I have a complicated relationship with Artificial Intelligence. Most people who know me have heard at least one rant about the dangers of using it indiscriminately. My cynicism isn't without cause; I worry about the staggering environmental impact of massive data centers and the "cognitive offloading" that happens when we stop doing the hard work ourselves—much like the documented cases of professionals whose skills atrophied after relying too heavily on automated tools.

And yet, I’m not a Luddite. I use Alexa in my home, and I’ve collaborated with AI like Gemini to help streamline locality guides or draft complex citations.

But there is one area where my skepticism hits a hard wall: the use of AI to "restore" our ancestors.

Today, a quiet, mostly empty park in Michigan stands where my ancestors lived for generations. In 1835, Toussaint Drouillard was granted just over 76 acres in what is now the Detroit area of Michigan — land he had been on for years already, but shifting borders and ownership of the area meant he had to re-affirm it was his. It wasn’t easy to locate the correct site of the Drouillard property I was looking for, in part because the area was home to many Drouillards. When my 2x great grandfather Peter Francis (also sometimes Pierre Francois) Drouillard died in 1947, his obituary in the Ecorse Enterprise stated that he died in the home where he was born, at 1130 Goddard Road in Lincoln Park, Michigan.

This is, from left to right, my great grandmother Claudia Caron, her sister Anna Caron, and their mother Margaret (Morin) Caron. I’ve always been fascinated by my great grandmother in part because I see parts of my face and appearance in her, such as her eyebrows and chin and hairline. Genetics are fun!

Claudia lived an interesting life.

Thinking about the 52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks topic for this week, "A Record That Adds Color," I decided to go a little literal.

This map of DeKalb County, Indiana was created in 1863 (digital is from the Library of Congress), and showcases detailed land ownership in the county at the time. DeKalb County is one of three counties in this area that a branch of my maternal line spent generations living in.

I was connected to my Aunt Marie before I even knew it. Marie O’Rourke was my great aunt, the sister of my paternal grandmother, and I grew up seeing her as often as I saw my grandparents. It was her first name that connected us, as my parents gave it to me as a middle name, in part to honor her as well as another family member. But along the way, I found much more that connects us.

Hello! My name is Janelle Asselin, and I have spent nearly my entire adult life researching my own family history while I worked as an editor. As my passion and dedication to genealogy has grown, it led me to decide to pursue genealogy more deeply. I love the written word and always will—but diving into research to help history come alive for myself or others is so fulfilling and enjoyable. Thankfully, it’s important that good genealogists are also good writers, editors, and critical thinkers… all skills I’ve been developing in my editorial career. I plan to use this space to write about my personal research, subjects and areas of genealogy I’m interested in, and genealogy tips and tricks. I love how supportive the genealogy community is, and I want to honor that with my own writing.