public side contains space for links to public-appropriate ancestor bios. It also has space for blog posts where I can expand information shared on social media as well as share thoughts and ideas not strictly family history related.

The private (family) side contains links to printables – grandparent and parent life summaries, family trees, living cousin charts, lineage society application information, as well as source (proof) documents. It also contains information – mostly unalterable and unfortunate facts resulting from ancestors’ decisions or actions – that family never talked about.

I’m choosing to honor their past reserve while making the information available to the next generation. 

Sometimes the imprint of those long ago decisions is visible today. Making the next gen family aware of the stories gives them the opportunity to understand the imprints left by our ancestors. 

My new family history season will involve

  • Creating digital, home-printable versions of everything of true value
  • Uploading digital copies to cloud storage
  • Adding links to cloud storage to my website.
  • Writing social media and blog posts with a slight variation of target audience.

Family history and genealogy is like a farmers’ co-op. Family historians from the past shared their seeds. I’ve planted their seeds, grown, and harvested my crop of stories. Now I’m making my seeds long-term accessible to others (social media, while fun, is not a long term solution).

If someone takes my seeds and chooses to plant and cultivate, cool. But if not, my fall-like website and printables provide their own sense of satisfaction, making my ancestors’ stories accessible to others who hunger for an understanding of their roots. 

Those who do not look upon themselves as a link, connecting the past with the future, do not perform their duty to the world.

Daniel Webster

A change of seasons is inevitable. It is welcome. We just need to embrace the changes and decide for ourselves what our next season entails. For me, I’m choosing to leave a legacy of love of family heritage and history.