Early this summer, my entire family made the trek to northern Wisconsin to visit our ancestral homestead. Roughly 25 years had passed since we last set eyes on it, thanks to conflicting schedules and other circumstances, but honestly, not much had changed at the old place.
Exhibit 1: Sense of Place
Even though I visited the family homestead only a few times in my childhood, there was still an odd sense of connection I felt to the property. This was where the stories that my father told of his childhood—of the old outhouse, the steep basement stairs he fell down, and the lake that froze in the winter and cracked like a gunshot—took place. This is where my grandfather—of whom I have only a dim memory—grew up. In essence, I set my feet on this land and had automatic roots. I belonged, even though I had rarely been there.It’s this belonging that so many today seem to be searching for. As a friend of mine noted last year, the identity crisis we see today—gender or otherwise—seems to stem in part from the prevalence of divorce in our society, unmooring children and adults, leaving them searching for a place to belong.
Instead of leaving these hurting people to turn to the latest fad on social media, potentially causing irreversible harm to themselves and others, what if we began teaching them to love and learn about where they came from? Doing so would give them an identity, a solid foundation, a place to belong—just as I discovered in my brief visit to the family homestead.
Exhibit 2: Sense of Purpose
While visiting the family homestead, I heard various stories of how my ancestors came from Sweden, several fleeing the religious persecution of the state church. They settled in a little community, one venturing into new territory with terraced farming, another establishing a little church.That terraced farmland is no longer in the family, nor does that original church building still stand, yet the legacy of my ancestors continues. They worked hard, blooming where they were planted and walking through the doors that were opened to them, even if those doors were simple, mundane tasks in a little backwoods town.
Exhibit 3: Sense of Potential
While walking down the country road near the family homestead, I couldn’t help but reflect on how likely it was that my ancestors had prayed for me, one of their unknown descendants, many years before. Such a thought inspires me to make them proud, a testament to their answered prayers. But it also inspires me to pray and work for my own descendants to have a bright future.“We would leave for consideration of those who shall then occupy our places, some proof that we hold the blessings transmitted from our fathers in just estimation; some proof of our attachment to the cause of good government, and of civil and religious liberty; some proof of a sincere and ardent desire to promote every thing which may enlarge the understandings and improve the hearts of men. And when, from the long distance of a hundred years, they shall look back upon us, they shall know, at least, that we possessed affections, which, running backward and warming with gratitude for what our ancestors have done for our happiness, run forward also to our posterity, and meet them with cordial salutation, ere yet they have arrived on the shore of being.”So how can we go about fostering these affections in ourselves and in the generations to come, both in today’s children and in tomorrow’s offspring? Planning a family heritage tour is a reasonable place to start.
The first thing to do is some historical research. Find out who your ancestors are and what they did. Research where they lived, starting with the ones who lived in locations close to you.
Then take that research and go visit those places. Find the old houses and have the guts to go knock on the door to see whether the new inhabitants will let you look around. Visit the little towns and places where your parents and grandparents lived, walking the neighborhoods and imagining what life must have been like for them.
Seek out the local graveyard, searching for the graves of relatives. Doing so will solidify the birth and death dates of those who went before, helping you to place them in the events of history, while also gaining perspective on how short and difficult many of their lives were.
Finally, talk to older relatives, either before or during your trip. Many of them are full of stories, just waiting for people to listen and show interest. Doing so will help them feel valued, while also enabling you to build relationships and connections, further establishing the sense of belonging we all need.
A family heritage vacation may not leave you with many souvenirs or Instagram-worthy posts, but it will leave you with many memories and a deeper sense of place, purpose, and potential—elements we all need in an increasingly rootless society.