Catharsis: Italian Dream 2
I am not sure how many people are aware of what it was like growing up Italian post World War 2 in Ontario, but I can reassure you through my father and Frank's stories it was not very pleasant. I consider my parent's generation a lost one for they were forced (or shall I say compelled or encouraged) to feel that they must erase their Italian heritage in order to survive in their local communities. Although some of the language, recipies and cultural background may have filtrated through the different generations, there is much that the new one does not know.
I was born one year after the release of The Godfather and subsequently I was raised during a time when the media's fascination with the mafia trials complimented the release of The Godfather 2 and 3. This meant that it may have been okay to be Italian, but being Sicilian was different. The Italian community still clung to their old beliefs and stereotypes of Sicilians while the North American audience loved and revered us at the same time. It should not come to a huge surprise that my generation did not always announce that we were Sicilians, because we wanted to avoid the weary glances and suspicions that we were also connected to the Mafia.
I was also raised during a time when tolerance was only starting to bloom and so there had been some effort from the school boards and community to celebrate Toronto's diversity, but they still were unsure what to do with a mixed child. The goverment did not recognize so neither did society and most mixed kids were told to choose part of their heritage to call their own. I chose Italian, or more specifically Sicilian.
It is hard to say what does it all mean. Does it mean that I parade around town every four years screaming "Viva Italia!" and wearing my lanyards, jersey's and shirts? I look at my own family and it seems like that both generations are straying away from being Sicilian and accepting that we are third generation Canadian and most of that part of us has died. My aunts and uncles have carried on the reciepies of my grandparents and my uncle uses the rare italian word here and there on special occasions. One cousin took an italian course, but dropped it after one semester.
Does this mean that I am the last Serio standing? If I wanted to preserve a part of me, would it mean that I will need to carry it on my own?
I think my time in Sicily has truly changed me, since now I want to move to Little Italy and take italian courses. I want to immerse myself in the culture and rediscover who I am. I also would like a job eventually that integrates the two languages and allows me to spend more time being half Sicilian. This does not mean that I have forgotten my Chinese roots or have forsaken that part of my family, for they will always be a part of me. I cannot escape that half nor will I, but I do need to develop the Italian part.
I was slightly torn by my feelings for another man, but the more I search within myself the more I see that we are two parts of the same thing and that it has to do more with my heritage. i shall discuss more soon.
I was born one year after the release of The Godfather and subsequently I was raised during a time when the media's fascination with the mafia trials complimented the release of The Godfather 2 and 3. This meant that it may have been okay to be Italian, but being Sicilian was different. The Italian community still clung to their old beliefs and stereotypes of Sicilians while the North American audience loved and revered us at the same time. It should not come to a huge surprise that my generation did not always announce that we were Sicilians, because we wanted to avoid the weary glances and suspicions that we were also connected to the Mafia.
I was also raised during a time when tolerance was only starting to bloom and so there had been some effort from the school boards and community to celebrate Toronto's diversity, but they still were unsure what to do with a mixed child. The goverment did not recognize so neither did society and most mixed kids were told to choose part of their heritage to call their own. I chose Italian, or more specifically Sicilian.
It is hard to say what does it all mean. Does it mean that I parade around town every four years screaming "Viva Italia!" and wearing my lanyards, jersey's and shirts? I look at my own family and it seems like that both generations are straying away from being Sicilian and accepting that we are third generation Canadian and most of that part of us has died. My aunts and uncles have carried on the reciepies of my grandparents and my uncle uses the rare italian word here and there on special occasions. One cousin took an italian course, but dropped it after one semester.
Does this mean that I am the last Serio standing? If I wanted to preserve a part of me, would it mean that I will need to carry it on my own?
I think my time in Sicily has truly changed me, since now I want to move to Little Italy and take italian courses. I want to immerse myself in the culture and rediscover who I am. I also would like a job eventually that integrates the two languages and allows me to spend more time being half Sicilian. This does not mean that I have forgotten my Chinese roots or have forsaken that part of my family, for they will always be a part of me. I cannot escape that half nor will I, but I do need to develop the Italian part.
I was slightly torn by my feelings for another man, but the more I search within myself the more I see that we are two parts of the same thing and that it has to do more with my heritage. i shall discuss more soon.
posted by Ophelia Pace at 12:45 PM
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