Tagged With ancestrydna

In October 2017, Vadim Pushkarev, a Moscow-based lawyer, uploaded his genetic code to a new service called Zenome that promised him more than just information about his ancestry. This company was offering cryptocurrency.

My grandfather was caramel-skinned with black eyes and thick, dark hair, and until he discovered that he was adopted, he had no reason to suspect that he was not the son of two poor Mexicans as he'd always been told. When he found his adoption papers, according to family lore, he pestered the nuns at the Dallas orphanage where he had lived as an infant for the name of his birth mother. Name in hand, at 10 years old, he hopped a bus to Pennsylvania, met his birth mother, and found out that he was actually Syrian.

When you spit in a test tube in in hopes of finding out about your ancestry, you're giving companies like AncestryDNA access to a whole lot of very intimate details about what makes you, you. But how consumer genetic testing companies actually use your DNA is often obscured behind many pages of vague, jargon-filled legalese - and as I recently explored, those agreements can hide some rather terrifying clauses.