My interest in history goes back as far as I can remember. I absolutely loved the Vikings and the Tudors at school. But family history was different. There is something about making that personal connection to history that changes everything.
It came through my grandma and my nana. They were a big part of my upbringing and I thought the world of them. Their families were happy and stable, and they used to talk a lot about their parents, grandparents, the people who lived before me. It sparked something in me.
I started young, probably about thirteen or fourteen. I would draw out family trees from what my grandma and nana knew, and if a great uncle came to visit, I would ask them questions too. Then at fifteen or sixteen I started going to the local history library, looking at microfiche and parish records. That is when it became real research, around 2005.
My granddad had done a little bit of family history before me. He was an eternal studier, always learning. He did GCSEs in his fifties and sixties, art courses, local history. He died at sixty-five, and by the time I started properly, it was ten years later. We never found his research papers, except for a local history study he did on a fireworks factory in Leicester, where my great-grandmother actually worked. So I had to start from scratch.
I found out that my ancestors were living in the centre of Doncaster and had a cordwainer's shop — a shoemaking shop — on the main street in the 1700s. When you know your ancestors were walking up and down those streets, it just fires off stuff in your brain.
That is what family history is to me. It is part of your identity as a person. By finding out about your ancestors, you discover more about yourself, your roots. You learn where you get certain traits. There is a deep connection there, and it is quite an emotional journey at times.