From the time I was a little girl, I can always remember being told that I was Italian.
Pasta and pizza have been my best friends growing up. I have a big Italian family on both sides of my family. Holidays are huge, especially Christmas Eve, where we indulge in the delight of seven fish feast. My mom slaves over the stove days before Christmas making pasta, sauce, desserts and many more delicacies. Then my family gets together for the tradition, and we are loud and obnoxious, but it is the best time. These are some of my fondest life memories.
Yes, the food is such an important part of the culture but there is much more. Being Italian is also about the way you act. My Nonna and Nonno also told me to carry myself with pride and to take care of my family. Being Italian is like a national badge of honor, don’t disrespect it. Being respectful and taking care of your family is your number one priority because at the end of the day you fall back on the them. I also thought it was funny growing that my Grandpa Ralph was obsessed with The New York Yankees and Frank Sinatra… It is because they are Italian roots there obviously. This past summer I studied abroad in abroad in Florence, Italy, it was easily the best experience of my life. There is honestly so much magic in the Italian air. There is so much history and culture it was amazing. I am a total history nerd, so I was geeking over it all. In Florence I was walking in the footsteps of Dante Alighieri and in Rome the steps of the great emperors. Also, to visit where your family is from is truly touching. At points in the trip I would get so emotional because I felt so connected to my family. In the Tuscan countryside I kept thinking of my Nonna, I literally felt like she was with me. In the Amalfi Coast where my Grandma was from, I felt her too. Sometimes I would feel like my Poppy was with me too, I just wanted them to know I was in the motherland.
I also have always been told I look “very Italian.” I have dark hair and features, strong facial features, and olive-toned skin. Sometimes the people of Florence would ask me if I was Italian or Sicilian, and I would be shocked that they could just tell. To me, that was a major compliment. Being Italian means a lot to me. It has shaped the person I am today and has connected with my family. Between the food, the culture and the language, it is something so indescribable. I am proud that my family rooted me so deep in my heritage. In short, I feel bad if you’re not Italian! haha! Ciao, regazzi!!!!
Tuscany, Chianti Region, Italy June 2019