The making of me

Morgan Rooney
MSMU Class of 2020

(3/2019) Growing up, I always knew the general origins of my ancestors. My mom is mostly Norwegian and my dad is mostly Irish. It’s not something I thought much about at the beginning, but as I got older, and as a fifth generation American, I began to wonder more about how I ended up here.

My grandma had always researched into our family history on my maternal side, but I wanted to learn more. I knew that it was much more complicated than just fifty percent this and fifty percent that. Alike most people in this country (and in the world for that matter) I’m just a mixture of so many different cultures; at this point in time, it’s very difficult to figure out exactly what you are, although DNA testing is growing more common and the science is improving quickly.

I’ve researched into my dad’s family and found out about my many other Scandinavian ancestors and of the immigration story of my Irish ancestors to northern Wisconsin in the 1840s. I learned of their families, their jobs as laborers and lumberjacks, and even visited the town they settled in where many generations of my family lived, including my grandparents. Most people in my family have already visited Ireland, or hope to visit sometime in their life. I was given that opportunity as well which gave me a lot to think about.

Every year when I was growing up, my mom’s side of the family had a tradition pertaining to the Norwegian roots in my family. On New Year’s Eve, as we sat at the dining room table, she would light a burgundy candle which sat in a wooden carved lamp. She would say that whoever sat in the lamp’s light New Year’s Eve would be blessed for the following year. This Norwegian Blessing Lamp still exists throughout my mom’s family is a tradition that we practice each year to this day. It’s the only specific thing that I can trace back to Norway in my family. That, and the distant relatives that are my Facebook friends. I have read through all my grandma’s research on my great-great-grandparents from Norway and learned of their jobs as cobblers and their reasoning for coming to the United States. I also know about how they died young and even my grandfather never got to meet them.

Last year, in a history class I was taking, we were asked to write a paper on a migration story for a family member considering that we live in a country where 99 percent of people are immigrants or descendants of immigrants. I didn’t know exactly whom I’d write about but I knew exactly who could help me out. I gave my maternal grandma a call and instead of telling me a story, she sent me an entire book which was published by a distant cousin in our family who shared a common ancestor. The book was written about my fifth great grandfather and his migration journey from Lisburn in modern day Northern Ireland to the mountainous west in the United States.

Reading the book gave me a thought that was new to me. This is just one of thousands of ancestors I have and his story was so elaborate. There are so many more stories there were never recorded and written down, so I will never know them, but they all existed and I wouldn’t be here without a single one of them. The probability of my birth was miniscule, but I am here thanks to them. I try to remember that as much as I can.

It wasn’t until three or four years ago that I ended up getting a DNA test out of curiosity of my identity. This was before it became very popular to get DNA testing, so I had never known someone who had gotten one done before. Unlike most people, I can’t say I saw anything particularly surprising. There were no surprising discoveries of Native American blood. With the assumption that my results are not flawed in any way and are completely accurate (which is unlikely considering how much my results have changed with updates) I am 100 percent western European with a mixture of Irish, Norwegian, English, and a dash of French (which was actually a slight surprise). Just being able to look at the pie chart of everything that I am was an awesome purchase. I would definitely recommend this to anyone curious in their family history and identity.

As these tests are growing more popular, I have been able to connect with many relatives who have appeared as DNA matches. My family has had some very interesting discoveries with DNA matches, including discovering family members we never even knew existed.

I definitely feel like its important to acknowledge those who have died, especially those who are responsible for our existence and complicated lives.

As St. Paddy’s day approaches, many of us will get in touch with the Irish in us, whether or not there’s a lot, to connect with another fun holiday to celebrate (which there is no shame in). Either way, it is important to think back to how we got here and who made it possible. So many lives contributed to you, so you are a mix of so many different people from the past. When I learn of their struggles, it gives me a different perspective of life and what I think of as my own struggles today. Some things I struggle over are so small in comparison to the life-or-death situations of the past. Of course, there are different issues that have came to be with time, but they are so different.

As I finished my family tree several years ago and showed my grandma how far back I went, her response was, "And each one of those people love you." That comment made me smile because they are what made me, me.

Read other articles by Morgan Rooney