A Few Words From My Italian Siblings
I am the second born of eight children to Alfonso & Giuseppina Natalie … 100% Sicilian-American from “testa a punta” (head to toe). October is Italian Heritage Month so [a couple years ago]I posted a question to my family about ethnic pride. The answers follow my post. My baby sister Nancy didn’t respond. I think her computer is down. I also got some great responses from aunts, uncles, cousins and nieces. Fahgeddaboudit! These seven responses are plenty.
Please don’t be offended with any subtle boastfulness you might detect. It’s all in fun. We love non-Italians. None of our spouses are Italian and all 22 of our kids are half-mozzarella/half-Velveeta. (Besides, being half-Sicilian makes you full-blooded Italian anyway.)
Oh … I didn’t get their permission to publish. But I got one question if they object: “What’s your problem!? Go sit down! Here … have a cannoli.”
Angelo’s question:
We all know there's the bad kind of pride that "goes before a fall" or keeps us from forgiving or bending the knee. But there is "good pride: a reasonable or justifiable self-respect; to be extremely joyful and delighted" in something noble ... like your ethnic heritage. So what is it about being of Italian descent that makes you joyful & delighted?
Personally? I'm in it for the food. ;-)
Peter:
One of the unique aspects about being Italian are the emotions that are so strong in all of us. When we love, it is unparalleled. When we hate, look out! In a way, it's both a blessing as well as a curse. Not easy dealing with those emotions sometimes. I want to say that I love all of you to an extreme (usually ;-) and am so proud to be a member of this family, and 100% Sicilian! Ti voglio bene, familgia!
Pietro DiNatali
Annie:
We're Italian????!!!!!! Seriously, all the posts so far have made me vaklempt. I know that's Jewish, but they’re cool too. I have always felt set apart and somewhat special to all my mixed breed friends throughout my life to say that I am 100% Italian. Aside from the olive skin and dark hair which sets us apart, all the things that have been written so far are so true. Even though we can't go too far back in our Serpe history [Mom’s maiden name], I am so proud of our family and all that has been accomplished through our ancestors until now. I have friends today that tell me they envy the closeness of our family. So obviously our pride does show!
Connie:
Being Italian means never having to wear sunscreen...always making people feel at home...feeding anyone that walks through your door...there is our kind of food on every corner of every city in the US...arguing if Sicily is really in Italy...knowing people are afraid if they cross you, you might be able to get a cousin to rub them out...the cookies...the lasagna...antipasto...pasta...Christmas traditions of family, food and yelling at kids...raising other peoples kids as your own...never being alone when you need people around...all priceless Connie
Joel:
Being Italian sometimes gives you liberties to be loud and boisterous, in which I take plenty of license. I find it funny how there are zillions of Italian restaurants but very few Irish or Polish ones, even though they probably out-number us...so the food is key. Big families and lots of cousins and great weddings and heart-wrenching funerals and slow metabolisms and wondering if you're somehow linked to "La Costa Nostra" and saying "butta bing" and having fifteen cousins named Angelo and being the guy in the room with some "character."
Alan:
One word: "Amore!"
Jeff:
Who doesn't want to be Italian and better yet, Sicilian? I tell people in therapy "Don't make me break your knee caps" and they all know immediately what I'm talking about. There's a certain amount of street credibility you get when you say your 100% Sicilian and grew up on 18th Street. Even the big shots that I see in therapy give me my propers...
As for the really valuable stuff, like Pete said, who better knows how to love, to hate that's what I feel great about. We're not afraid to experience life, to really embrace people and love them. We do that so well. We feed others (as Connie said); there is no one better at hospitality. We care deeply.
Great post Gelo.
Oh...I almost forgot. As a result of being Sicilian/Italian...we get to meet amazing people who you end up marrying. Like my bride....
5 comments:
Great post Gelo!!! Being one of those "Mixed Breeds" aka "Velveeta's", I can vouch for every word! I know of no family who Loves more deeply and completely than this famiglia! OH...and you're all LOUD...really REALLY LOUD!!
=o) ~Leslie
Angelo-
This is priceless! I grew up in Barrington, Rhode Island. My dad was German/Swiss background here since before the Revolution, Mom- full blooded Swedish immigrant stock. All the pride was Swedish, because they were recent arrivals. All the food at Christmas was Swedish- bland but somehow good, what can I say?
In Barrington, the Italian pride was necessary and entertaining. It was a rich, wasp-y place, and most of the Italians had been gardeners and cooks for the anglo elite. The Italian neighborhood was Maple Avenue, or "the Ave".
I'll never forget the day when a councilman had made an idiotic statement about Italians... whoah! The next day, all the Italian kids at Barrington High had a strike, and picketed the high school with signs, my favorite being "Wops Are Tops".
Anyway, loved this blog. And you're right - killer food, and here's hoping you have a connected friend if you get your ass kicked. ;)
Peace and Love
Phil
Les, You fit right in with the loud thing .. you know we love you.
Phil, I've been to RI a number of times & I have a strange affinity with the place. Now I know why: Wops are tops. That's priceless.
I like rigatoni.
I like romano.
I no lika sardines.
I did not know until recently that I was named Tony because I was Italian. My father always told me it was cuz I was so ugly he wanted to send me away "To N.Y."
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