I spit in the little tube and sent it off to Ancestry.com DNA. I decided to thoroughly explore my ancestors to satisfy my curiosity and also to enrich my understanding of my heritage and the stories I felt compelled to tell. Well, it came back with an unexpected percentage of OTHER. Other? What the heck was other?
Six percent West Asia, including Caucus States, Armenia, Iran, Syria, Turkey, Yemen, Isreal. Two percent South Asia including Pakistan, Sri Lanka, India, Nepal. Two Percent North Africa including Morocco, Western Sahara, Algeria, Libya.
I look at this and realize we are all connected in ways we have never realized. The blood and cultures that run through us have been carried through centuries. We may appear one way on the outside but the imprint of our genetics upon our essences finds ways to carry forth. The stories we tell have their roots in many cultures, to be repeated with the flavor and survival persistence necessary for the geographic and decade.
How can we look upon others and say their stories do not count? That they should not be able to live in a new society. That who they have developed into during this generation does not count.
We all count. Our stories are what verifies that.
We are one. We belong to all. We all need to spit in a little tube to discover who we have the ability to remember.
Through story.
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