Lost Heritage

Ben's second grade class had a "Heritage Report" due today.  As part of their report they had to interview a family member, create a family tree, copy a family recipe and create a heritage doll.

Growing up with my maiden name of Vellutini, I was only 1/4 Italian, but claimed to be "mostly Italian".  Our extended family participated in the annual Italian Picnic up in Sutter Creek.  I took four years of the language in high school.  My best friend Sarah and I always said we'd marry good Italian boys so we'd always have an Italian last name.

I married a Kimble.  She married an Italian boy.

My great-grandmother, Dina Pera, came over from Italy in her 20's.  My grandfather was first generation Italian-American.  While my father was growing up, it was taboo to be anything but American, so he wasn't allowed to learn the Italian language from his father or grandmother.  (I think my grandma just didn't want to think they could talk behind her back without her understanding it!)   Over the past seventy years, our family has handed down our Italian culture through spaghetti sauce and bacon pasta, polpette (Cara, did I spell that correctly?), a strange love of Mob Hits and the Sopranos, and telling multiple people that our construction business has no ties to the mafia.

But here we were in my kitchen last night, my fourth generation Italian-American son, who is only 1/8 Italian, and I - and I realized that Ben's heritage is so completely mixed.  He's Italian, Irish, Sioux Indian, and many other mixes of culture.  I kicked myself when I realized he's never even heard of Italy.  And even though "Peppino the Mouse" is one of his favorite songs, he thinks the lyrics are Spanish.  There are certain traits that he does not realize come from his Italian heritage - like his adoration for anything in the pizza/pasta family.  But he was completely unaware of his Italian roots - or any other cultural roots for that matter.

Part of this realization made me very sad that a culture that was so much a part of my life growing up is now so diluted in my childrens' lives.  But part of me thought that this conglomeration of nationalities in my seven year old boy illustrate not a lack of culture - but a true depiction of what American really looks like.

I was very tempted to have Ben create a heritage doll that was purely American.

But the part of me that used to claim I was 100% Italian persuaded me to make that same claim for Ben.  That's why his heritage doll is holding an Italian flag, and one gigantic salami pizza.