Thursday, June 11, 2020

Generational Trauma: Chapter 2. Who will feed the baby

A couple of years ago someone sent me a message on Ancestry regarding some newspaper articles she had found during her own genealogy searches. She happens to be the author of the poem included in the article below from the August 7th, 1913 edition of the Ward County Herald (p. 9). 

Where do I start? Well, if you've been around for most of this ride, you know that my grandmother was the person in my life who saved me. I never doubted I was loved and valued by her, not because of anything I could offer her, just because that is what grandmothers (and hopefully for most people, parents as well). My grandmother had told me once that her parents had given up her and her siblings because they were too poor, eventually I believe they all found one another, and I believe she was fairly close to her sister Helen, but I had only seen her twice in my life, the second time being at my grandmother's funeral (which as a side note was held on April 1st, and in the years since I had seen her last she had grown to look EXACTLY like my grandmother, so imagine how fucked up of an April Fools moment I was having). 

Anyway, I had never had reason to question this story, and have spent many an hour on Ancestry trying to find potential cousins, and trying to find out more information about her parents and where they came from. Then enter the good Ancestry.com Samaritan who sent me dates from the many newspaper articles regarding my great grandfather murdering my great grandmother in a drunken fit. In a nut shell, he was a drunk, he ran off any man that he felt might steal his wife, and that weekend he came home from Minot and showed Annie (my grandmother) and one of the boys 3 bullets and explained the bullets were for them and their mother, and then he pulled out a bottle of poison and reported that that was from him. The next morning after he hit Great Grandma Katie in the face with a calf leg (yes, a calf leg), she hid outside in a barrel, and long story short, he shot her (in one of the articles he reportedly told a neighbor that he didn't regret shooting her, but that he did regret ruining a perfectly good barrel.

Understandably, grandma never told me that version. I don't know if my father knew the truth or not, if he did he never said anything to me. What I find interesting is that my father inherited my GGF John's affliction. Not only was he an alcoholic, but he was fiercely jealous regarding his wife, and like his grandfather (as mentioned in one of the articles) would guard the property with his gun lest some man come along to take HIS woman. When I told my mother of these articles she reminded me of the time (which I don't remember) dad was out in the pickup with one of his guns "guarding" the house, and she hid in the bathtub with the door locked with me. 

I hear a lot of people talk about how we need to return to the "good ol' days", as if there was a time when women and children were safe, and people lived some fantasy Little House on the Prairie wholesome life. But there were no "good ol' days". And lest you think this was just one little blip, while looking through the ND newspapers of the day I found 2 other instances of husbands shooting at their wives (one because she didn't play cards well enough). And back in 1913 we white people still bemoaned the need for "loving kindness", but nothing changed. The newspapers reported that it was well known that John was abusive to his wife and children, but no one did shit about it. Seventy years later there were a lot of people gossiping about what was or might have been happening in my life but not a single adult stepped forward or tried to intervene. 

I have no children of my own to pass my dysfunctions or generational trauma down to, and I'm quite good with that. Hopefully my cousins whoever and wherever they are have found ways to interrupt the cycle. And I hope that with this life I have been given I can be the person to step up for those who have no voice. Not with meaningless platitudes, and tired memes, but with actions that bring about change, that bring safety, healing, empowerment, and/or protection as needed to those in need.  

  • Who will feed and heal the babies that are held in concentration camps at our borders?
  • Who will feed the babies left fatherless or motherless by the violence against our Black brothers and sisters, our Native brothers and sisters, our Trans brothers and sisters, our Jewish and Muslim brothers and sisters?
  • Who will feed the babies whose parents who work minimum wage jobs but can't afford food, rent, and medication while our government givens more tax cuts to billionaires at the expense of assistance programs for those who live in poverty?
  • Who will feed the babies of those we have lost to Covid-19?
  • Who will feed the babies of those who are losing the battle addiction?
  • Who will feed the babies of those unjustly incarcerated because of the color of their skin?
#BLM


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