Column: United they stand, one flag, one hope

Squished like an airtight can of crammed sardines, hundreds of people gathered on the uneven stones of Piazza Signoria to celebrate the 150th anniversary of Italy’s unification. Green, white and red lighting draped the walls of the Palazzo Vecchio as triumphant strains of “Fratelli d’Italia”, Italy’s national anthem, sailed through the starlit sky.

“Let one flag, one hope, gather us all.”

As I stood on my tiptoes, my face shoved against the coat of the man in front of me, I scanned the hordes of Italians who celebrated the unity of a nation that was for centuries a land composed of individual, warring city-states.

As an American witnessing this unique event, I wished I was Italian.

Throughout my time in Italy, I have had countless introductions from those who pride themselves as Florentines, Venetians or Romans, in addition to being Italian.

Yet regardless of which city they are from, Italians continue to be connected to their roots through cultural traditions, which have been practiced for centuries.

A child learning the recipe of his great grandmother’s Bolognese sauce, a Sienese man beating his chest in triumph as the horse of his family’s contrade wins the Palio, watching an opera by Puccini in his hometown of Lucca — these are all images that serve as emblems of a national spirit that seems intrinsic to all Italians.

As a foreign traveler, experiencing the magic of these events is something that leaves you craving more than just a bowl of succulent spaghetti — it brings a desire to
absorb what it truly means to be an Italian.

Across the Atlantic, the culture of the United States is not as easily defined.

We are a country made up of a variety of people — people who have immigrated from every city, town and village, spanning the farthest reaches of the globe.

In the United States, most college students are third, fourth or fifth generation Americans. While they might know what countries make up their nationality, they do not usually possess strong cultural ties to their families’ homelands.

An American teenager might know more about the marital relationships of today’s movie stars than the hardships their ancestors faced during the massive famine in Ireland.

To be blunt, Americans generally know little about the people and places they come from. They seem to be detached from their past and choose only to look toward the future — whatever is chic, popular and technologically advanced.

When visiting a country like Italy, maybe it is a sense of nostalgia that Americans crave, a longing to see a group of people who find little separation from their family’s past and who they are today.

It was this feeling that swept over me when I happened upon a performance by a group of 20 men singing with a low bravado the strains of Italy’s history — her rich past, her resilience, her generous gifts to her people. Their voices resonated within the covered corner of the palazzo, reminding passersby of the importance of paying homage to their homeland.

For Italians, the 150th anniversary of Italy’s unification allowed for a weekend of festivity and maybe another excuse to pop open a bottle of Prosecco, but this sense of cultural pride is not a rare occasion — it can be witnessed any day of the week at any time of the year, in a café, at a clothing store or around the dining room table.

As I watched the fireworks streak across the sky above Piazza Signoria, it made me curious about my own heritage.

While I may not be Italian, I hope I can glean from these people the importance of national pride and how you should never lose sight of your heritage, the history of the people and places you come from.