The ABC TV miniseries Roots: The Saga of an American Family captured the imagination of 130 million viewers in 1977. The popular miniseries was based upon an award-winning novel by Alex Haley. Many believed that the only concrete outcomes of the TV series were that white people encountered angry, black people all week and that there was an unspoken agreement that no black child would ever be named “Toby.”
Although Haley’s book was later marred by confirmed accusations of plagiarism, the country got a Hollywood version of the horrors of slavery and the transformation of proud Africans into American slaves. If black folks remember nothing else about Roots, they remember the torturous beating of Kunta Kinte to accept the name of “Toby” given to him by the slave master. After many lashings across his naked back, Kunta finally conceded to accepting his new name.
Roots opened up a new door of curiosity for families of African descent. Scores of black families were inspired to trace their roots. But how? Where do you start?
My father’s sister made the first step to tracing the paternal side of my family in the 1980’s. This motivated my two older sisters to do the same on my mother’s side. Like most African-American families, our known roots are in the South where both my mother and father were born and raised.
Tracing the roots of former slaves is a tedious process. We had to search through lots of handwritten Census records, many on micro-fiche. A couple of hours on that machine will have your eyes crossed. When it came to black folks, the U.S. Census was almost serendipitous in their counting. Sometimes, people were counted in the house who was unrelated to the family. Other times, families members were not counted who happened to be visiting in another state. You may find a family member in 1890, lose him in 1900, and then pick him up again in 1910. You must have patience and perseverance if you want to make it to the end.
Once we got enough data through the Census, we took a week visiting kin and courthouses in George and South Carolina to fill in the gaps. The family even visited the plantation where my mother’s sister spent time as a child. Of course, it’s a respectable family business now. The slave graveyard was still on the property; the thickets and weeds choked fallen grave markers if they were trying to obscure the land’s ugly past. We were all amazed when my aunt suddenly stopped in the road and said, “Here’s where our house was … I played in that tree.”
Since most African Americans were brought here as slaves, our search beyond the 1850s was impossible. Coming to this country listed as cargo on a bill of lading, we found out why black historians accused Haley’s work of lacking accurate historical scholarship. We now know that it was a creative stretch so assert that Kunta Kinte was snatched from the Gambian village of Juffure and put on a slave ship in 1767.
Our family had a lot of fun on our genealogy journey. We explored our Cherokee and German lineage and discovered unknown family members on both sides that we were able to reconnect with. To know your family roots is to appreciate those relationships, to better understand your family’s own history including the genes that shape your medical realties. We also realized how important the Census is for our people.
We are grateful for the pioneers of black genealogy who paved the way for the rest of us. They shared their experiences of researching and by the time we were ready to really embark upon the journey, there was even software to help create your family tree.
The African-American History and Genealogy Society will host a working conference at Harris Stowe this Saturday, February 20 to give you some knowledge and tools and put you on your way. Check out their website at www.stl-aahgs.com for more information. Let me know what you find out at the end of your journey.