WREN Stories: My ancestry and me

Occupational Therapist, Dympna Edwin talks about her journey of discovery as she learnt more about both black history and her own heritage.

Last year I embarked on something amazing, something that I had been thinking about for a number of years. I got myself an Ancestry DNA Testing Kit!

I was born and grew up in Huddersfield. My parents are from Carriacou, a small island north of Grenada in the Caribbean. In the 1950s and 60s they, along with thousands of young people, were invited to this ‘mother country’ to fill the labour shortages that had arisen.

My father worked in the textile industry and studied English and Photography in his spare time.  My mother managed the family and home. On reflection, in what was a racially divided Britain at the time, my childhood was pretty uneventful. As one of five children close in ages I was always part of a group so I rarely felt intimidated. However, this certainly changed for me when I left the family unit.

The year was 1980 and I left home to study Occupational Therapy in the city of York. I was the only black student on the campus. I saw few black or brown people around the city and I felt desperately alone and unhappy. To make matters worse, regular racist name-calling and chants became part of my daily experience. In fact, as I write this blog, I find myself recalling a couple of frightening incidents and I think to myself …did that really happen?

By the end of the first year I was ready to leave but I didn’t. I persevered, supported by my family, a developing Christian faith, a supportive Church community, and a Jamaican woman I met in York one sunny afternoon. She quickly became my mentor, confidante and friend.

When the academic year was over, my mum was able to return to Carriacou for the first time since she’d arrived in Britain in 1960 and I was thrilled to go with her. After my experiences in York I needed to find a place of peace and belonging, and initially I did. The first thing I noticed, other than the baking heat, was that people looked like me. I felt at home and this was further enhanced when an elderly brown skinned woman looked up at me and enquired “whose child is you? Is you papa son’s granddaughter? “I was in heaven.

The following day we visited my mother’s side of the family with whom we were closest to in England. We had travelled to the part of the island where the Europeans had settled. A small, elderly woman came running out to my mum and I was taken aback! Although I knew my mum’s family was mixed-heritage, I did not expect to see a wrinkled, Caucasian woman, her face drenched with tears embracing my mother. When they paused for breath, this elderly cousin looked up and saw me.  Addressing my mum she exclaimed “Monika, who dat little black child?” I was six feet tall.

It was not so much of what she said, but how she said it! My mouth dropped open. For a moment, I was back in York, feeling shocked and embarrassed.

From that day I made it my goal to increase my knowledge and learn more about the slave trade from the perspective of Africa and the barbaric dehumanisation and enslavement of its people for over 4 centuries by Britain and Europe. I discovered that the native inhabitants of the Caribbean were exterminated and replaced by enslaved Africans to toil in the plantations for the greed and economic prosperity of Britain and Europe. Treated as worse than animals, African men, women and children were brutalised and murdered. I recognised the truth that had been hidden in my history lessons. The truth that Britain as we know it, was financed and shaped by the colonisation and the enslavement of African people.

The more I learnt the angrier I became, the more I saw the sadder I felt. The more I experienced the more empowered I became to ensure that these atrocities would not overwhelm or destroy my integrity and faith. Nearly 40 years on I have come to understand and accept that the histories of Africa and Europe are painfully intertwined. The recent riots in the UK sparked off by the murder of George Floyd in the USA by a white police officer, demonstrates that the legacy of slavery remains.

Last year I did something amazing and got an Ancestry DNA Testing Kit and sent it off. Two weeks later I read the results on my mobile phone with delight

Dympna Edwin, Lesser Antilles African Caribbean, 69% African, 31% European. Of course I celebrated! Finally, the curiosity I had held for years about the ethnic make-up of my own family and myself was answered. I celebrated with my green-eyed daughter and my brown-eyed son!

Through understanding, forgiveness, and love for my family, I have come to embrace both parts of my genealogy. At the end of the day I believe that as humans we have the capacity to do good and evil. Whatever we choose to do, the truth in time always comes to light and there will always consequences to face, whether that be by the present or future generations.  Once we appreciate and respect that we are equal beings with similar desires and goals, unique skills and talents and vulnerabilities and strengths, this world will be a safer, kinder and fairer place.