The Power of Your Female Lineage

by Tabby Biddle

Top (L) to (R): Jane Josephine Sarmiento Biddle, Jane Margaret Craig Biddle, Deborah Fisher Wharton. Bottom (L) to (R): Catharine Wharton Morris Wright, Sarah Lippincott Biddle, Joanna Wharton Lippincott.

Top (L) to (R): Jane Josephine Sarmiento Biddle, Jane Margaret Craig Biddle, Deborah Fisher Wharton. Bottom (L) to (R): Catharine Wharton Morris Wright, Sarah Lippincott Biddle, Joanna Wharton Lippincott.

If we look back at the females in our families, what might we find? What do you know about the women in your family? Over the last few months, I’ve been asking myself these questions.

Two days before the U.S. Capitol was stormed on January 6th, my dear dad passed away. He was 92. Thankfully we were able to say our goodbyes, as we knew his passing was coming soon. My dad died peacefully, much like he lived his life, with loved ones by his side.

As I grieved the loss of my dad, I realized that this was also the loss of an entire generation in my family. My dad was the youngest of five siblings, and the last of his siblings to pass away. With this in mind, I had a burning desire to know more about my family, especially the women.

For years, I was aware of how little I know about the women in my family. I come from a long lineage of male leaders who held positions of prominence in U.S. history as politicians, diplomats, lawyers, judges, military leaders, business leaders, bankers, and philanthropists. But I never heard anything about the women. The men seemed to overshadow everything.

After my dad’s death, I became more curious to learn about my female lineage on his side of the family. It's something I never asked my dad much about. A few years back, however, he told me about a female cousin, Saint Katharine Drexel, who was canonized by the Roman Catholic Church for her work in the late 1800s and early 1900s establishing schools, including universities, for Native Americans and African-Americans in the western and southwestern U.S. to ensure their access to education.

Excited and curious to learn more, I Googled Saint Katharine Drexel and discovered that another female cousin—a second cousin who I had never met—had written a book about her. I ordered the book, and read it cover to cover. It was so enriching to finally learn about the life of a female ancestor, especially one who ditched the social expectations of her and followed her own calling and spiritual path.

Now, with my dad gone, I was inspired to reach out to this cousin author, Cordelia Frances Biddle, to see if she, a writer specializing in history, could help enlighten me about the women of the Biddle family.

Cordelia and I met by Zoom, and connected right away. She lives in my family city of origin, Philadelphia, and I’m an East Coast transplant in Los Angeles where her literary agent lives. We had a lot to talk about.

In our conversation, Cordelia shared with me what she knew about the Biddle women, which wasn’t as much as I’d hoped, but it was more than I knew before our meeting, so I was grateful.

Cordelia also shared with me that in her family line from her grandfather (our grandfathers were half-brothers), she is the only female for three generations. Wow. This made me realize that I wasn’t the only one who often felt alone or overshadowed as a woman in the Biddle family.

Growing up as the youngest sibling with two older brothers, and a male cousin the same age as my brothers who felt, at times, like a third brother, I often felt like the odd one out. But I had a recent revelatory moment that changed that.

During the pandemic, my family had been having monthly Biddle Family Zoom gatherings with my dad (while he was alive), my brothers and my cousins. During one of these meetings, I looked at the screen of everyone in Gallery view, and for the first time, I realized that we women were actually the majority in our family. For the first time, I saw how many powerful, amazing female cousins I have.

I suggested to Cordelia that I host a virtual tea party—just for the women of the family—and invite her so she could meet our amazing female cousins. Maybe, with all of us together, we could piece together some of the lost history of the Biddle women.

She was game.

The next day, I sent an invitation out to 15 female cousins on my dad’s side of the family to a “Female Lineage Virtual Tea Party.” I told them about my conversation with Cordelia and explained to them that since my dad passed away, I had been having a strong desire to learn more about our female lineage. I acknowledged that while there has been much written and recorded about the men in our family, the women's voices and histories, in my experience, were much harder to come by. This gathering would be an opportunity to celebrate the women in our family, and perhaps uncover more about our female lineage in the Biddle, Wharton and Lippincott families.

Women’s History Month was approaching, so the timing would be perfect.

Fortunately, I received a very positive response from my cousins. The RSVPs flooded in. Everyone seemed excited. This Female Lineage Tea Party would be the first of its kind.

While all of this was going on, I was in the process of a 49-day meditation and chanting practice to connect with my dad and support his transition in what the Tibetans call “bardo” — the state of existence after death and before one’s next birth. As a practitioner of Tibetan Buddhism, I believe that death is part of the ongoing cycle of life.

During my meditations, a woman’s name came to me several days in a row. The name was familiar to me — it was a family name — but I wasn’t quite sure who she was exactly. Was she my dad’s grandmother? Was she my great-grandmother? I had never heard my dad talk about her, but my sense was that’s who she was, and the name would be a match for that.

After my meditation, I did a Google search of the name to see what might come up. A young woman in the UK showed up on the first page of searches. I knew this wasn’t who I was looking for.

I remembered that I had a copy of my grandfather’s self-published Personal Memoirs on my bookshelf that I had read 25 years earlier. Now, with my dad gone, the book would have a much greater significance for me as a resource for our family history.

I opened the book, and sure enough, the book confirmed that the name of the woman was indeed my paternal great-grandmother. But it was her name before she married. I was excited by this discovery and wanted to know more. Why was I hearing her name? Why had she come to me?

The night before the Female Lineage Tea Party, a female cousin (2nd cousin) who I had just recently been introduced to by email by one of my first cousins—sent me a photograph of my great-grandparents at their 50th wedding anniversary with their children (my grandparents), and 17 grandchildren, which included my dad and his siblings.

Everyone was dressed to the nines—with the women in elegant gowns, the men in bow ties, the girls in fresh-pressed dresses and the boys in coat and tie. It was 1935.

I hadn’t told anyone about my great-grandmother’s name coming to me in my meditations. But here she was in her elegant home, in her elegant dress, surrounded by her loved ones. I wasn’t sure what the message was for me, but I knew it was a positive sign. I felt that perhaps she and my dad were having a hand at putting together this Female Lineage Virtual Tea Party.

The next day, I gathered with my female cousins by Zoom. In the invitation, I had asked the women to come prepared with two things:

1) A woman in our family they wanted to honor and say some words about (or tell a little of her story) to celebrate her and bring her personage to life for others to learn from/learn about/and be inspired by. This could be someone in their immediate family. Or, this could be someone more distant in our family lineage.

2) A woman in our family lineage who they wanted to know more about. If they knew her name, they could share that. Or, if they only knew her position, and not her name, they could share that. For example, "I'd like to know more about maternal great-great grandmother." 

After a short introduction, we went around in a circle, and each woman took her turn.

We spoke the names of our cousins, our aunts, our grandmothers, our great-grandmothers, our great-great grandmothers, and our great aunts, including one great aunt 10 generations back, Esther Biddle, who was an outspoken Quaker minister and writer in 1600s England. She believed in peace, non-violence, and that the Spirit lived inside all human beings equally. She was imprisoned 14 times for her Quaker convictions that challenged the Church of England. But she didn’t let that silence her. She kept writing and speaking up anyway.

We also spoke the name of my great-great-great grandmother, Deborah Fisher Wharton, who was also a Quaker minister, but in 1800s Philadelphia. She was a suffragist, abolitionist, co-founder of Swarthmore College, one of the first co-educational institutions in the United States, and the mother of 10 children!

We brought the legacy of these women into the circle and filled in the gaps of our knowledge for each other. Resources began to appear amongst our group—including books, artwork, photographs, letters and journals—by and about our female ancestors.

We discovered that, amongst us, we actually had a treasure trove of materials about our female ancestors. It felt like the beginning of something.

For days afterwards, I received notes from my cousins telling me about how empowering and enriching they found our gathering. It inspired them to dig further into the resources they had on hand—the books, photographs, artwork, and so forth. It inspired me, too.

From my research, I learned about a book written about our original Biddle Quaker ancestors in America, William Biddle and Sarah Kempe Biddle. They came to America in 1681 to escape religious persecution in England. (Esther Biddle was William’s Aunt.) After having seven children in England, five of them dying either at childbirth or within the first year of their life, Sarah and William Biddle found the strength to come to America to lead an experiment in democracy with their Quaker Friends.

William and Sarah, along with their Quaker Friends, successfully established a democratic-style government and judicial system in West New Jersey. It is said that the features of their constitution served as a model for the formation of the Bill of Rights of the United States Constitution.

For so many years, I had the perception that the men in my family were the only ones who held leadership and authority in the evolution of our democracy. This has shaped who I am today, and it is one of the reasons I do the work I do in the world. But now I know about the women. I know about Sarah, Esther, Deborah, Katharine, Anna, Kit, Joanna, Lydia, Jane Josephine and others. I know about their strength. I know about their voices. I know about their visions. I know about their artistry.

As I continue to learn about the women in my family, like a tree with strong roots, I feel stronger and more empowered in my being.

While I still don’t know the full significance of my great-grandmother coming to visit me during my meditations on my dad, I’m hoping that will be revealed to me some day.

What do you know about the women in your family? How might this inform your path? And if you’d like to know more, who could you talk to to find out more?


Tabby Biddle, M.S. Ed. works at the intersection of women’s leadership, feminine spirituality and social change. She is the co-founder of 50 Women Can Change the World in Media & Entertainment, the bestselling author of Find Your Voice: A Woman’s Call to Action, and an internationally celebrated women’s leadership coach, educator, strategist, and group facilitator for her unique approach to activating women’s leadership. Learn more.