🌿 Lineage, Colonizers, and the Paradoxes We Hold

At our recent circle, one grandmother shared a dilemma close to her heart: Should I attend my white family reunion, or distance myself completely? Her ancestors were among those who enslaved others, and she carries the burden of guilt and shame that comes with that history.

The paradox was clear: the pull of belonging against the pain of rejection, pride tangled with shame.

Her words echoed deeply within me. My own ancestors were colonized, and my grandchildren carry mixed heritage. In our family field, both realities — colonizer and colonized — live side by side. This is not just her paradox. It is ours.

The Inheritance of Colonization

We each carry the imprints of history in our bloodlines.

• If our ancestors were colonizers: the inheritance may be guilt, the fear of complicity, the temptation to deny or distance ourselves.
• If our ancestors were colonized: the inheritance may be wound, humiliation, the temptation to minimize or remain silent.
• If both are true: the paradox is magnified — carrying both guilt and wound in the same body.

How This Surfaces in Families

These hidden histories often show up in very human ways:

• grandchildren rejecting one side of their heritage,
• silence between generations,
• sudden bursts of shame, guilt, or anger,
• or quiet confusion and ambivalence around identity.

The Role of the Elder

As elders, we cannot erase history. We cannot solve slavery, colonization, or injustice with a stroke of the pen.

But we can hold the paradox. We can sit with guilt and wound, pride and shame, colonizer and colonized — without collapsing into judgment. And when we do, we create a lighter Field for those who come after us.

From Guilt to Responsibility

Guilt keeps us bound to the past, circling in shame. Responsibility, on the other hand, opens us toward healing. It allows us to tend the Field so that the next generation can breathe more freely.

Whispers of the Field

Mixed heritage and lineage paradoxes are not problems to be solved. They are thresholds to inhabit with love, until they reveal themselves as bridges — ways of bringing hidden stories into light, and wounds into intimacy.

Closing Invitation

I leave you with these questions to carry in your own reflection:

• Were your ancestors colonizers, colonized, or both?
• How do these histories shape the atmosphere of your family today?
• What does it mean for you, as an elder, to hold these paradoxes with love?

Afterword

In truth, this chapter was not interrupted by the stories that flowed into our circle — it was woven by them. Each voice, each thread, became part of the fabric. And perhaps that is the deeper lesson: when we open ourselves to the living Field, even interruptions become invitations, and what seems fragmented can ripen into wholeness. 🌿