Well, one week on and I really thought it was time for a RootsTech round up. I have to say that I haven’t yet had time to sample many sessions. That’s the advantage of knowing that these will still be there for me to watch gradually over the coming months. It does also mean that I have been a little lazy about working my way through my playlist. I must admit that, with 1222 presenters, many offering multiple sessions, navigating my way to what might interest or intrigue me is a bit of a challenge. I tend to rely on the recommendations of others and looking for speakers that I know, first of all. Next, I look at topics of interest and I did find it a little difficult to locate these. Finally, I always try to add something that is out of my comfort zone and/or by speakers I don’t know. I’ll be honest I usually avoid the keynote sessions, although I know others enjoy these. This year there was an international line-up but in the absence of anyone I’d heard of, I have given these a miss so far.
I started off very early on the Friday morning, joining in with Michelle Patient and Fiona Brooker of Talking Family History, who were solving brick walls. This was really enjoyable and Fiona and Michelle coped admirably with some technological challenges and the absence of their third panellist due to illness.
I had one other live session high on my list of must watches and that was the discussion led by Lynn Broderick and Jill Ball on ‘Dealing with Ethical Dilemmas in an Online World’. This should be essential watching for all family historians who engage online. Sadly, a prior commitment meant that I couldn’t listen live and it took a few days for it to become available. I was particularly pleased to hear Jill’s opening tribute to the indigenous settlers of their lands and their contribution to the history of the past. Lynn and Jill had assembled an all-star panel to tackle some crucial issues, each of which really deserved a whole session on its own. It was great to have Daniel of The Hidden Branch as part of the team. Again, there were some minor technical gremlins as the presenters tried to share their polls but these did not distract from the discussion. As a viewer of the recording, we couldn’t see the questions, maybe something that presenters should be warned of in advance so they can include a slide with the questions. A shame too that there was no access to the chat after time.
Judy Russell’s contribution to this panel on copyright is also something that many people in the genealogy community need to hear. It is alarming but sadly unsurprising, how many people aren’t adhering to the ethical or even the legal issues in this regard. Just because we can, does not mean we should. Equally unsurprising and worrying was the level of ignorance about which DNA companies use their database for law-enforcement purposes.
For some light relief, I listened to Caroline Gurney on the folk traditions of Maypole and Morris dancing. Next up was ‘Around the World with the 1921 Census’ with Jen Baldwin; great to hear one-place studies getting a mention. An excellent case-study session was Michelle Patient’s ‘Finding Frank’. I have so many more sessions to work through; I’ll comment on these when I get to them. Oh, and I am having great fun with Relatives at Rootstech – of which more another time.
It has also been great to to get positive feedback on my own sessions, which you can find here.
It has been a very long time since I wrote about the day-to-day mayhem that is my life. So, what have I been up to?
The Braund family one-name society is 40 today. In 1982, 200 people who were Braunds, or related to Braunds, gathered in North Devon and formed the Braund Society – and they said it would never last. I was heavily pregnant so didn’t attend but I was a founder member. Over the years, the society has tried to evolve with the times. We’ve had a website for some years but it was looking very tired. Much as I knew that we needed a new website, I’ll be honest, my heart sank as plans for the re-vamp progressed. I knew that the generating of content would take many hours and would be largely down to me. I was wrong, it took twice as long as that. I have to confess that, although I had a quiet (some would say not so quiet) moan about having to take this on, once I started, I really enjoyed doing it and it certainly gave my enthusiasm a boost. I climbed huge learning curves in the process. I have created and run three websites for years and have helped with others but they have all been on the WordPress platform. This was going to use Wix. I had had one brief, unhappy association with Wix in the past. It did not go well. Nonetheless, I gritted my teeth and began. I should add that I had no spare time to take this on. I don’t even burn 8pm oil, let alone midnight oil but I can do getting up early; starting work at 5.30am or 6am isn’t a hardship. By pushing this to 4.30am, gradually the website took shape. It became an obsession. I had to tear myself away from it to do all the other many things I should be doing, like a post-graduate course, writing two books, practicing for my first ever piano exam (it was a bucket list/lockdown thing and I passed—just) and the small matter of earning a living. Don’t even mention housework.
I created a website that I was really pleased with. Then it was pointed out, very nicely, by a beta tester that it looked awful on a mobile phone. As part of the aim was to bring in those who use phones for internet access, this needed addressing. Every page, yes, every flipping page, had to be re-set for a phone. I barely use a phone for making phone calls, let along scrolling webpages. I am not sure I’d even know how to get to a webpage on my phone. I only got the phone because things like banks insist on texting you security codes. I will confess to a recent foray into Pokémon Go to interact with the grandchildren but that’s it. I spent two days adding a whole series of ‘Contact us’ and ‘Read More’ buttons, they were a fiddle but looked great on a laptop. If I’d known then what I know now, I’d have set up the pages differently, with much smaller blocks of text, which would have made getting these buttons in place on the phone version easier. Hindsight and all that ……. . I persevered. Then it appeared that those wretched buttons just wouldn’t stay where they were put. I spent another whole day taking them out again.
But ’tis done and its ‘soft launch’ is today. Please do take a look and feed back on any glitches so I can iron them out. So far, the only issue seems to be that the search box doesn’t. It will search the solitary blog post but not the website itself, sigh. I am also giving a talk about the 40 years of the Braund Society on 3 May, if you are interested. You can register to listen to this here.
Then I have been endlessly playing the same four piano pieces over and over again for months, I was sitting the exam virtually, which meant that I had to record my ‘performance’. Not only did this involve the use of a dreaded mobile phone but there was the slight issue of the absence of a piano. I practice on an electric organ, not the same sound at all. Ah but Martha has a piano. Could I manage to record during a brief stay with her? Added advantage, she also knows one end of a mobile phone from another. I had several attempts at playing my pieces straight through as required. Inevitably, each time a different bit went wrong. I finally lost the will to play Down by the Salley Gardens etc anymore. The whole submitting process was a bit of a challenge but within a week, back came my indifferent result. I try to convince myself that passing was an achievement but once a perfectionist……. .
Whilst on the subject of recording, I have two presentations hidden away in the Rootstech conference that were recorded before Christmas. Living in a very dark house and doing this in December meant that I had to pick a sunny day, which were few and far between. A sunny day dawned. A day that was accompanied by incessant and very loud drilling in the neighbourhood. By the time the drilling ceased, my laptop had been recording and re-recording so long that it started to overheat and the fan came on argghhh. Despite the challenges, there’s a session on our relationship with family photographs and one on uncomfortable family history for you to listen to. Do check them out, along with hundreds of other sessions. It is all free.
I am also doing some writing. Firstly, helping to produce a history of my home parish. This has involved forays into the 1921 census, which has been fun. Then there’s been a chapter on the history of prostitution. That led to an interesting internet search history. As I also have to access images, I have now seen things I can’t unsee. A tip don’t Google ‘Victorian Prostitutes’. Just don’t, well unless you want the address of every street worker in Victoria, Australia, Victoria, Canada etc.. It is ‘nineteenth century prostitutes’ every time.
Along with my lovely group of ladies, I am still working on the biography of my grandmother. I am nine pages in and she is still being born. Plenty of opportunities for context. More ’interesting’ internet searches surrounding child-bearing practices in the 1890s – Call the Midwife it was not. Oh and Call the Midwife. Discussing Family Search’s compare a face app in the post presentation chat with Devon FHS, it was pointed out that I looked like sister Hilda (I can’t see it myself but 50% according to Family Search). The actress has an unusual name and a surname that is on my family tree. While the chat was progressing, I managed to establish that we are 4th cousins twice removed. Sometimes I feel like I have a magic wand 😊.
Despite all the appalling international news, there are things to celebrate. So here is an image from the first seaside walk of the year yesterday in wonderful sunshine. You are welcome.
Over the past few months, there has been much discussion about making the genealogical community a more all-embracing space. This covers many groups who are currently not feeling fully included, for a variety of reasons. I have been championing the cause of younger genealogists since I was one myself, a very long time ago. After all the talking and the nodding in the right places, something is finally happening. The Family History Federation have got together with the Society of Genealogists to provide the infrastructure for an online event that will be led by young genealogists across the world and showcase their undeniable talents and expertise.
The idea is to provide a platform for genealogists under the age of thirty to come together, exchange ideas and support each other. This is intended to be an international event enabling young people to contribute to shaping the future of the community. There will be a variety of sessions led by young people. These will include traditional presentations, panels, interviews, discussions and anything else that the contributors like to suggest. Sessions can be live or pre-recorded. Many young genealogists are skilled presenters but it is hoped that this will also be an opportunity for those with less experience to be involved and mentoring is being offered for anyone who is hesitant about stepping forward.
Some of the stakeholders in the genealogy community are coming along to listen to how they can play a part in creating a more inclusive environment. There are hints of possible special offers in the pipeline. We already have some interesting submissions and suggestions. The call for papers is open until 15 March, so if you have something to offer click here. Please spread the word amongst younger family historians in your circles and if you are a younger genealogist yourself, please do put forward ideas for contributions; we are excited to see what you have to offer and are happy to help if needed.
If your days as a younger genealogist, or indeed a younger anything, have passed, please do mark 7 May in the calendar and try to come along to all or part of the event, to encourage this generation of genealogists. We need to create an atmosphere of being amongst supportive friends. Booking details will be available later, don’t worry I will be sure to tell you how you can join in.
I can’t ignore another aspect of this. Incredibly, it seems that, partly due to the announcement of this event, there has been some totally inappropriate activity on social media and some young genealogists have found themselves the victims of online bullying. This is absolutely unacceptable in every way. To begin with, I cannot comprehend why anyone with any human decency and empathy would not welcome the concept of inclusivity and support. That aside, if you can’t see that this is a positive step, why not keep your thoughts to yourself instead of targeting others? Unfortunately, I was a little out of the loop when this was happening but be assured that I will not be standing on the side-lines if I see any evidence of bullying. On the one hand, I hope those responsible are reading this, so I can tell them how much I despise their deplorable behaviour (I edited out stronger comments as I don’t want to sink to their level) on the other hand I don’t want them invading my space, so if you can’t be a decent human being, please unfollow my blog. I am making no excuses for this paragraph, it is not a rant, it is far more important that that. Now back to interacting with the lovely friendly, supportive members of the genealogical community, who fortunately make up the vast majority.
Semester two is now well underway and the focus has turned from incomprehensible reading to the first assignment of this module. Writing an essay was so last term; now we are creating presentations. I have to choose a ‘thing’ and tell its story. There’s a bit more to it than that but broadly that’s it. Given that I can pick absolutely anything, the choice is not easy. It was always going to be something of family significance but I am fortunate that I have several things to choose from, so decisions had to be made.
Should it be the patchwork quilt begun by my great grand-mother in the 1880s and worked on by three further generations since? Given that each patch has its own story that would be too complex. I have a slide limit of five for this and one of those has to be the title. What about one of two Victorian christening gowns, or my mother’s wedding dress, made by hand from a parachute? As I write this, I am so tempted to change my mind! Then there’s my grandfather’s long service watch, great granny’s christening mug or one of the artefacts brought back by my great-grandfather from a tea-buying trip to China and India. Maybe once the assignment is done, I will tell all these stories too.
For now though, I have decided to tell the story of Caroline Jessie’s locket. I met Caroline Jessie, possibly only once but I can clearly remember her sitting in a chair in her parlour, alongside two of her sisters. I would have been seven or eight at the time. I have several reasons for finally opting for this particular heirloom. To begin with, Caroline Jessie has no descendants. Her closest living relatives* are seven first cousins twice removed, of which I am one. If one of us doesn’t tell her story who will? This particular item didn’t just belong to a family member, it was made by one. Caroline Jessie’s father was a silversmith and made each of his five daughters a similar locket. The fact that this is one of a collection of five, is another fascinating part of its story.
So far, I have learnt how to tell if something is silver. In this case there is no hallmark to help as it wasn’t sold on the open market, or indeed at all. One suggestion involves putting ice cubes on it, which seems a little bizarre. I am glossing over the fact that I don’t know where the silver was mined, or what processes are involved turning what comes out of the ground into the object I now have. I have got gloriously side-tracked researching the silversmiths’ company for whom Caroline Jessie’s father worked. It seems it was very well-known and co-incidentally, the founder shares a name with one of my grandsons.
I shall now be encouraging people to tell their own stories, tell the stories of their ancestors AND to tell the stories of family heirlooms. I will need several lifetimes.
* In the interests of genealogical accuracy, I should add that there could be great great half nieces and nephews in America, who might be regarded as being closer living relatives but I am not in contact with any of them and the English and American branches of the family seem to have lost contact in the 1920s.
I am now in my second trimester. No, this is not some miracle of science; semesters, or terms, are called trimesters in Ireland. Having somehow achieved pleasing grades for my first two assignments (that probably is a miracle of science), I am raring to go, This module is called ‘Thinking about Things’, or as the southern Irish call it, ‘Tinking about Tings’. It certainly makes you think. Thing Theory involves many abstract concepts and has overlaps with philosophy (I think). I made the mistake of beginning the reading with a book that is either incredibly erudite or total garbage (the jury is still out). I thought I liked long words and complex sentences but I am clearly a mere beginner. The average sentence length in this worthy tome is about forty words. Counting the length of the sentences is probably about as good as it gets. I always thought that the definition of a sentence was that it made sense. I may have to revise that definition. Although I understood most of the words individually, my brain was getting little sense out of them collectively. I did wade my way diligently through to chapter six, which was almost comprehensible but I was thankful to get to the end. This academically expensive treatise may be finding its way onto an online auction site near you shortly. I was going to treat you to a gem from this book but out of respect for the author, I have decided not to. Believe me, anyone who can persuade a publisher to take on this manuscript deserves utmost respect. Pretty much the sum total of what I got from ploughing through all 173 pages (very slowly, I really couldn’t take more than one chapter at a time) was that the essence of a thing is altered by the interaction of humans with it (possibly). Hopefully all will become clearer when tutorials start next week, having been delayed a week by COVID.
Image by Pixabay
On a positive note, I have since read some much more interesting and intelligible articles and I think I am going to enjoy this module, especially as the assignment options are very broad. I am very excited about how I might develop this and I am hoping that there will be some overlap with the rest if my life this time. I definitely do want to use this course to move outside of my comfort zone and last term’s assignments certainly did that but the more I read the more I see how what I am learning might be applied to family heirlooms and photographs. There are definite commonalities with one of the sessions, Family Photographs and a Sense of Belonging, that I have prepared for Rootstech. Incidentally, you can register for Rootstech free of charge and listen to as many sessions as you like, mine included. The event takes place from 3-5 March but recordings will be available after those dates as well.
In the meaning time, I’ve been engaged in an experimental archaeology project entitled, ‘What is it like to live in a seventeenth century cottage without the benefit of central heating?’ This was a result of the failure of the oil delivery company to be able to count. They are supposed to top up the tank every three months in winter. They last came in June and claimed that the next visit was due in February. I am still working out how that constitutes three months. Anyway, after 2½ days, the experiment was beginning to lose its appeal, despite the benefits of the wood-burner. Fortunately, the cavalry arrived today and I am now cosy again.
The #GenealogyForAll debate has turned to genealogical conferences and the fact that there are barriers to accessing most of these. Although the primary obstacle is deemed to be financial, this is not the only issue. Let us look first at cost. I have been instrumental in organising many family history events, both day conferences and residential conferences. I have also been heavily involved in the provision of online events. None of the events that I have helped to put on have intended to make a profit, merely to break even. Having been in circumstances where my ability to fund my family history research was severely limited, I have always been an advocate of keeping costs to participants as low as possible.
So what costs money? Let’s look at a weekend face-to-face conference. Accommodation is the biggest outlay. Cost is impacted on by the geographical convenience of the location and the facilities provided. A reasonable standard of food and accommodation is expected and the conference facilities need to be suitable, with good AV and wifi connections. A more recent consideration might be the ability to live stream the proceedings. All this is extremely costly and these charges are set to increase as inflation seems to be rapidly spiralling ever upwards at the moment. It would certainly not be unusual to be charged a four-figure daily sum for the hire of conference facilities in a central location and food and accommodation would be on top of that. More minor items on the conference organisers’ budget might include the printing of conference programmes, advertising and perhaps the provision of conference give-aways. Even the cost of conference badges has to be considered. If the conference is a commercial undertaking, which is rare in the genealogical world, there a profit margin will be added.
You may notice that the major omission in the previous paragraph is the cost of speakers. I declare an interest here. I am a speaker. When I first started teaching family history in the 1980s, when money was extremely limited in my household, I planned that what I earned would pay for the cost of my own research. I speak because I enjoy it and because I want to share my expertise but it is also a major part of the way in which I support myself. I consider that I give a professional service and that I and others like me, should receive financial recompense for this. It is a job. The fact that I happen to enjoy my job and that it overlaps with my hobby is irrelevant. For more than forty years I have done and continue to do, a great deal for the genealogical community on a voluntary basis but if I am asked to give a talk I would normally and justifiably, expect to be paid. I do occasionally speak for free for charities that I support, or for causes that I believe in and of course any talks I give for societies of which I am a trustee have to be delivered without payment.
I once organised a residential conference and a potential attendee asked if they could attend for free if they didn’t stay and didn’t want any meals; all they wanted was to listen to the talks. I gently explained that meals and accommodation were not the only costs and that speakers’ fees and travelling expenses were a significant part of the conference fee that we were charging. On that occasion, we were offering anyone who volunteered to help chair or steward a session, free attendance at that particular lecture and this is what I offered. I absolutely believe that speakers should be properly paid and not just because I am one. Like many aspects of the creative industries, working for ‘the exposure’ is not something that should be expected or tolerated. I cannot pay my bills with exposures. Some speakers, myself included, will occasionally offer to be paid in kind, giving a talk in exchange for free attendance at the remaining lectures that form the event but this should not be expected nor regarded as the norm.
Sometimes, people look at a speaker’s charges and the reaction is, ‘that’s a lot for an hour’s work’. Giving a talk of an hour’s duration is absolutely not an hour’s work. The talk has to be researched and the presentation put together, which could easily take several days. A good speaker will always run through a talk beforehand, every time that they give it. Handouts have to be checked to ensure that information is current and links are not broken. There is also the time taken to travel to a conference to be taken into consideration.
Most genealogy speakers are in fact quite poorly paid compared to speakers in other fields. I was once invited to join a list of public speakers who covered a full range of topics. I was told that I was charging far too little, I wouldn’t be taken seriously if that was all I asked for and that I needed to make my fee at least twice as much. I explained that I knew my market and the sum suggested would be prohibitive for my potential audience. I was put on that list (now discontinued) at my requested rate and only ever got one speaker request as a result.
Online conferences can often be staged with fewer overheads. Here an element of the cost is the platform through which the conference is delivered. This can be achieved via something like Zoom, relatively cheaply but if you require anything more sophisticated, such as you might expect at major events, then the web-development charges are significant. Even at a simple online event, there are still speaker fees to be paid, although you save on travel costs.
I know that the costs of conference attendance are prohibitive for many. By the time you add on travel to a venue, the cost of a weekend face-to-face conference is approaching that of a week’s package holiday to a foreign destination for a UK resident. One way to help to make these events more affordable, is to offer a day delegate rate. This is an option that I often go for, staying in a touring caravan to reduce the expense. It does mean that I miss out on some of the social experience but at least I can attend. I am fortunate, this is affordable for me but it won’t be for others. The ‘going’ day attendee rate at genealogy conferences seems to be about £75. Yes, this includes lunch but it is still far more than many can justify.
Of course, we should accept that having a hobby costs money and that little in life is free but that doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t take steps to mitigate matters for those whose participation is limited by the cost of events.
So what is the solution? I am not sure that I know. Some organisations have the wherewithal to provide free virtual conferences, of which RootsTech in March is a prime example and incidentally well worth registering for. Anyone who has ever complained that conferences are too expensive should take the opportunity to attend this one. You have access to the presentations long after the duration of the event. In general though, this is not a viable economic model. Although many genealogical societies are charities, it does not mean that they can afford to stage major events at no charge to participants. What most societies do do, is offer a comprehensive programme of lectures to members, many of which are now presented online. A year’s membership fee of £20 or less might be much less prohibitive than a conference fee and of course society membership offers far more benefits than just the lecture programme. Some societies allow non-members to attend their lectures without charge. It is definitely worth looking at the societies that cover your areas of interest to see if this is the case.
Perhaps an option might be sponsorship, although sponsorship is harder to come by than it used to be and securing it is a time-consuming and thankless task. This could be sponsorship of a whole conference, a lecture, or perhaps sponsorship of an attendee. Maybe local societies could offer a number of free places at an otherwise paid for event, to those who find cost a barrier. How those free places were allocated would be up to the event organiser.
Cost is not the only impediment. Geographical access to face-to-face events is an issue. Caring responsibilities also prevent people from attending, as does disability access. On balance, it seems that there are fewer barriers to participating in an online event but for some the availability of adequate wifi, or the lack of a device will prevent them joining in. Another barrier, which is a whole topic in itself, is how welcoming these events are. There are those who find attending such events a social challenge, for a variety of reasons. We need to make potential attendees feel comfortable about being part of an event.
It will never be perfect. Nothing can ever be fully accessible to all in every respect. There will always be events that are inaccessible. Nonetheless, we can and should do what we can to be more inclusive, to offer a variety, so that there may be something that suits and to open up the opportunity to attend genealogy events to as many people as possible.
It is hardly news that this week the genealogy community, or at least those who have C20th English and Welsh ancestry, have been revelling in the release of the 1921 census. I thought I’d share a few of my initial thoughts. Before I do, I can’t ignore the debate that has roused passions on both sides and that is the issue of the charges for access. This is the sort of post that you really need to read to the end, or at least part way, to understand the argument. I’ll tell you when you can stop!
FindmyPast won the contract to undertake the not inconsiderable task of digitising the records, so that those of us who can read this can potentially view these from the comfort of our own homes. In order to recoup the costs of digitisation, transcribing and indexing, there is currently a charge for access. Without indexing and transcribing, you would have to guess where your ancestor was living and work your way through the district page by page in the hope of finding them. Anyone who researched in the 1970s and 1980s can vouch for how long this took and how often it was unsuccessful because great granny wasn’t where you expected her to be. In recent decades, we have come to expect that we will have the benefit of online countrywide indexes, transcription errors notwithstanding.
It is important to make it clear that, contrary to popular opinion, searching the 1921 census index is free. You do NOT need a FindmyPast subscription for this. So, there is some limited work you can do without any cost. Once you have located someone in the index, there is a charge for each transcription or image of a page that is viewed. These cost £2.50 and £3.50 respectively, although those with the higher level of FindmyPast subscription get a 10% discount. If this follows the pattern of previous dataset releases, after a period of months, accessing the 1921 census will be absorbed into the FindmyPast subscription charge and when the exclusivity period expires, it will be available on other subscription platforms as well.
Unlike previous releases, this time, there has been a significant amount of disquiet regarding charging to view a public document. So where do I stand on this? First some facts. To those who say, ‘but it is volunteers who do the transcribing’, not in this case. The 1921 census has not been digitised, transcribed or indexed by volunteers. It is a project on a massive scale and the logistics of trying to make it available on a countrywide basis by voluntary effort would have been close to insurmountable. I’ve been around long enough to remember the work required producing indexes to the 1851 and 1881 censuses. In any case, most family history societies who undertake voluntary transcribing projects charge for access to these in some way, either by a direct charge, or by making them available only to those who pay the society’s subscription. This provides valuable funds that are ploughed back, to the benefit of family historians.
To those who say, ‘1921 census access should be free’, in some ways it is. There is no charge to view if you have access to The National Archives, Manchester Central Library or the National Library of Wales. The charge is not for access to the record itself but to the digitised images, so in effect the payment is for the convenience of home viewing. Of course, visiting one of the free access points is not possible, practical or affordable for many. Travel to London, Manchester or Aberystwyth for me would involve a two-night stay and with travel costs would be the same as downloading approximately 75 1921 images, assuming I stayed in the caravan. I will not be doing this but I am fortunate, my financial position, my health, my geographical location and my home responsibilities mean that I could visit one of these centres if I chose to. For many that is not an option.
One side of the argument is that we should accept that digitisation is not something that can be achieved for free, the heavy financial investment has to be recouped and the 1921 census is now available to anyone with internet access, or who can get internet access at a library, for the cost of a good cup of coffee or a pint of beer per image. The #FreetheCensus counter argument is that, as a public document, the 1921 census should be freely available to the public and that the current charges are prohibitive for some and thus counter to the #GenealogyforAll ethos.
Although I am better placed now, I began my family history at a time when financial pressures impinged heavily on my ability to research as I would have wished. That doesn’t make it okay, I am just saying that I understand. I am passionate about making family history accessible to as many people as possible, be the barriers financial, geographical, age related, due to a disability, or anything else you can name but there is a BUT. My own view is that there will always be a cost implication associated with researching your family history. If you think you don’t spend anything, think again. At a minimum, you will be paying for internet access or for your phone contract and for the electricity to run and charge these devices. Even if you don’t use technology and you interview granny who lives with you (no travel costs), you need to purchase a writing implement and something to write on. If you can read this, you are already at an advantage over others because you can access the internet, with all that has to offer to help you in your research. In an ideal world it would be an equal playing field and it would all be free, I really wish it was but economic forces just don’t work that way. The best we can do is to try to level that playing field as much as possible, to work together to help and support each other and to keep costs as low as we can.
I am mindful that there are those who are, at the moment, excluded from viewing the 1921 census because of the charge and in one sense I am one of them. I have wider interests than my own immediate family. I would love to be able to access the returns for the communities for which I conduct one place-studies (all four places!) and for all those in my one-name study. I want to look at the entries for unrelated people whose lives impinged on those of my family. I certainly can’t afford to do all this within my family history budget. So, I agree, this is not #GenealogyforAll but I would add one word – yet. It is very difficult to be patient when genealogy social media is full of ‘look what I found in the 1921 census’ but patience is what is required. In time, no time-scale has been announced but my bet (based on zero insider-knowledge) is on six months, access will become part of a FindmyPast subscription and therefore freely accessible via library subscriptions. For those whose libraries only have Ancestry access, the wait will be longer; I believe about three years.
What we have is not ideal and I’ll admit to a sharp intake of breath, coupled with disappointment, when the charges were announced. The current access does allow those whose barrier is geography, disability or family responsibility to do their research and that is a sizeable community, who in the past might have been excluded. In time, those for whom the barrier is financial will also be included. I wish that was now, I really do but I just don’t see how online, countrywide, transcribed and indexed access could be achieved without cost. It seems fairest to recoup that cost from those who are interested in seeing the records. I suppose an alternative would be for this to be government funded and make all taxpayers contribute. Despite what family historians might think, the general public would hardly see this as priority when the country is struggling to fund health and social care and education. The bottom line is, in an unfair and unideal world, whilst not fully inclusive, this is as good as we could hope for. If that makes me sound as if I am resigned to the inevitable and not ready to fight for greater inclusivity, that couldn’t be further from the case. Passion for change does have to be tempered with practicality and at least a small dose of realism. You can stop reading now, unless you want to know what I’ve been up to within my limited 1921 download budget.
Now to the post I was actually going to write. In the three days of 1921 census access, I have only had time for a brief play, having listened to the world’s first live official FindmyPast presentation on using the census at 7am on Friday morning! I do recommend doing some background work before leaping in. The help pages and various videos and blogs that are available, really are worth reading. Look out for a FindmyPast presentation from your local family history society, many will be hosting these in the coming weeks. I made a list of all my direct ancestors who were alive in 1921. There were ten: one parent, four grandparents and five great grandparents. I wasn’t expecting any amazing breakthroughs from the 1921 census, as I already have full birth, marriage and death details for all of these ancestors but I was interested in the additional detail.
I belong to a lovely online group of genealogy friends and we have decided to begin the year by gathering the life stories of one of our grandmothers, so ‘Granny’ was first on the list and easily found in the index, together with her mother and brother. I purchased the image and brought up the filmstrip allowing me to access, for no additional charge, the ‘extra materials’, which included the page providing the address and a useful map. It is a shame that the useful ‘enumerator’s book lists’ from 1911 were destroyed in 1921. Of particular interest to me was the name of the employer, in Granny’s case ‘J. Gardner & co. wholesale caterer etc.’, where she worked as a clerk. The address of the employer, Leadenhall Market, was also given. This confirmed my mother’s memory that Granny had worked for ‘John Gardner & co. at Smithfield’ – wrong market mum but close! The more specific detail has allowed me to identify this company, subsequently taken over by Trust House Forte. The family photograph collection includes pictures of Granny with colleagues named ‘Reidy’ and ‘Carlie’. I can freely search the 1921 census by employer using the advanced search. This brought up 340 entries of people living in London, Middlesex, Surrey or Kent who stated there employer to be J Gardner. Without purchasing the images, it was difficult to be certain the employer was the same J Gardner but I did find a twenty-two year old Elizabeth Reid on the list, who is a candidate for ‘Reidy’. I tried Car* in the first and last name boxes but there were no likely entries for ‘Carlie’, who in any case may not still have been working there in 1921.
Reidy and Carlie
Next up, Granny’s future husband. With a name like Frederick Smith, a little more care was needed before parting with cash. Hoping that he was still with his parents, I by-passed Frederick Smith and tried great grandad instead as he had more unusual forenames and fortunately he was listed with both of them. I was able to hover over the transcription button in the index to check who else was in the household before purchasing the image. That ticked off Herbert Havet Smith, his wife and grandad Fred. The surprise here was that they had already left London and were living in Southend-on-Sea, with grandad commuting to his office in London. Again, it was an employer I recognised; my mother followed in her father’s footsteps and was still working part time from home for the company in the early 1960s.
My father, his parents and two brothers, with the benefit of an unusual name, were also easily found. There are only two people, of any age, with my father’s name in the 1921 census. Co-incidentally the other lived a few hundred yards from my home address, more than 250 miles away from my father. I knew that my father grew up in poverty but it was still a shock to see all five of them living in just two rooms.
Two more great grandparents to find. John Hogg in Morpeth was no trouble, He was living with his ‘widowed’ (she was never married) sister, her adult son and two male lodgers, in three rooms. I can’t imagine what the sleeping arrangements would have been. The final great-grandparent was trickier. In the end I found her by searching for her son. Inexplicably searching for Fanny Thomasine, WITH the variants box ticked, did not bring her up; she had been mis-transcribed as Fanny Homasine. Her writing was pretty awful – maybe I can claim it is genetic! In fairness to great granny, the census was taken just a week before she died; she was described as ‘unable to work’.
I have decided that my children’s direct ancestors can wait until the 1921 census forms part of my subscription, so five households was my limit. I would have paid for great great aunt Fanny if I could have found her. She was in the county asylum, which I also failed to find. I did have a quick look at my home village in the index, using the place search. There do seem to have been some large scale garbling of the house names in my parish. In addition, somehow the parish seems to have become attached to the neighbouring one, in a run-together version of the names. There will be some wholesale correction sending when I can access these via my subscription. I have heard others report that there are some weird and wonderful place name errors, with towns being ascribed to incorrect counties but I gather that this is being worked on.
So overall a positive experience and I am happy to wait for more extensive access. When it really will be the 1921 census for all.
It has been all go on the Experimental Archaeology front. Assignment two is pretty much done. It was already way too long when I came across a key article. Said article turned out to be 247 pages of great stuff – now, what to cut out?
I thought I’d grabbed a bargain and got a really interesting sounding book, which usually retails for £180+, for £30. You know that ‘If it sounds too good to be true …..’ thing? Sadly, when it arrived I realised that instead of the hugely expensive Handbook of Sensory Archaeology, I had inadvertently ordered a Handbook of Collective Intentionality – not a clue – Sensory Archaeology was going to be challenging enough. If anyone wants to find out about Collective Intentionality there will be a copy for sale on an internet auction site near you shortly.
The real excitement though is that I skipped this week’s lecture to take part in some experiential, if not experimental, archaeology. A fisherman (and boat restorer) of my acquaintance and I set off at silly o’clock to watch the sunrise over Bodmin Moor and drive to the National Maritime Museum in Falmouth for a Ghost Ship Building workshop. Regular readers will know that I’ve been steering clear of peopley places. This is only the fourth time I’ve been indoors with a static group of people apart from my immediate family since February 2020 but it was so worth it. I was also taking comfort from the fact that there were only eleven mask-wearing people in the room and I am probably as protected as I will ever be, having just been boostered.
The hugely talented Gail McGarva, who was conducting the Disappearing Lines workshop, builds traditional working boats, to try to preserve historic local boat-building styles. She uses the term ‘daughter ships’, rather than replicas, as they represent a new generation of the endangered boats. I am familiar with the Clovelly Picarooners and the neighbouring Bucks Ledge Boats, both of which were designed to suit the beach from which they were worked. The ghost ship we were to build was based on the Dorset Lerret, a beamy boat, ideal for working on the pebbles of Chesil Beach.
The ‘one I made earlier’ looked pretty simple, surely this wasn’t going to take six hours? Oh it so was. First, we steamed and bent oak strips and laid them in place in a pre-prepared frame. I learned that making even quite thin strips of wood do what you want them to is not easy. Then came the copper riveting. This involved my partner in crime holding the oak strips steady and me drilling very close to his fingers. I waited until afterwards to tell him I’d never used an electric drill before. I am not sure why; spending most of my life in all female households, I’ve done DIY since I was a child but only ever with a hand drill.
Next, time to insert the rivets. There were only thirteen of them, plus the few that had to be redone because they bent but each one involved plenty of hammering. You have to drive through the rivet and then seal it with a series of taps. This was all fine at the time but two days later my arm still feels like it has just had a Covid vaccination. I have decided against a change of career. I do not want to be a riveter and historically, I can see that the repetitive strain and the noise would have been serious occupational hazards. It is inciteful to try these things to gain a better understanding of what is involved.
In between the riveting there was plenty of adjusting, to create pleasing lines. At one stage I was channelling my Norfolk ancestry and my gunnels developed what is apparently known as a Yarmouth Hump. I managed to minimise this and I am pleased with my resulting ghost ship, although I am not quite sure what I am going to do with it. All in all, this rates right up there with the best things I’ve done this year.
I would like to thank all those who have now listened to my Really Useful Show presentation about making the family history world welcoming for all. There was a mammoth audience at the live presentation and plenty of people have tuned in since. I think you have one more day to catch the recording, if you have a Really Useful Show ticket. The opportunity for discussion afterwards was limited, so there will be an open forum on this topic on Saturday 27th November at 10.30am UK time. I know this isn’t great for those of you in North America but we didn’t want to leave this too long and I don’t have a single evening or weekend afternoon free until mid-December. I am in the midst of a presentations marathon, at one point I did four in twenty-six hours and I am currently running at twelve a week. I do also have other things in my diary! The good news is, that other ‘next generation’ debates are being held and I have been asked to give this presentation again on two futher occasions. Saturday will be about exchanging ideas, not about me talking. If you want to come along, just contact me via the box on the Home Page for the link. If you are not able to listen to the original presentation, then you might like to look at the handout instead.
Having thought that I had had a record audience for the Really Useful Show, I topped that this week when a Norfolk FHS meeting, at which I was speaking, also had Devon FHS attendees. A whopping 385 people Zoomed in!
This week also brought the demise of a memory stick. Even the magicians at my local computer shop have failed to extract data from it. Yes, it is backed up elsewhere but I was due to back up again, so there are recent files that will be lost and gone for ever. I do put some things in the cloud but not everything. Now I’m about to take a deep breath and see how much I can retrieve from elsewhere.
In other news, I am not sure if I should congratulate a large electrical store near pretty much everyone or not. After three years and eleven months and numerous letters, emails and social media rants, I have finally received a gift card with a refund to which I was entitled. Mind you, I haven’t tried to spend it yet (there may only be 2p on it) and actually I am pretty reluctant to darken their doors again but fingers crossed that this is finally resolved.
In other exciting news, I have been approached to write another family history text book. This won’t be happening until my course is over but hoping for a 2023 publication date.
And just because no pictures go with this post, here is a gratuitous sunrise for you.
As part of the Family History Federation’s Really Useful Show tonight, 12 November, I will be giving a talk on the crucial topic ‘Genealogy: the Next Generation’. This is a live only talk, which will take place at 7.30pm. I set out some of my thoughts on this topic in a previous post and I would encourage you to take a look at this. I had intended that today’s session would be a short presentation, followed by a discussion but unfortunately, the show platform does not lend itself to the level of discussion that this topic deserves. There is also a limited number of places, so some potential attendees may be disappointed. The Friday evening will offer some thoughts and suggestions on the topic, as well as providing some discussion points. The handout for the topic is here. To provide the opportunity for open discussion, there will be a Zoom meeting on this important topic, on Saturday 27th November at 10.30am GMT. This meeting will have the potential for 500 attendees; the discussion will be in small groups. To be sent the log in details for the 27th November meeting, please contact me using the contact box on the home page.
