Category Archives: Family

Introducing Kara Deyerin

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This photo was taken at a recent event that International Speaker Catherine St. Clair (L) spoke at that Kara and I hosted in Seattle.  Bruce Scott was presenting us with bird houses he made for each of us as a thank you.  Kara is to my far right

Hello Folks,

I want to introduce you all to my friend Kara who has become an unexpectedly wonderful friend as we journey together on our separate yet in many ways same path.  Give her a big hello and let her know you have read from her by commenting below.  Happy Friday all!! I have provided a link to her blog below, but as many of you know WordPress links do not always work or is that me messing up? haha Enjoy friends!

WHY MY DNA SURPRISE ROCKED MY IDENTITY/UNEXPECTEDLY JEWISH

BY KARA DEYERIN

Somehow you ended up taking an over-the-counter DNA test. Perhaps the commercial of lederhosen versus a kilt sucked you in. Or maybe you received the test as a gift for your birthday, Mother’s Day, or Christmas. Whatever brought you to the moment where you found yourself spitting into a little tube isn’t important. The only thing that matters is your little vial turned out to be Pandora’s box. And now that it’s open, you can’t go back.

When I took my DNA test I expected to find where in Africa my father’s ancestors hailed from. I was ready to visit Africa wearing a colorful Dashiki, I just needed to know which countries to visit. Being descended from slaves means my ancestry is lost to decades of oppression and rape. I wanted to know my exact heritage for myself and my three sons. I wanted to show my pride in my African heritage.

The moment my DNA results arrived, I knew there was a problem. My pie chart showed I was indeed 50% something, but it was an African ethnicity. I was 50% Ashkenazi Jew with zero African DNA—yes, 0% (Even my husband has a tiny bit). My foundation was rocked. First, because the ethnicity I was raised to believe was me was a lie and second because this meant the man on my birth certificate with not my father. I am an NPE, “Not Parent Expected.”

After I pulled myself from the abyss of my NPE discovery and could share my new reality with people, “I am not half black—I am Jewish and the man on my birth certificate is wrong,” a common response sent me running back towards the blackness. “It changes nothing, you are the same you.” They’re right it changes nothing and yet it changes EVERYTHING.

I’ve spent the past year and half thinking about identity. Why did my DNA results make me not want to look in the mirror? Why was my reflection now that of a stranger? Why am I experiencing an identity crisis? Apart from my name, which by the way isn’t what it should’ve been too, what makes me—me? Or you—you?

The man who coined the phrase identity crisis was Erik Erikson who interestingly suffered from his own crisis not too dissimilar to my own. He was raised Jewish but looked Scandinavian and didn’t know his biological father. As an adult, he changed his name and held himself out to be Scandinavian burying his Jewish past. Even though he coined the phrase and spent years studying the issue, I don’t think he ever really resolved his identity crisis.

According to Merriam-Webster, an identity crisis is “a personal psychosocial conflict especially in adolescence that involves confusion about one’s social role and often a sense of loss of continuity to one’s personality.” It’s the last part of the definition that resonates with me. Why did my DNA results and NPE status lead me to lose my stability in knowing who I was?

I brainstormed what I believe shapes our identity into three categories: Genetics, Culture, and Environment. Each of these categories has certain contributions that shape who we are.

Genetics Culture Environment
Race Family Interests
Gender Ethnicity Occupation
Physical Attributes Religion Events
Talents Nationality Friends

In looking at this list, the Genetics category really only had one thing that changed, my race. My talents didn’t change nor did my gender or physical attributes. But I think there’s something more going on than just an actual change. While there was only one literal change, the lens in which I viewed myself is now different. This perception is just as important as any actual changes.

Before when I looked in the mirror, I knew who I was looking at. I was the daughter of Kenneth Vassar and Joey Michaels. Now that half of that equation was removed, I didn’t know who I was seeing. I no longer could make the comparisons we’ve all made growing up. You know, when you look in the mirror to see if you’ve inherited your nose from dad or your eyes from your grandma.

I remember looking at pictures of Kenny and my mom and thinking, well maybe it’s possible. Now that I knew it wasn’t, I wanted to know who I looked like. I was desperate to know. I hated looking in the mirror and not knowing who I was looking at. So while my physical attributes hadn’t changed, the comparisons I’d been making my entire life were no longer valid. When considering perception, I can say my physical attributes and race are now different than I thought they were. This means half of my Genetic category changed.

I believe Culture has a strong influence on who we are. Our identity is developed by the stories and family traditions we’re immersed in growing up. Many of the stories I’d heard growing up didn’t apply to me, but I embraced them as mine because it was my family’s lore and traditions. Now the only connection I have to this part of me is my past; hearing the stories of people. I wonder if this is what it’s like for the kid who spent all of his childhood at his friend’s house? Do the traditions of a family a latchkey child spends his time with become his?  I think the answer is “partially.” The Culturecan be yours, but because you know your Genetics isn’t part of those traditions, you feel a little like they’re borrowed. You learn from the stories, but they are not yours.

My nationality is the same, I‘m still an American, but my ethnicity has changed. I’m no longer half black but Jewish. While I’ve come to understand what being Jewish means is complicated, I do know my desire to learn about my heritage is just as strong as it was before my DNA results. Heck, it’s that desire that brought me into this mess. And one can’t help but think about Israel if one is Jewish. Not that I’m thinking about changing my nationality, but I do believe a trip to Israel is now very high on my bucket list.

Many of you know religion is a tricky thing for me if you’ve been following my blog. I was not raised in a religious environment. I believe organized religion has done more harm than good in this world. So, the fact that Reform Judaism resonates with me is as shocking to me as my DNA results. I am trying to explore the warmth and sense of community Judaism brings me. This is a big change for me.

I do not believe family is solely those you are genetically related to, but there is something about that blood connection that means something. You know, the deadbeat relative you give a second chance to you wouldn’t give to a random guy on the street or perhaps not even to a friend. Growing up it was just mom and me and thankfully our relationship is as strong as it was before my DNA results. The connection with my husband and children hasn’t changed and I am grateful for that. In college, I dated a man whose mother couldn’t accept me because I was half black (she wanted her son to marry someone Jewish—hahaha). What if my husband was anti-Semitic and couldn’t deal with me discovering I am now half Jewish? Kenny’s and my relationship is complicated; it was complicated before my NPE. But he encouraged me to seek the truth about my heritage and family before anyone else did. Upon reflection, I am thankful my immediate family ties are the same.

While my inner family ties haven’t changed, half of my extended family is different. It is heart-breaking most of my biological paternal family has passed and no one living is willing to share my family lore or traditions with me. Much of the cultural influence affecting my identity is in flux— no wonder the category of Culture feels like it’s spinning in shaky territory.

At first glance, my Environment appears to be the most stable for my identity. I’ve made plenty of new friends along this journey, but I’ve kept all of my old friends too.  But this news has caused my interests to change. I now have many Jewish cookbooks and my family is trying foods like Kugel and Shakshuka. We are questioning whether or not to practice Christmas how we used to. And, I have the shocking event of the results of my DNA test, which certainly altered the trajectory of my life. I imagine the reverberations of this news are still yet to be experienced. Perhaps my Environment is more fluid than I thought.

After looking at this I can see why I’m having an identity crisis. By learning about my new family, exploring my Jewish roots, embracing Reform Judaism, maybe evening visiting Israel instead of Africa as I’d planned I can rebuild my identity—it will just take time; lots of time. I doubt I will resolve my identity crisis, but I hope someday I can be comfortable in my new skin. Hopefully, Erik Erikson eventually felt the identity he created fit him well too.

If you meet a fellow NPE, be kind to them, there’s a lot going on. Please don’t tell them it doesn’t change anything because it does. Tell them you love them no matter what and you’ll be there to hold their hand when they need. Their NPE news changed their life path forever and they’ll need a shoulder to lean on.

If you discover you have a new relative in your family, I hope you take a moment to at least answer their questions about medical and family history. I knew their news is shocking and likely causing you to see your family in a new light. You too need time to reevaluate things. Please remember, your new relative is dealing with Pandora’s box and trying to find a way to rebuild their identity. All they want to know is who they are. You would want nothing less in their shoes.

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Why My DNA Surprise Rocked My Identity

 

I Stopped My World

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My writing table evokes creativity. 

I stopped my world yesterday.  It was a simple thing.  First, I started my day cooking a meal for my autistic son.  Driving it to his apartment to the delight of his feasting eyes on homemade chicken tenders was so worth it.  Shortly a new job coach arrived to Luke’s home.  We are hoping to increase Luke’s structured employment or volunteer  hours in the community.  The meeting went well.

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My Mind Is Parked, But The Chocolate Is Kicking In

6/2/1977…I read this in my junior high school yearbook and smiled.

6/2/2019….When he was put in a critical thinking scenario, the whistling began as a coping mechanism. The subject was unpleasant so he was attempting to birdcall it off.

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Traffic

Many of you hate it. Today I embrace it as I sit in the back of a car with my son Luke. He is happy with his autism always giving me a child in an adult’s body. We both sense an awareness of contentment as the radio softly nurtures us with a melody of love and joy. 

In the front seat my youngest son discusses life with his dad. He pauses to look back at me smiling and gently puts his hand on my knee. 


I put mine over his.  He is home from classes for a short week. Summer will be  over soon. 

My heart is full in these moments. These are them tucked away in my memories. Nothing can steal this time. I feel filled up with all I need. 

Traffic is all around, but I am not driving. All is well on my road. 

I Wish I had A Tractor

IMG_0271.JPGI wish I had a tractor 2 weeks ago when I decided to drag my family out to the old Jenkins Cemetery in Caldwell county,  Kentucky.  Many of you may not know, but my most popular post was on finding a haunted cemetery.  It has been a top 10 google search especially during halloween.  Go check it out: The Haunting .

However, if you want to come on this adventure just keep reading.

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Autism Calmed By Nature

Many of you have met Luke through my writing on this blog. Luke has been diagnosed with Autism. Today camping brought solace to his mind. He enjoyed a day of outdoors, sitting by the river, and relaxing. Here are words to describe what I believe he was experiencing as we all do by nature in my opinion and a few photos of the area he was camping in the Cascade Mountains specifically Mt. Index in the Central area of the Cascades:

Rushing waters flow to me
Showing yourself so gently
Making my life seem tenderly calm
Sitting near you to feel your majesty

I am always thankful to see Luke resting in God’s creation. It is times like these that help me realize how close we as humans are to nature itself.
For additional info. on Mt. Index: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mount_Index

It Took 78 Years, But Siblings Meet For First Time!

Awhile ago I shared a heartwarming story about my WWII VET step-dad Roy and his celebration of his 90th birthday ( http://wp.me/p2rYD1-o8 ). Roy grew up very poor and his parents divorced while he was a boy. Roy never knew when his real dad had passed away. One day he asked me if I could find this information out because of the release of the 1940 census. I was able to give Roy his father’s death date and burial location, but the biggest surprise was that we found out he had a half-brother, and a half-sister he did not know about. When you think you have heard it all life throws you a few new curve balls! We were fortunate to contact them both and plans were made for a reunion.
This reunion finally took place. Roy greeted his new found family today at his home with my mom. It was a joyous occasion . Seven family members came to meet Roy. Since this reunion occurred in Alabama , I was unable to attend, but I did receive a phone call from them thanking me for making their reunion possible. Below is a photo of Roy in the middle who is 90, George- 78, and June – 72. The second photo is Roy working with Governor George Wallace. The third photo is Roy during WW II and the fourth photo is Roy with my mother, sister, and her husband. Life never ceases to amaze me!

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Captured By Your Presence

Dedicated To My Sons:

In a yearning desire to bring my happy and sentimental past to life again, my family traveled with me to my childhood world of Hawaii for my 50th birthday. Such nostalgia is easily brought back to my inner being as my sons experienced my old life. They too were “plunged” into instant gratification of a world they may have never known if not for my insistence to vacation there.

It is with wonder bringing dreams come true for me to be with my kids in Hawaii. Living in Hawaii for four years as a young person with my own parents was the epitome of pure joy. How can you describe something to someone else unless they experienced it themselves?

Immersing my life’s past to my children’s’ present time in Hawaii makes for a true experience now merged forever.

Showing a whole new world to them is like painting on canvas. The artist’s strokes begin with a lone girl enjoying the sand on the beach. As the artist’s rendition begins to evolve, two other figures are captured in the drawing. They are my own boys on each side of me laughing with love that comes through with each stroke of the artist’s handiwork.

This life can only get better as merging a past with its present brings on amazing memories into the future.

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What’s In A Name?

Actions speak louder than words. At least that is what my daddy used to say. He grew up dirt poor in rural Kentucky and farmed land with his own daddy. Parts of the land owned by my paternal ancestors stayed within our family for generations. In fact names also stayed in the family. Let me explain. My oldest son’s name is Luke William. My dad’s name was William Randall. My grandfather’s name was Willie. Willie’s daddy was William Farr. In fact the name William goes all the way back to William Whitnell who was a preacher. He was born in 1796 in North Carolina and fought as a young teenager in the War of 1812. His actions helped save our country and make it what it is today. The land he owned was his payment for his military service and is where this cemetery lies.
About two weeks ago, 10 men got together and cleaned our old family cemetery. It is with delight I saw cemetery stones I had never seen before. This blog post is dedicated to all you genealogy buffs out there. Keep on searching and at some point you just might find your gold mine. These people represent a part of me. Seeing these stones and this cemetery being cleaned up was one of the best gifts I could have ever imagined. There are so many folks I could thank for helping me to locate and clean this place up. I send you warm wishes with this blog! If you are interested in more photos you may go to my dedicated facebook page here: https://www.facebook.com/DescendantsOfWhitnellJenkins