I’ve always believed that the journey of researching and writing about family history is just as important as the destination, but the research will often take us along unexpected paths. Uniting the current generation with earlier generations about a forgotten past is a worthy undertaking, but the project is often complex and can take a long time.

Recently I came across a book, Starry Field: A Memoir of Lost History by Margaret Juhae Lee. Margaret, the author, researched her family’s history set in Korea’s colonial era when it was annexed by Japan. It’s a beautifully written story about secrets hidden in a family tree handed down four generations. Margaret’s father grew up believing he knew the truth about his father, a story that led to him making decisions with lifelong consequences; however, during the author’s research, she learned that most of it was not true.

While researching my Wall family, I learned of a disputed paternity case associated with a descendant of my great-grandfather’s sibling. It wasn’t until that child was in his late 70s and in need of a birth certificate that he made the shocking discovery that the couple he thought of as parents were actually his grandparents. Being the youngest of eight children by a gap of 13 years, he accepted that he was a ‘change of life’ baby, as they were often called. Adding to the shock was learning that his favourite ‘sister’, who had since passed, was his birth mother. Stumbling upon this information, along with the realisation that his family had kept this closely guarded secret from him for so long, manifested into a disability he would live with until the end of his days.

Thanks to DNA technology and a mutual interest in family history, two of my distant cousins found each other. After 111 years, the paternity of a little boy born out of wedlock was brought into the light of day. Unlocking safeguarded secrets and the process of those journeys can be healing—but not always. One thing is certain: each case has its own timeframe and outcome.

Unbeknownst to us as family historians, we may glean something from newspapers, oral history, birth certificates, and DNA tests that makes us question what we think we know. Not everyone is open to talking about their family’s past. In a YouTube segment I watched, the author, Margaret Juhae Lee, offered some tips that could apply to many contexts. One useful tip was to start from where you and the person you are meeting with feel most comfortable before digging deeper. If you’re at a family gathering, ask potential interviewees about the foods people ate at certain celebrations or family gatherings in the past. Maybe they can describe a house or garden, the grocery store or street people lived in, something that takes them back to an era whilst keeping to safe ground.

Margaret recounted discussions with her grandmother, who only spoke Korean. Margaret understands Korean reasonably well but is not comfortable speaking it, so she asked her mother to handle the translation in discussions with her grandmother. Bear in mind that Margaret’s mother was her grandmother’s daughter-in-law. Margaret found that having someone handle the language difficulties and translation meant she could focus on her grandmother’s body language, facial expressions, and mannerisms. This is not something I’ve thought about when interviewing research subjects, but I intend to pay more attention to it in the future.

Another point to consider is what you hope to learn. Is it about filling in the gaps of a chronology, or are you wanting to get closer to knowing an ancestor? I approached someone to interview for a research project, and she responded negatively. After a while, as I grew to better understand the story, I approached her again and received a completely different reaction. My second approach was not about discovering facts and dates but seeking contextual background, such as what the neighbourhood was like, how people lived, who they played with, and where they went to school. Reflecting on my first approach, I wasn’t clear about the ‘what’ and ‘why’, nor had I given the informant sufficient consideration. Initially, she didn’t think she had anything useful to say. Being clear about your objective and putting yourself in the informant’s shoes might help you choose the best approach.

When preparing for interviews, timing is often an important factor. If your story is taking ages to complete, don’t lose hope; you likely have learnt so much more about the topic than had you finished it in a hurry. Turn the time into an advantage. Reflect on how you’ve been researching the past and whether there is a component of oral history that can be integrated into the story.

When there are no living descendants to talk to, consider place, culture, and other themes that someone might share their knowledge on to enrich your story. Knowing more about the background and context of people’s lives can help us better understand why things happened as they did. With my Wall family, the issue of paternity and the way a young woman was treated at the time echoed through four generations, not unlike Margaret Juhae Lee’s family. The circumstances are entirely different, but the inter-generational effects bear similarities. As we set about researching family history and ‘turning the stones over’, one never knows for sure what will be revealed. Delving into the human stories behind the records is often where the real gold lies.