October: Bearing Two Flags

Happy first week of October! I figured this was a good way to bring back the posts after a restful summer. I have a few drafts for all of you that are waiting to be published, and I hope to be back to posting semi-regularly soon.

---

October has always held special significance in our home. Not only is it a spooky month and the start of the continuous holiday season (81 days until Christmas, but who's counting?), but it is also Italian-American Heritage Month (in the USA).

Every October I think about all the things that had to happen for me to be where I am today. On January 22, 1956, Nonno, Nonna, Dad, and Zio Attilio boarded the Conte Biancamano in the port of Naples, to arrive in the port of New York on a cold, Friday morning, on February 3, 1956. They joined the "Italian Line" on 24 State Street, that mostly likely had a view of the Statue of Liberty in the upper part of the New York bay.

Crazy to think that just one generation separates me from 'The American Dream' that I read about in my middle school history textbooks. I am the direct product that 'The American Dream'. I am also one of the lucky few that has maintained the culture, language, and traditions that have been passed down to me.

The trip across the Atlantic on the Conte Biancamano permanently altered and shaped my identity. It rendered me an imperfectly perfect mix: 50/50 Italian and American (culturally speaking, because these genes are all Italian, baby 😎).

This 50/50 mix has sometimes caused identity crises, which I experience more frequently now, since I moved to Italy. When someone asks, "Di dove sei?" (Where are you from?) after we've had an entire conversation in Italian makes me PANIC. What do I say? Do I say I'm from Lariano? I've been living here for 3 years now, is that enough to justify answering with "I'm from here"? Or, do I proceed with a verbose explanation explaining that I'm actually from the United States, but I live here now.

"But you don't speak Italian with an accent. You can't be American, mi prendi in giro (you're kidding me)!"

Well, first of all, thank you! (Actually, thanks mom!). In another life, these language skills would have made me a great spy.

The question "Where are you from?" has never been easy to answer, even in the United States. The answer was always along the lines of "I'm from Sacramento, but my family's Italian". The last part always felt like an important part to mention -- but it's because it's who I am. My italianità (Italian-ness) is such a large part of who I am ... just as much as my American-ness is.

In Italian, there is a saying, "Buon sangue non mente", which translates to "Blood doesn't lie". It refers to the fact that children will inherit their parents' nature, physical characteristics, and personality. In my case, I think it's safe to say that this proverb is quite true: I'm American-born, but definitely Italian made.

The other night I was talking to my roommate (hi, Martina!) about identity.

"Francesca, this summer I thought about how strange it must be to be you!" she said.

I laughed, and asked "Why?"

"Well, when you're in Italy, everyone says you're 'American', but you're Italian. You speak it and know the culture...but when you're in the USA, everyone says you're 'Italian'. I would feel so confused, don't you feel confused??"

I looked at her and said, "Well, yes, that's sometimes how I feel. But, I'm both."

More than confused, I sometimes feel conflicted. The two flags within me constantly battle it out to see which one prevails over the other. Sometimes the 'American-side' shines through a bit more: I crave an American cup of coffee, I'm answering Facetime calls in public, I wear my crocs and flip-flops out of the house (the horror), or I'm having pancakes for dinner. Other times, the Italianità prevails, and suddenly I'm warding off the evil eye (il malocchio), never drinking a cappuccino after 11, am strict about how I make pasta, and am celebrating everyone's onomastico (Saint Day).

I guess one could say that being 'Italian-American' is a culture and identity of its own: a mix of both cultures, attitudes, and mentalities that are unique. It's a heritage that greatly appreciates the sacrifices of those that came before, and a culture that lives out and celebrates two identities with great pride.

And in the end, both flags win. I represent them both every day with pride... this month especially.