My great-grandparents lived in a small town in Indiana on an orchard. I associate them with the smell of apples in summer, with the old floorboards of their home that would creak as we walked, the gooseberry bushes just outside their front door. I remember very little about my great-grandfather, but I do remember his deeply tanned skin, his large frame, how he barely spoke. My father has his same deeply tanned skin, and my own body reflects the dark features of my family. My great-grandmother and my father always talked about my great-grandfather’s Native American (specifically Cherokee) heritage, but no one could provide proof of this through tribal affiliation or family records. As an adult, I wanted to know more about my ancestors and the characteristics they passed down and down and down until they ended with me.

So, when my husband asked if I was interested in using a DNA testing kit, I thought about it for some time. On one hand, I lacked the information needed to truly understand my heritage. On the other hand, a DNA test wasn’t really going to be able to fill in the gaps for me. Even if my Native American heritage was confirmed, the test wasn’t going to help me be Cherokee. I didn’t understand the culture or the language. Would knowing the truth about my cultural heritage help me, or would it leave me feeling upset that I had missed out on such a rich and valuable aspect of my family history?

I decided to do a little research on these DNA testing services. I found that numerous companies—23andMe, AncestryDNA, and MyHeritage—were out there offering DNA testing through kits you could purchase online. The process seemed easy: Each kit comes with a container you use to collect a sample of your saliva, or it comes with a swab you use to collect cells from the inside of your mouth. You send the sample back, someone examines the cells in a lab and compares the genes with other genes in a large database, and then you receive results based on that analysis. It seemed simple, and the $200 (or $100 if I used a Groupon) seemed like a small price to pay for knowledge I so desperately wanted.

However, my research into the testing kits showed more than just how a genetic sample is collected and analyzed. There’s also concern about the reliability of the process. A 2018 Newsweek article by Kristin Hugo reports that “some scientists dispute the accuracy of [DNA testing kits]. Since there is no worldwide database of human DNA indicating at what locality different genotypes evolved, it’s very difficult to find an accurate read of DNA.” Hugo goes on to refer to Elizabeth Warren, the senator whose claim of Native American heritage evoked controversy and skepticism: “A DNA test may help determine whether Warren has any Native American blood, or it may not. The National Congress of American Indians says DNA testing can be useful, but they don’t guarantee eligibility for someone to enroll as a tribe member.” Even if the test did prove my Native American heritage, it wouldn’t help me become an enrolled member of my family’s tribe.

Further research showed that, if I chose to use one of these testing kits, I should be seriously concerned about my privacy. Recent stories, like those outlined in a 2018 Fortune article by Monica Rodriguez, show that the DNA collected through services like 23andMe and AncestryDNA can be accessed by law enforcement. While using DNA samples to catch criminals might not sound that bad, one interviewee in the article stated, “It makes me a little nervous, not in the sense that this technology is being used to stop violent criminals, but whether law enforcement will know when to stop…Will it just be used to catch murderers? Or will it be used to catch protesters one day, too?” Companies like 23andMe not only provide information on your ancestry, but also on your predisposition to certain diseases. Might insurance companies and employers use such information to medically discriminate against workers and others seeking health coverage? There’s reason to think they will.

I decided not to have my husband purchase the DNA testing kit for me. Not only was I still grappling with the fact that a test couldn’t help me gain a lifetime of lost cultural experiences, but it may not even provide accurate results, leaving me more confused than I was before. I also felt uneasy thinking that a database would be storing the most intimate details of my existence, and that anyone could have access to those details.

Recently, I completed a PhD in writing studies, with a concentration in women’s and gender studies, and much of my recent research focuses on American Indian and indigenous studies. I’ve found that nothing makes me feel more connected to the heritage I felt so disconnected from growing up than increasing awareness and doing activist work. Such work is harder to do than dropping a saliva sample in the mail, and costlier too, but it gives me more than “useful” information; it gives me experience, it gives me life.