The Godfather, The Offer, and Disinformation
An Italian-American Christmas
Several years back, an evangelical Christian co-worker was complaining about the secularization of Christmas. “Jesus is the reason for the season,” he declared, literally raising his arm, pointing to the heavens above. “What does Christmas mean to you? Is it a holiday or an holyday?” he asked, almost daring me to answer incorrectly, or at least what he thought was incorrect.
Are Italian-Americans Italian?
Are Italian-Americans Italian? People keep telling me we aren’t. When I say I am Italian, Italian-Italians, those born in Italy, look at me with suspicion and scoff. American Uber-patriots chide me, telling me that I am American. In their minds, to associate myself the culture of my forbears is close to treason. With so many people telling me that I am not Italian, I cannot help but wonder if Italian-Americans are Italian.
Mythical Italy
Have you ever run into someone you have not seen in decades? I have. Recently, via social media, I made contact with a childhood friend. We had not seen each other since I was 15. He was an old man; what little hair he had was white and his belly hung over his belt. What happened? It was disheartening to later learn that he thought the same of me.
Being Italian American During a Covid Christmas
I am not sure how to start this post, how to do something other than contributing to the happy-happy-joy-joy holiday messages with which we have all been inundated over the past few weeks. However, I do have something to say as I reflect on this time of year and its relation to my cultural heritage, especially in light of the Covid pandemic.