Who are we?

I suppose that with the 'discovery' of the Higgs Boson particle there was some reason for a wandering mind.  I have little knowledge of this mysterious particle and listen, half in awe, and half in wonderment [how did they do this?] as we are assured 'we' can use this knowledge to advantage!!  Reminds me of the old saying, trust me, usually uttered by a politican offering platitudes.

My mind is sometimes perverse and travels it's own little route.  This time instead of casting forward into the far distant future, the past crept up on me ... no doubt helped by seeing, in a magazine, photos of long ago.

Most of us have a collection of photos.  I know I do, and many have been in the family for a few generations.  Some I have absolutely no idea who the models are.  I am loathe to turf them out as they might be important, a link to a past of which I am as yet unaware. 

But there is one photo that I do know about.  The elderly gentleman, with a long white beard, and piercing blue eyes, is my paternal g.g.grandfather, and thereby hangs a tale.

We were led to believe that this gentleman, who was one of the early whalers and sealers [an occupation considered a great No No today, but way back then whale oil kept the lights of the world glowing] on the South Island's southern coast of  New Zealand, came from a military family in Australia.  We even learned about him at school!!!  Now that was one moment I could proudly put up my hand and inform the class that he was my ancestor!

But the military family was but a cover ... his parents were convicts sent to Australia for petty theft.  Australia was a new colony of the British Empire and citizens were required to build infrastructure.  He had older siblings, but by the time he was born the 'powers that be' had allowed his parents to marry.  Being a convict had certain disadvantages, of which marriage was one.  The convict had to have served their time first!  Even history books on New Zealand schools were wrong.  

One day, a few years ago, another descendant of this gentleman was bitten by the ancestry bug.  The bite itched and itched, until she decided to look for a cure.  Documents were examined and facts were discovered.  He was not a 'son of the military', but a son of convicts.

Way back then shame blanketed such parentage, but today those of us who have such ancestry, can proudly claim our heritage.  Still, it is such a shame [in my today thinking] that the mammoth task performed by those convicts in building roads and bridges, towns and cities in a far off land so different from their home, and sure in the knowledge that they would have one change in a million of seeing their family again, has not gained acceptance until today.