My #NotAtRootsTech Week

 

Well, it's been a week. Amend that: not only was it a week, but it was a week when I wasn't even a stay-at-home #NotAtRootsTech participant.

There are a few reasons for that. To start with, the past week has been rough. Along with a co-instructor, I've begun a new, four-part genealogy class in person—something I've long felt the need to do. Doing stuff in person takes time, effort, travel, and other logistics. No wonder people prefer the convenience of Zooming in—but I firmly believe we miss something in the bargain.

Add to that, with beautiful spring weather comes a long-awaited construction project for our home, held at bay during the rainy weather last month. Only problem: those convenient virtual meetings used to conduct genealogy society business during the week also find a way to share the hammering, sawing, and drilling occurring outside my now-demolished living room wall. If I knew this was going to be the week the demo actually happened, perhaps I would have made this my week to travel to RootsTech in person.

Not to worry; I can always go back and watch the recordings. Sure, I'll miss out on the great sales exploding out of the exhibit hall, even for those #NotAtRootsTech. But perhaps some time later in the year will be more peaceful—or at least conducive to watching reruns of RootsTech sessions.

Who am I kidding here? Truth be told, what I was doing in my "spare" time was hyper-fixating on my latest project: examining all those Rainey DNA matches to see who their matches might have been, and whether those shared matches might tie me in to the other branches of Thomas Firth Rainey's family tree.

And I think, after several iterations of that process—did I mention the word "tedious"?—I may have found one new connection. I'll keep at it next week, as well. But it's encouraging to find a match which may well lead me to other connections to my third great-grandfather in this Rainey line. I need some wiggle room to explore his possible extended family.

Less Than a Week

 

Less than a week away, the first sessions of RootsTech 2026 will open the most-anticipated genealogy event of the year. While it may be too late to purchase tickets and fly to Salt Lake City to attend in person, the online option is free to attend, and it's not too late to choose your preferred classes.

Sessions of this international conference begin on the afternoon of Wednesday, March 4, and run nearly around the clock through a full day that Saturday—and even into the wee hours of Sunday, March 8, for the benefit of those viewers who live halfway around the world.

Setting up a watch schedule is easy on the RootsTech scheduler. The hardest part, perhaps, might be assembling a workable watch list; there are so many choices. No matter; those sessions which have been recorded will be available for you to watch at your leisure for months to come. The real trick may just be remembering to watch all the goodies you've selected for yourself from this genealogy candy shoppe.

Since I've recently been wrestling with my Polish ancestry, I was glad to see there were class selections for that particular subject. But if Polish is not your family's story, there are other possibilities to view: French, German, or Italian for those of European heritage, for instance. But the picture expands so much farther than that. There are several sessions on researching Chinese or Japanese roots. Classes of interest to those seeking their African, Jewish, or Native American roots mingle with the forward-thinking meetings involving emerging technologies, such as AI use for genealogy.

Some of the most convenient resources we use today in our search for the history of our ancestors were first introduced to researchers at past RootsTech conferences. This is the place to discover the latest developments in that quest to tap into our ancestors' past, as well as hone our researching skills and broaden our knowledge base in the process. 

While nothing can replace the excitement of attending RootsTech in person at the Salt Palace, the online experience does what it can to include viewers in the full RootsTech experience. Classes provide a chat channel specific to each session's topic. You can opt in to search for Relatives at RootsTech. There's even an Online Expo Hall Tour. 

Who knows? At RootsTech, you might discover your latest can't-live-without-this research tool—or better yet, find a cousin to collaborate with on that mutual brick-wall ancestor.

Time to Make Choices

 

An email I received midweek reminded me: it's time to make my choices about the upcoming RootsTech conference. Yes, I know it doesn't begin until March 6 this year, but with 113 online workshops to choose from over the three full days of the event, this sounds like an opportunity well worth some advanced consideration.

Just looking over the RootsTech calendar of online events, I can see there are several sessions focused on technology—and especially the idea of integrating the use of artificial intelligence in genealogical research. Sessions on using DNA testing figure somewhat prominently in the workshop offerings—including a talk by now-retired Family Tree DNA founder, Bennett Greenspan, called "Bennett's Y-Chromosomal Time Machine."

Because of the worldwide focus of the organizers of RootsTech, it's no surprise to find several workshops focused on ethnic research. Everything from several sessions on addressing the many challenges of African-American research or Jewish genealogy to exploring Native American research can be found on the schedule. But that's not all. There are sessions on exploring Central and South American roots, Chinese ancestry, as well as the expected European origins such as Danish, Norwegian, Scottish, Irish, and French.

I was particularly encouraged to see a couple sessions being offered on Polish research, by fellow genealogy blogger Julie Szczepankiewicz of "From Shepherds and Shoemakers." It isn't often that I find any workshops on that topic in general conferences, despite the United States including a sizable Polish diaspora. Since Polish research figures prominently in my goals for my Twelve Most Wanted each year, I'd like to see more of such training made available.

Besides Polish research, another annual focus for me involves following my father-in-law's Irish ancestors through Canada to the U.S. In one particularly tricky branch of his family, I have been partnering with two Canadian researchers who are also interested in this same set of Irish surnames. We have lately been looking at emigration schemes from Ireland to Canada, some of them pre-famine, and for that I was delighted to find a RootsTech offering for this year on that very topic: American Ancestors' Melanie McComb discussing "Escaping the Famine: Exploring Irish Settlements in Canada."

Finally, for my mission to continue sharing family stories—especially those difficult-to-face episodes in our families' past—I found genea-blogger Laura Hedgecock's session, "Navigating Sensitive Topics," to be essential for those of us who need to put "difficult chapters of the family's history" into writing.

There is, of course, no way I could absorb each one of these 113 sessions offered at this year's RootsTech in a week's sitting. No problem, though: many workshops will be available on-demand for up to three years after the conference's close. Scheduling my watch list not only to plan my attendance but for later viewing will probably be a wise move, just in case last-minute Life happens. It's good that room for flexibility has been scheduled into the choices for the RootsTech plan, too.  

The Power of Remembering

 

Recently, the RootsTech blog heralded the launch of a new program in preparation for their upcoming event next February 29 through March 2 in Salt Lake City. The blog post, called "The Power of Remembering and Being Remembered," includes a video demonstrating the strength of such a process—especially how it felt for "everyday" individuals to be remembered by those most important to them.

Emphasizing that "Your Story is Worth Remembering," the RootsTech team slated "Remembering" as their theme for next spring's conference, a fitting choice. Further, they are encouraging all of us—around the world, as only an organization like that can do—to participate by creating our own videos with that same purpose. Their social media challenge includes your chance to share as well—and even use the RootsTech audio clip, "Out of Time," if you want to participate by posting your own version of this "Remembering" meme.

As I look back on my own dad's career years—and remember several of the others who were part of that same world—I can safely say I've been influenced as I now realize all there was to remember about his life. Though he never acted as if he were the one who accomplished all he did, it is inspiring to learn his story, even after all these years.

Watching the RootsTech video, I can see why the producers say there is power in being remembered. But I also think there is a great deal of power in the other part of their title—the power of remembering. As we go through the process of learning all there is to learn about our relatives and ancestors, it does something to us, as well.

As we learn about these people important to our own life, and realize that a small part of them is actually flowing through us as well, it can inspire us and shape us, separate and apart from our own life trajectory. Knowing we now know their story is a meta-knowledge beyond just the facts of knowing the story. To know that we know is the power of remembering.

The first part—to know—is to impart upon the other the recognition that they are remembered. That is powerful in its own right—for our relative. More than that, to step back and realize that we know that we know—the power of remembering—returns that gift back upon ourselves. It makes us different, it changes us, to know that we know our family's story, for the story of those others now becomes our story, too. And that can change us. 

R@RT: A Weekend Divertissement

 

Before you know it, the time will come for yet another RootsTech extravaganza. Don't count on me being in Salt Lake City after this weekend; too big a crowd for me. I'll watch from my own cozy hideaway.

Even though the big event doesn't occur for another five days (it begins March 2), there are a few preparatory items to take care of beforehand. First, of course, is to register to attend online. Then, to scope out the online offerings and plan which ones to attend right away and which can't-miss opportunities can be viewed later.

Top of my list, once I've taken care of those other details, is to check out this year's Relatives at RootsTech—or, for a short take on that name, R@RT. Yes, I know, I know: apps like that are only as good as the input which fuels the fun connections. But I'll keep an eye on those false matches, I promise.

Last year, I had a chance to connect with a McClellan cousin via R@RT, right before my trip back to Florida to show my sister the old family home there. It was fun to connect with this distant cousin. After all, we may have thousands of distant cousins, thanks to all the ancestors we've researched, but that doesn't mean they all share our deep enthusiasm about genealogy. Finding a cousin via R@RT means using the app to sift through all those other relatives in our tree to find the ones who share our love of family history.

This year, my cousin count has improved. I'm not necessarily keen on how many cousins are on my readout for R@RT. More important to me is finding closer cousins. Fifth or sixth cousins may be mildly interesting, but I much prefer to find those third or fourth cousins.

Why? One simple reason: DNA testing. Yep, I'm looking for genealogical cousins who also show up as genetic cousin matches at any of the places where I've tested—or, who would be willing to take a DNA test. While it may be possible to find a fifth or sixth cousin match through DNA, it is highly unlikely to detect such matches. The third cousin level is far more reliable, and fourth cousins can come shining through fairly reliably, as well. Those are the cousins I want to message so we can keep in contact. And since the readout for participants in R@RT is only available for about one month, it's time to get busy now.

Since the R@RT system allows participants to search their readout by different keys—location, specific ancestor, or family line—I tried looking specifically for Broyles and Taliaferro cousins. After all, those are the two lines I've been researching this year. It turns out there are two fourth cousins who have those surnames in their ancestry—not many, agreed, but maybe two fellow researchers who are interested in delving into our mutual lines. Collaboration can be a great way to tackle research problems.

I've still got a few more days this month to devote to my Taliaferro research, but for this weekend, time invested in sorting the R@RT cousins—and getting in touch with family I didn't know I had—will be well worth the effort.  

No N G S Conference For me

 

Welcome to Tuesday, the start of the long-awaited, can't-wait-to-see-everybody-again, face-to-face annual conference of the National Genealogical Society. It's been a long three years since that event last convened, and a lot of hard work has gone into producing what organizers hope will be a best-ever lineup of speakers and events.

But then, there's Covid. I can't really say this is a post-pandemic conference, because technically, that disease will likely always be with us from this point onward. So precautions have been put into place—requirements far more stringent than the man-on-the-street in downtown Sacramento might be expected to follow. Including signing an agreement, upon registration, promising not to show up if exhibiting symptoms.

Guess who came down with symptoms?

Granted, I'm only an easy commute's drive away from Sacramento, so I'm not out airfare and hotel expenses. Nonetheless, I'm disappointed. My main focus was to attend the pre-conference "Focus on Societies" which previously was a feature of the now-merged Federation of Genealogical Societies. In addition, as appointed delegate for my local genealogical society, I wanted to attend the morning's Delegate Council Meeting.

Instead, it looks like I'll be dedicating another day to shoving my face flat into my pillow. (If you missed me yesterday, ditto for my calendar of events—and thanks to those who double-checked on me after my customary daily post didn't appear.)

If you are a genealogy enthusiast who happens to live within driving distance of Sacramento and have the rest of the week open, please consider joining in the activities. The NGS Conference is still open for registration at the door, even if you only are able to attend for one day. Just keep in mind you can't bring your Covid germs with you—but do bring a mask and your proof of vaccination and boosters. As much as we want to see each other again, this is a process which requires we tread slowly and carefully for the good of all.

From Relatives at RootsTech to Relatives Face to Face

 

It was the beginning of March and, as soon as I could, I opened my RootsTech account, even before the first session had started. Why? I was curious about my results from Relatives at RootsTech.

Even though I know the app bases its connections on the universal family tree at FamilySearch.org—and I could already spot mistakes in my own part of the family lines there—I was curious to see what the program would find. I am, after all, consummately curious about all my distant cousins, wherever they are.

Like anyone else, I was hoping for those elusive cousins to materialize—you know, the ones who hold all the intel on what became of that disappearing great-great-whatever-grandparent that nobody can trace on paper. In my case, I was hoping for a Polish connection to my mystery grandfather, known here in the states by the sanitized American version, John T. McCann. Yeah, right: Polish.

Instead, one of relatives rising to the top of my Relatives at RootsTech list was a fourth cousin once removed. Looking at the readout comparing our two family lines, I could see she was descended from my third great-grandfather George E. McClellan's oldest daughter. Looking at my own family tree, with its multiple collateral lines extended all the way down to present-day descendants, I realized I had this relative's mother in my tree.

Both of us must have simultaneously realized this, and rushed to send each other messages. She messaged me on the FamilySearch system, while I, realizing she is also on my DNA match list, sent her a note via Ancestry. Each of us independently realized the other had used a different messaging system, and responded there. After this comedy of communication errors, we ditched both systems and opted for the straightforward connection of email.

That turned out to be a good thing. After all, we may end up being the first of this year's new cousin discoveries through Relatives at RootsTech to become Relatives face-to-face. And we couldn't have planned this any better than it "accidentally" turned out to be.

You see, I'm not on the opposite side of the continent right now—you know, that home from which I always moan, "oh, if I were back east, I could look up that record in person." I had already planned to accompany my husband on a business trip to Florida. While there, we also planned on meeting up with family members in the area, including a special trip returning to Wellborn, the Florida home of my third great-grandfather, George E. McClellan.

It just so happens that my newfound Relatives at RootsTech cousin lives a ten minute drive from Wellborn, and goes there often to keep up the McClellan cemetery, once part of the McClellan property there. She offered: "I'll be happy to meet up with you there."

If all goes well with travel plans, and a thousand different variables all fall into place for five relatives' separate itineraries, that is exactly what we'll be doing...today.

A RootsTech Re-Wrap

 

It's been a week since RootsTech wrapped up its run for 2022. Generously, the RootsTech team made this year's event as accessible as last year's—and even more so now, as we can still access our play lists from the previous year, along with the current year's offerings.

Unlike last year, the "advantage" for me with this season's conference was that I was a captive audience. Coming down with an illness that same week which slew me—or at least knocked me flat on my back—had its advantages, at least in the matter of timing. I had no choice but to watch; I couldn't get up to do much more than lazily stare at my computer screen.

There was, however, much more than that, as far as benefits went. Now that I've had a week to mull over everything, here are some observations.

The first detail that struck me about RootsTech was how accessible beginner training was. From a selfish point of view, that might not seem a plus, but besides the outcome of nurturing newer genealogists, viewing the stuff which might seem old hat to us can still be beneficial. In the midst of all that "yeah, yeah, I already know that" material turned out to be quite a few helpful tips. While we may think we know a lot, there's always someone else who might turn up with a new way of approaching a problem that might not have occurred to us in our entrenched expertise.

There is also an aspect that I like to refer to as "learning by osmosis." That is the principle I try to employ when I write about my research escapades, becoming the genealogical guinea pig to share the experience in hopes that others will glean new resources or approaches to genealogical puzzles we have in common. At RootsTech, what I found unfolding in my mind, as I listened to speakers, were ideas on how I could modify someone else's research approach to fit a puzzle I hadn't yet been able to solve. There is something about listening to others talk through their difficulties that provides us with the creative problem-solving juices to oil our own mind's machinery. Insights often beget insights.

Now that I'm back on my feet, I suppose the remainder of my playlist will face the same fate as the one from last year's event: still waiting to be watched. That's the truth of the matter, as it stands now. But perhaps I'll heed that little realization, that light bulb that turned on while flat on my back last week during RootsTech. Sometimes a little down time to let our subconscious problem-solving mind tackle the details can turn out to be a good thing. It certainly did revitalize some research efforts for me—and I'm looking forward to sharing those little sparks in the coming week.

"Unlock the Story"

 

There may be, among some people, a certain pride in being able to claim that their family tree contains the names of multiple thousands of ancestors, or that they have "made it back" to an impressively early century in their genealogical research. In addition, those details seem to be correlated: the larger the count of names, the more likely the number of generations covered is higher. But is it?

Although yes, I can affirm that I have 27,858 names entered in my own tree—plus 26,200 in my in-laws' combined tree—there are some family lines for which I struggle to say anything at all, besides perhaps a name, about a second great-grandparent. Only a second great-grandparent. That isn't very impressive.

The goal, however—at least in my book—is not to see how far back in time I can reach, or even how many names I can collect,  but how many relatives' stories I can recover. Documentation is important, true, but I'm not out to be a collector of human data points; I want to know these people as if we were sitting across a table talking while sharing a cup of coffee.

This past weekend wrapped up an impressive and generous offering to the genealogical world, which its creators called RootsTech: an online event which, in an effort to become accessible to all despite the pandemic, drew over one million digital attendees worldwide, with events accessible around the clock. (If you somehow missed the news about this year's version, there are still free learning opportunities to be had. Check here for more information.)

While there were inspirational and educational sessions too numerous to review in one page here—and plenty of bloggers who have shared in far more detail than I am providing here—there was one brief statement from one session which particularly spoke to me. So much so, in fact, that I had to stop the video—you can do that, you know, with pre-recorded sessions, but I had to wait until this main stage event was re-posted among the taped versions—and write down that one particular phrase.

The session I have in mind was the RootsTech Main Stage presentation, "The 1950 U.S. Census and You." In that multi-faceted look at what's racing toward us in less than a month now, Ancestry.com spokesperson Crista Cowan was talking with FamilySearch's Senior Vice President (Europe and North America), Stephen Valentine.

By the time Mr. Valentine joined the program, we had been treated to an overview of the amazing technological advances in handwriting recognition artificial intelligence and how this will speed up our accessibility to the soon to be released census data. True, the process will require a human-with-AI partnership similar to what we've known at FamilySearch as "indexing." But even that process has been re-imagined and fine-tuned. Now, it will not only allow volunteers to help others access the information, but allow us to help ourselves get closer to our own research goals by zeroing in our efforts where we help index within the 1950 census project—all within the "Get Involved" portal at FamilySearch.org.

Within that context, it is easy to see how much this technology will accelerate our ability to gather names, dates, and locations, adding them to our ancestors' timelines. Hopefully, though, from that point, we will step into a new realization. That was the essence of Stephen Valentine's comment in that RootsTech presentation. He reminded us: the data is not there just for us to build our tree bigger or faster, but for us to have more tools to "unlock the story."

The story is already there, but it is hidden—buried, sometimes—within the mass of data swirling around the lives of our ancestors. Sometimes, the work to sift through the volumes of excelsior packed around the gem of the issue seems wearying—even insurmountable, like my quest to learn more about the life of my fourth great-grandfather, Charles McClellan. But that innate sense of looking for the details surrounding his life—his "F.A.N." Club, how he spent his days, what was important to him—may turn out to be spot on, after all.

Those details, as it turns out from the RootsTech overviews of what's to come at genealogy services like FamilySearch, Ancestry, or MyHeritage (to name a few among many), may become easier to access in the near future. I found it excellent news, for instance, that some wills and probate records are now searchable not only by name of decedent, but also by all key names included in the document—excellent news as I search for Charles McClellan's involvement in his community and his church in early 1800s Georgia and Florida. These are the data points which, examined more closely, may help answer questions which I could not answer any other way.

Accessibility through data, sifted, sorted, re-envisioned. This will be the key to help me—and all of us—unlock the story of our specific ancestors.   

Hold That Thought

 

The plan for March: dive energetically into the pursuit of my fourth great-grandfather, Charles McClellan, discovering all I can about his life's trajectory, and gleaning clues—where solid facts are camouflaged—from his encounters with his F.A.N. Club, first in Florida, then backwards in time to Georgia and then, maybe, the Carolinas.

The detour: stopping to receive a routine Covid booster shot on my way home from meetings on Monday. Silly me; I thought it would be no worse than the other two times I had done that. Besides, I needed to do that; I'm flying east to meet up with family in a few weeks. It would be foolhardy to take a trip like that without maximum protection.

Clue: think again. Perhaps it was because I actually came down with the disease in January that my immune system roared into action. Long story short: we'll have to put that exploration of Charles McClellan on hold until I can manage to sit up longer than it took to write those three paragraphs.

I'll be back soon. I promise. In the meantime, no matter what happens, I'm glad I can watch RootsTech online, whether seated, standing, or crashed out on the sofa. Being virtual has its virtues.

Choosing Connection

 

It's the weekend before RootsTech, and all through the night, I've been trying to catch up with one particular connection tool available to conference participants: Relatives at RootsTech. Sure, there's a lot to be done to prepare for the beginning of the event when RootsTech opens this coming March 3 - 5. I certainly want to set up my RootsTech play list, for instance; even though there are nine hundred new sessions available, it seems like the fifteen hundred sessions from last year will still be available through the FamilySearch Learning Library. That alone will take some planning to navigate.

The theme for this year's free online conference is Choose Connection, and what better way to convert that sentiment into action than to participate in Relatives at RootsTech. That means, of course, signing up for a free FamilySearch.org account, if you don't have one (done). That also means registering for the conference (check) and clicking the statement indicating I specifically wish to participate in Relatives at RootsTech.

Those are all simple steps, of course. Far easier to accomplish than the next hurdle: making sure my ancestors' presence is included in the FamilySearch tree. For those who have been active participants in the universal tree build at FamilySearch, that task is as done as it ever will be, but for someone like me, who prefers the curmudgeonly plodding way of building my own tree in the solitude of my own subscription at Ancestry.com, it's not like I can simply upload my twenty-something thousand relatives onto FamilySearch via a GEDcom. Oh, no, think again: it means going step by step, adding my favorite—or at least most desperately sought—ancestors onto their tree, one by one.

Groan.

I did, however, persevere. I now have a token presence on the FamilySearch.org tree. Mainly, the lines I input represent my paternal grandparents' no-longer-mysterious Polish roots, and a few of my mother's lines. And you know what? In doing that process, I was amazed to discover that several of those individuals turned out to not have any matches already resident in the database—which means I contributed new information that, hopefully, others will be able to find and, perhaps, build onto from that stub of my building project.

Face it: every new bit of information we provide can, in turn, help someone else with their brick wall ancestor. Since RootsTech is such an international event, of course I have a selfish motive: that someone from Poland might discover some of the ancestral entries I included and be able to build out the line to current descendants halfway across the world from me. If those connected relatives happen to be able to speak English, connecting through chat at RootsTech might mean I can reach out to a long-lost distant cousin whose ancestors might have always wondered what became of my great-grandparents after they left their homeland. An exciting thought.

Apparently, I've already amassed over nineteen thousand "relatives" who have signed up for Relatives at RootsTech this year. Not a one of them is from Poland—so far—but I can keep hoping. Most are from the United States. While there are plenty of Broyles, Taliaferro, and Tilson connections I've spotted, a match is only as good as the data it is drawn from, and some of those ancestors "in common" are names I've never encountered before. I'll wait until I see the proof on paper before I become ecstatic about some of those sixth cousins (or beyond), but I've spotted a few third cousins of interest—yet another way to look at a theme like "Choose Connection" for a fun application like this.

 

Glad I'm Not a Time Traveler

 

It's been a busy season for me, coming out of pandemic isolation and back into the always-rush-hour world of inter-connectedness. In just one season, my family has flown cross-country to Florida on business, then to Connecticut for training, then driven to San Diego for yet another company event. Before the month is out, we will complete one more masked venture on a five hour flight across the ocean. Even I can't keep up with myself. Despite the theoretical perks for family historians, it makes me glad I don't have the capability to be a time traveler.

Having a perpetual motion schedule has its down side, as you can imagine. The theoretical approach of completing work ahead of time to make space for down time on trips is near laughable. I think working ahead only doubles the "fun" by dooming such a poor soul to have to repeat the effort upon return home; there is always something more to complete in the after-thought. I find myself reviewing tasks and realizing how much got neglected, despite the twice-over built into the travel system. Perhaps there is something to be said for the value of peaceful contemplation in unhurried pandemic conditions.

That said, what prompted me to consider how klutzy a time traveler I'd be was the moment of stumbling upon readers' kind comments from the past month, and realizing I hadn't responded. One comment in particular touched on how to choose research projects. While I can't lay out a rigid how-to procedure in response, I do have some suggestions based on my own experience, and will spend some time at the end of this month to discuss how I go about planning future research.

The year ahead certainly promises to be different than either the nearly two-year-long pandemic season we've just passed or life-as-we-knew-it before words like coronavirus became part of our everyday lexicon. Yes, there may be variants on the horizon, or another surge, but people are making plans to travel—or actually going out there and doing it now. Some folks will be packing their bags for that annual trip to the Salt Lake Institute of Genealogy in January—sadly, I will not be among them next year—or maybe even venturing out to Sacramento, California, for the National Genealogical Society's annual conference this coming May. There will be trips to courthouses to retrieve records, or pilgrimages to clean ancestors' headstones. Maybe people will be brave enough to gather together in family reunions once again.

It will be good to see familiar faces back in the same comfortable places where we once enjoyed gathering—or in places new to us with future friends and associates in upcoming learning experiences. No matter which trip it is that becomes my preferred way to disrupt my everyday schedule, I'll be glad it involves only the here and now and not the wide-open world of time travel. I'll leave those scenarios to the imagination of science fiction right now. No falling into the plagues, leprosy, or consumption from ages past for this uncoordinated traveler; masking up for the coronavirus is challenge enough for me.

 

Reviewing RootsTech

 

For some people, once is enough. For others, it's never enough. 

That's the perennial argument at our book-lovers' home. On my part, as much as I love to absorb every word of the books I read, once I've passed that way, I don't want to squander my time by re-reading what I've already conquered. So many books, so little time.

On the other hand, both my husband and my daughter savor the experience of fiction, and can thrill at the author's craft by revisiting the same pages over and over. Once is never enough for them. When it comes to movies and other visual formats, "reruns" is no despised phrase; the second—and third, and fourth—time is just as good as the first. Maybe even better.

Perhaps that is why I was ambivalent about attending this year's RootsTech Connect. I knew I'd never be able to sit through the entire proceedings online; I do, after all, have a life which cannot easily be put on hold. That, for example, is why SLIG in person at their hotel enclave in Salt Lake City works for me—it's the hideaway factor—but by video conference was a less than stellar week.

Still, for this year's RootsTech, there was one tempting offer: the RootsTech Connect videos would continue to be available to watch. Any of them. Any time I wished. Knowing that, I changed my mind and registered.

And then, a funny thing happened: I found myself wanting to watch some of those videos again. Don't get me wrong; I'm still a one-take person. I took voluminous notes on the sessions I did watch during the conference. But then, setting the session aside, later, I'd find my mind wandering back to the topics which were discussed by those presenters. And wanting to revisit the topic.

Maybe it's the dialog that launched in my head, thanks to the inspiration of the very usable material at RootsTech. Now I'm glad it will be there for me to go back and review, whenever I wish, for the next year. Not only that, but when I share with others what I've heard in specific presentations, I can refer them to the specific link, and they can register for a free account and watch the same session, too. It makes for wonderful dialog with others I know here at home who are working on the same research issues.

I'm not sure whether collaboration was what the RootsTech planners had in mind by making those hundreds of sessions available for the rest of the year, but that's what I call a beneficial unintended consequence.

RootsTech Wrap-Up

 

RootsTech Connect, this year's virtual answer to scheduling a genealogy event as all-encompassing as last year's conference in Salt Lake City, has been the talk of many bloggers in the past week. And no wonder: while the conference, in the past, drew more than twenty thousand attendees at a time to the Salt Palace, no pandemic in the world could stop more than five hundred thousand family history enthusiasts from registering for its re-invented self this past week.

I was one of those folks on the fence about this whole deal. Admittedly, I have never attended a RootsTech conference live; rubbing shoulders with that many people is just not my preferred mode of learning more about genealogical research. That barrier, of course, would have been removed with this year's parameters—so what took me so long to make up my mind?

For one thing, while I do enjoy attending conferences—albeit on a more modest scale—my preferred learning mode has switched from conferences to week-long, in-depth venues like the Salt Lake Institute of Genealogy. RootsTech, on the other hand, has switched from the typical conference-style one-hour level of depth to offering some sessions of a mere twenty minutes length.

There was only one selling point that got me to change my mind—well, other than the updated price tag. Not only was this year's event free for all who registered, but the virtual breakout sessions, all pre-recorded, will be available to watch for nearly a year afterwards. Now, that is a bit more manageable.

And so, approaching the midnight hour for signups, I logged in to officially register for this year's event, RootsTech Connect. I followed that with two essentials (although I admit, one is really for fun). I took care of the task of setting up my playlist—which some have dubbed Netflix for Genealogy—and then I opted in to Relatives at RootsTech.

While that seemed a self-directing effort, judging from feedback, apparently it wasn't. After several members of our local genealogical society asked me for help accessing RootsTech—and believe me, I'm no tech guru—I thought I'd better compile some self-help links. As it turned out, there were ample resources posted both on the RootsTech website and through YouTube, not to mention the promised help of an army of volunteers for the asking with just a click on the website itself.

Most of those links served their purpose in guiding members to access the online venue, so I won't share here what I found—it is, after all, Day Three of the event now. However, there were a few other helpful posts which may still be pertinent to share, especially if you are still setting up your playlist.

From professional organizer Janine Adams, I gleaned her tips and picks for the event, including her reminder to access the chat rooms while they are still live during the event. Likewise, Gail Dever from Montreal offered her overview of the event's features. One RootsTech speaker and regular genea-blogger, Elizabeth O'Neal, also listed her specifics of the event to keep in mind, a helpful overview.

Of course, while guidance from respected others may be nice, I like the direct approach: I headed straight for the "sessions" listing to search for topics. And once I realized the search for speakers wasn't quite adequate, I took the detour to the "speakers" tab on the RootsTech menu. Easy peasy.

There are so many sessions to take in that it wouldn't be possible to watch everything in the limit of this three-day run. More than one thousand breakout sessions in eight focal areas—not to mention the variety of languages in which presentations are offered or translated—will play continuously as the conference chases the sun around the globe until this evening's closing session on the main stage.

There is, on the website, a "Guide Me" tab in the menu, but in case you'd like to have some others offer their point of view, blogger Randy Seaver has assembled a compendium of blog posts on attendees' take on the conference. From a legal point of view, Judy Russell offered her recommendations, and from a genetic genealogy slant, Debbie Kennett offered her list.

Keep in mind, while registrants may watch their selected playlist sessions on demand at any time in the year ahead, some events are time-limited. Besides the live chat sessions, the keynotes may only be available at set times, even if recorded. And the vendors at the virtual Expo Hall—and their demos and information sessions, as well as their chat sessions and special conference pricing for purchases—are mostly limited to the three days the conference is scheduled. With the limited time remaining, one quick way to gain an overview of the newer additions to the Expo Hall is through blogger Linda Stufflebean's two part post at Empty Branches on the Family Tree. 

While I, for one, cannot wait until we return to in-person conferences—of the more modest variety, of course—the RootsTech team certainly must be congratulated for their enormous undertaking to convert their brainchild into a virtual experience. And kudos for their insight on how information hogs like myself couldn't possibly glom on to their every offering in just one glorious three-day stretch.

Keeping in Touch

...er, touchless contact. It's just another day of corona virus lockdown, and I'm missing all the people I'd usually see today. After all, this is when our genealogical society usually meets—but this month, no meeting.

On the work front, our business has learned to keep in "touch" by virtual means. We've certainly put Zoom through its paces in the last few days, and we're thankful there is such a technology available to those who still need to keep working, but can't go out and meet. This even applies in school settings, and, with the help of parents, even with younger students.

Because we are a training company serving a broad spectrum of clients, I need to keep an eye on developments across several different industries. The other day, a short post in another blog caught my eye. Even though it was written by someone well known in the marketing arena, it addressed the topic of education, so it grabbed my attention. The bottom line: instead of meetings featuring one talking head speaking to a virtual room of people who are, in actuality, zoning out, why not create an environment in which everyone can participate? Why not facilitate a meeting with a goal to "produce powerful and engaging discussion" about the topic we've come together to address?

The blogger—author and creative Seth Godin—calls his idea "transformative online learning" and he outlines a way to achieve this through a series of guided conversations. The whole process is aided by technology, of course, which is why the article caught my eye. Right now at our own company, we'd be nowhere if we didn't have Zoom. His discussion about that idea of guided conversations mentions a feature at Zoom which enables virtual breakout sessions within videoconferencing meetings.

Reading about such an option, I couldn't help but juxtapose two personal beefs about conferences (yes, even genealogy conferences). The one is my own complaint: conferences are so huge, all that really gets accomplished is to go hear a talking head (if even a nationally-known talking head) lecture for an hour; attendees rarely get to delve into problem-solving on issues that personally challenge them, except for the serendipitous occasional one-to-one connection in passing. The other issue—which is more an issue for groups which organize these big conferences—is that fewer and fewer folks seem to spring for attendance at such big-box events.

Why not experiment with the technology to enable guided small group conversations within a class topic at virtual conference settings? Now that I know about the Zoom offerings for breakout sessions, I'm chomping at the bit to try that option in a learning application.

Meanwhile, here we all are, isolated in our own homes, keeping our school-less kids busy or aiding our elderly relatives who can't go out in public right now. I don't think there are many who see this crisis as an opportunity—even those of us who miss seeing each other right now. We are quite pressed out of shape by the challenges ahead of us. We've somehow lost the spitfire inspired by the motivational speaker's meme of the Chinese character for the word "crisis" (the juxtaposition of "danger" and "opportunity"). We just want to stay away from the danger.

And yet, no one likes to sit still and remain a captive audience to a script spouting crisis. People always find a way to find a way. It's amazing what we can learn about ourselves in the face of disruptions such as this, and I hope some of us will piece together new options to salvage the ruins of old complaints. After all, we might be together in this for the long haul. May as well find a way to creatively keep in touch.

New Toys!

Whether you were one of the twenty-thousand-plus brave ones to face the crowds at RootsTech 2020 or, like me, stuck with the #NotAtRootsTech stalwarts, you may have noticed one thing: RootsTech is the time when genealogy companies—and innovators—often use the conference stage to make their announcements of big improvements to come.

This is the time, in past years, that launched such valuable creations as Jonny Perl's DNA Painter. With developments like that, who wouldn't be interested in seeing what's next in genealogy?!

While this year's RootsTech Innovation and Tech Forum brought some interesting concepts to the forefront—blogger Randy Seaver's Genea-Musings for last Friday gives a convenient overview of the highlights—the latest development to catch my attention turned out to be an announcement that didn't come from the RootsTech stage, but was delivered straight to my in-box, courtesy of social media.

If you are an avid genetic genealogy customer at 23andMe, I imagine you noticed that message, too; great news can sometimes spread like wildfire. If you missed it, the company's blog explains what's headed our way, beginning today: automated genetic family trees.

Actually, the news from 23andMe came out before the big reveal was launched. With news like that, it didn't matter to me that it was still February when I read it; I headed straight to my account at 23andMe and checked it out. Yes, despite it being Leap Day, I could still download the beta version of the predictably-named "Family Tree"—the site promised it would take less than a minute to accomplish that—and take a sneak peek at what would go live this morning.

We all will, of course, have to wait until the feature's official start this morning, but by going to the drop down menu labeled "Family and Friends" and selecting the "Family Tree beta" option, I could see the swoops and swirls of the lines which promised to connect me to all those thousands of DNA matches at 23andMe whose names, in the recent past, have had me totally stumped.

It's an algorithm which enables 23andMe to predict how your matches flow together to form a family tree. Like all algorithms, it takes into account certain assumptions, one of which is the stated age of the customer. This, if you are aware of the idiosyncrasies of my own family, will probably cause some problems. And I am not alone in this. Just think: how many others have families where the age gap between oldest and youngest sibling can run upwards of twenty years?

Concerned about how an algorithm with such built-in assumptions would handle a tree like mine, I couldn't wait until the official unveiling on March 1; I headed straight to the website to load my tree and take a look.

Sure enough, though the explanation warned that the computer-generated tree could not yet predict which was the paternal versus maternal side of a customer's tree, my mystery grandfather's legacy extended its grasp to twist even this tree. I had DNA matches whom I was sure belonged to one side of my father's tree inserted on the far opposite end of what should have been the maternal side of my tree.

Just in case it was just my family which was too weird, I jumped over to my husband's account to check out his automatically-generated tree. In his case, my husband has two cousins who are keen on checking out their DNA results at 23andMe, but despite the company listing them correctly, on another part of the site, as his first cousins, in the automatically-generated tree, they were magically transformed into his aunts. Once again, I suspect that assumption about age disparities was what threw off the calculations.

Oh, dear. And I couldn't even edit the mistakes. Not yet, at least. That comes with today's big reveal. Or perhaps even later, as the company promises that their team will be working on further improvements throughout the rest of 2020. The bright spot is that the tree will come with tools to edit and make additions, even of family members who might not have taken a DNA test with 23andMe.

There's a good reason for a company like 23andMe to develop such an aid as this. The company recently discovered, in a survey, that although more than half of respondents expressed interest in learning more about their family history, they encountered barriers in proceeding any further than taking the DNA test.

Despite the high awareness and interest in family trees, very few people play an active role in developing their own tree, as 52% of respondents cited difficulty to create and not knowing where to start as the main barriers to creating one.

While a statistic like that should cause local genealogical organizations to perk up and take note of how they could be of service to such DNA-testing customers, I'm certainly glad that such a revelation inspired the development that 23andMe is now launching. It's a promising start. I look forward to seeing how they develop this germ of an idea—not to mention, find a way to connect all those mystery DNA matches to the right branches of my extended family tree.

Learning by Doing

Have you ever sat down in a classroom, after months of learning, to discover you forgot every answer you had memorized for the big test? Enough teachers have experienced that very sinking-pit-of-the-stomach feeling as former students, themselves, that it has apparently inspired them to find new ways to assess how well their students are learning.

Fortunately for the world of genealogy, one of those innovative teachers was a speaker at last week's APG conference, and I just happened to sit in on his class. The instructor was genetic genealogist Paul Woodbury of Legacy Tree Genealogists, who, in addition to being a fellow APG member, has also earned a master's degree in instructional design and educational technology.

The take-home part of this information, at least for me, was the instructional design component of the presentation Paul offered at the APG conference. Like many others attending his session, I spend a great deal of time teaching genealogical concepts for various classes, and I wonder how much those lectures "stick" with students. Even though I teach in a computer lab, the learning part is not necessarily followed by the doing part until long after the student finishes the course.

The main portion of Paul's session at APG became a hands-on learning lab, where attendees formed teams and participated in what he describes as a "gamification" approach to learning. That, in itself, became our learning by doing demonstration. In less than one hour's time, we were transformed into participants in an escape room, and our keys to escape came to us through the carefully parceled out clues awarded to team members who arrived at correct answers to a series of research tasks.

As we expected, considering the instructor's forte, the subject matter for this "exam" involved not only genealogy, but DNA testing, specifically. We all had a lively time racing the clock and figuring out the correct answers to each of seven serially-issued packets of clues. It was a fun—exhilarating—time, but once out the door (in real life), I hadn't given the technique much further thought. The syllabus included a carefully thought-out explanation of why such new approaches are so necessary in education—including in the field of genealogy—but I told myself I'd read the serious academic stuff later.

Early this morning, though, I woke up to a thought: even though I'm not currently teaching a genetic genealogy course, I can put that same technique to good use in the class I am teaching now. That concept transposes quite conveniently to other genealogical scenarios. Since my current course—how to use the Ancestry.com website—is coming to a close, what better way to wrap up the series than to put class members through hands-on participation in such a learning competition?

My mission right now—between today and Tuesday afternoon—is to come up with a research puzzle about a challenging family tree issue which can be readily researched via Ancestry.  With all the stories embedded in my family's history, there are plenty of sample scenarios to chose from. All that's left is to assemble the packets of graduated clues and line up the starting point of the sample trees to use.

The final step of this feedback loop is not really the question of whether students can demonstrate that they've learned the material in class. The final step is when the students show, through this demonstration, that the instructor has adequately covered the topic in a way that students can put to practical use. For that, I think I'll add one more step to Paul Woodbury's instructional idea: a debriefing session once everyone has escaped from the escape room. What worked? What could become clearer? These are questions that will hone the experience for the next class, as well. We all can benefit from learning by doing, but it also helps to quality check the aftermath of the doing. Just like the classical feedback loop, the system takes on more of a shape of learning by doing by learning by...well, you get the idea: a continual fine-tuning of the feedback loop by both teacher and learner.

Finding the Common Threads

Conference time is always a time of self-reflection for me. Having just returned from the Association of Professional Genealogists' 2019 Professional Management Conference, I have a lot to ponder. Plenty of input leads to plenty of output...eventually. But first, the thinking part.

It just so happened that, in another blog I follow (and not one in the field of genealogy), a post yesterday seemed to align perfectly with that pondering mood in which I found myself at the close of the APG conference. The post, written by marketing guru Seth Godin, touched briefly on what he calls wayfinding: what you need to do when "the task ahead is not quite the same as what you've done before."

His advice: find "the common threads." In other words, look for the analogies, but discern how the differences can impact the outcome.

In our family's business—a multi-faceted training company—I've lately been exploring the possibility that some of the skills our company brings to the table for other businesses could possibly cross-apply to the struggling non-profit entities we know in the family history world as genealogical societies. I spent the past week exploring that very thought with other attendees at the conference, seeking input from key people there.

The trouble with this idea is: it hasn't really been tried before. There are many gaps between what is needed and what has been provided in the past. And there certainly are drawbacks, as well. Seth Godin's blog post struck a chord with me there: the task calls for what he labels "wayfinding." And in this matter, I'm definitely having to find my way.

The comparison to developing the skill of "finding the common threads," though, quite comfortably resonated with me. And that's encouraging. There are several familiar, "common" threads to be grasped and gently coaxed through the weave of this new material. There may yet be a way found to take the concepts of the business world and distill them to aptly apply to the nonprofit world of organizations as local and focused as our genealogical societies. And that's a good thing, at least for those forward-thinking societies which wish to evolve with the changing times and see themselves become pertinent to future generations of researchers. No matter what the times, each generation's goal in finding their roots—and organizing to help each other do so—does contain common threads. We just need to identify which ones make the difference for those who are willing to face the changes ahead for societies. 

Grabbing Another Learning Opportunity

\When it comes to researching family history, there is always something more to learn. I took the opportunity this week to fly in to Salt Lake City—not a bad spot for this type of learning—to attend the Association of Professional Genealogists' Professional Management Conference.

This is my second year attending, as I was impressed with the different atmosphere at last year's PMC in Kansas City. Unlike many genealogy conferences, this one is, as I prefer to put it, intimate. It is also focused, considering many of the attendees are longstanding genealogical researchers, coordinating their own business ventures.

However, don't think the only ones attending are those for whom genealogy has been their lifelong vocation; I met several this year in stages of transition. For instance, there are those who are planning career changes, either upon their early retirement from other professions, or as a mid-career move to switch vocational focus. I enjoyed chatting at lunch yesterday with two women who started their career-switching trajectory by taking Boston University's online studies program. Others have been building up to the big jump by diligently attending genealogy institutes around the country, year after year. Yet another group is starting out in their college years, following a course of studies for their bachelor or master's degree in a related field, such as library science. I've spoken with attendees sporting a wide variety of educational and business backgrounds, situated on this wide spectrum of professional timelines.

The variety of training resources offered at this event is also refreshing. I tend to gravitate towards any sessions focused on genetic genealogy—and was certainly pleased to hear Dana Leeds (of Leeds Method renown) present an up-to-the-minute overview of how her color cluster methodology has melded with various other technology-driven assists. But the conference certainly offers information and support on so many other pertinent issues. I was glad, for instance, to be able to catch a brief session on creating instructional videos—something we need to hear more about in this field—by Shaunese Luthy of Untangle Your Roots.

This conference extends through the weekend, and I look forward to not only hearing from more of  such luminaries of the genealogical world as Elizabeth Shown Mills and Thomas W. Jones, but pioneers from the start of the explosion of interest in family history, such as Kory Meyerink, who was there at the formation of what later became Ancestry.com. What makes the conference refreshing, though, is APG's willingness to introduce bright, fresh faces and voices to the mix, with speakers from other nations, generations, and ethnicities. This weekend will provide plenty of inspiration to carry me forward for a long time. And there's nothing like refreshed enthusiasm to pick up the momentum. 

Sign? Or Symptom? This Week's "Wedding" Announcement

It just about killed me that I couldn't attend this week's FGS conference in Washington, D.C., but after hearing the news which broke this past Wednesday, I really wish I could have been part of things. While there have been positive reactions to this "wedding" announcement—at least from what I could see on social media—I can't help but feel like I'm merely being polite while suppressing a deep, inner, "oh oh" as I read through initial comments. I'm not sure whether this is a sign of the future, or a symptom revealing past problems, amplified.

I'm concerned for the underlying analytics bringing together two disparate groups. This may not turn out to be a match made in...well, wherever genealogical mergers are made.

You can find the press release officially announcing the merger plans between the National Genealogical Society and the Federation of Genealogical Societies posted on each organization's website. NGS leaders characterized the move as "improving support of both individual members and societies in the pursuit of genealogical excellence" and FGS leaders promised the merger would "allow for improved and expanded services to help support societies."

All that word smithing is confetti-worthy, ushering in a new age full of the glow of savvy advancement. What's behind the need for such a move is what gets me wondering. To be blunt, I'm concerned that genealogical societies may gain even more of the aura of the red-headed step-child if the mission of FGS does not homogenize quite as un-lumpily as hoped. While both groups are all for excellence in genealogy, the focus of NGS has always been on the individual; FGS, in contrast, is a collective comprised of member organizations.

Genealogy as a pursuit has long been beholden to collective action and accomplishment. The boots-on-the-ground that FGS sometimes mentions are their member organizations, which work face-to-face with everyone from first-time-inquirers into their family history to brick-wall-smashers celebrating the many conquests under their belt. Societies are the ones who entice newbies to start their journey, who hold steady the faltering researching hands of the frustrated, mid-journey, and bid us all progress upward in our expertise and research accomplishment. They need understanding in how to set up, develop, and perpetuate the infrastructure necessary to provide such services.

Yes, people can learn to gain those individual research skills in the new, self-serve mode of online genealogy—at the cost of impoverishing ourselves of the richness of interpersonal encouragement. But we need to understand what we're walking away from. The history of family history is rich with collaborative effort, the nurturing, encouraging, supportive efforts bringing many of us into the fold in the first place. There are all sorts of hobbies—and even occupations—which people can learn on their own, but the ones gained via a supportive and confidence-building network "stick" like no other.

That network of networks, in turn, needs our support. There is a reason why FGS came into existence. According to its own mission statement, their purpose, in part, has been to provide resources enabling genealogical organizations to succeed in pursuing their mission.

As the news of the NGS-FGS merger spread, leading genealogy bloggers voiced their assessment. The Legal Genealogist Judy Russell observed that "to the extent that the merger reduces duplicated efforts, it should be a very good thing overall for the genealogical community" but that since the aspect of services to societies differs in each of the partnering organizations, that will be the key concern as the boards work on the exact details of the merger.

Bottom line for connection-conscious Amy Johnson Crow is that "there simply must be a venue for society volunteers to learn how to be better managers...of the valuable societies that they are involved with." She likens the complementary but different missions of the two parties to "enjoying reading versus operating a bookstore." Tacking on a few token sessions in a conference or a few articles in NGS publications "won't cut it in terms of what societies need."

Or is this merger a sign of deeper distress? Here in California, we've already seen the "re-invention" of another popular conference in the SCGS announcement to skip their annual Jamboree next year; faltering numbers may be at the root, some speculate. On a larger scale, business analysts are eyeing mega-provider Ancestry.com's risk of ongoing flat revenue—for instance, in this chart-driven and number-crunching article, or its synopsis here (thanks to Randy Seaver's post at Genea-Musings)—which causes me to wonder why all this talk, at any level in the genealogy world, about re-inventing? This is a sure tip that genealogy as business-as-usual may be a thing of the far-gone past. Is this the floundering foundation upon which the FGS-NGS marriage stands?

As president of a local society, I keenly feel the need for our board to dive deeper into aspects of strategic planning, financial management, even team-building, to build an organization responsive enough to meet future as well as current demands. A national resource like FGS is even more needed now by local societies than it ever was before. While agreed, genealogical conferences featuring how-to sessions for individual genealogists can be blended between the two societies, there is no other national-level entity meeting the specific organizational development needs of genealogical societies—other than the FGS. Simply tacking on that element to the nuptial agreement as a cosmetic enhancement will not do local genealogical associations a beneficial service.