Tuesday, February 15, 2011

A Genealogical Dig

If you were to look at my face, you'd see an Asian, an Oriental woman smiling back at you. There would be no indication that I am descended from a Jewish great, great maternal grandmother. Until I opened my mouth to speak, you'd have no idea I am fluent in the English language. For undoubtedly, I look Chinese. Having no accent, it would soon be apparent that I was born in Canada.

I've been on a genealogical dig for a few years now. Collecting photos, talking to relatives, hearing stories searching the internet, library archives and various cemetery lists. Who do I think I am by tracing family history? I intend to find out.

It began when I read a letter to the editor in the Spectator regarding repealing the Head Tax that was accompanied by a photo of six brothers that got me thinking. I discovered I was related to the author of the letter and that one of the young men in the photo was actually Lee Ying Poy, my father's father. He arrived here in the early 1900's. I had no idea he had brothers. Until that moment I had never seen a photo of my grandfather. He died in 1931 when my father was an infant. Imagine not knowing who you've descended from. All I knew was each he and his brothers were required to pay a tax to enter Canada. He has been gone so long, he is just a vague memory to those who survived him and was very rarely spoken of.

I discovered a Lee Family Association in Toronto. I wrote letters. Posted on genealogical websites. I was able to garner some historical data on those six brothers. During the course of time, one of my second cousins was able to piece together her family tree. I envied her. I'm still working on mine. Along the way, I’ve made a few interesting discoveries and connections. One cousin has my paternal grandmother’s original Head Tax certificate. Wow! That was a find.

The search for extended family continues and is on-going. It hasn’t always been easy. I’ve encountered obstacles, denials and with those intent on secret keeping. This is also hindered by my inability to read Chinese documents and be fluent in the language.

My mother’s mother is my only surviving grandparent. Born on the east coast in Canada (unsure of the year), her view of the past remains skewed, so it’s difficult to get a handle on her version of events regarding that side of the family.

Both my parents have very little recollections to share. For my father, it’s the dementia that blocks the remembering, and with my mother—let’s just say she can’t be bothered. She has no interest in digging up the past.

The most influential factor for my genealogical dig came about by watching TV, and not by being encouraged by curious relatives. I happened to tune into Henry Louis Gates Jr.’s series entitled African American Lives, a special series tracing black heritage through historical and DNA research. It was his PBS program on genealogy that explores roots, race and identity through the ancestry of remarkable individuals that further sparked my interest in my own ancestry.

I’ll never forget the day I watched the Food Network, when Aussie chef Kylie Kwong embarked on a special visit to her home village in China. Kylie’s destination in China is coincidently near where my paternal grandfather is from. Who knew? Through research I also learned of the existence of a generational book that logs each descendent from the Lee home village. A place I hope to visit one day in the future.

I am grateful to my aunt Bev who confirmed our Jewish roots. Given the racial climate in those days, it's no wonder that the stigma surrounding mixed marriages helped keep this fact buried in memory. And memory is selective depending on who you are conversing with. Especially in my clan.

For now, there’s the knowledge that my brother David is the last Lee male to carry on the family name in this generation that I know of. He has no sons so the chain will be broken. But who knows? I may in time find more family members and I remain optimistic the lineage will not end here with me holding on to the knowledge that there must be other descendents out there waiting to be found. In doing so, I continue to dig.