My Italian Culture

Italian Fascism is an authoritarian and nationalistic system of government and social organization, it was the political result of the relationship between socialist and nationalist rhetoric. It is a form of governance which employs intolerant views and practices, advocating traditionalism, interventionism and sameness rather than individualism. In order to promote their totalitarian ideals during the 1930s to 1945 fascist politicians such as Benito Mussolini, who had previously been a socialist newspaper editor, employed propaganda that included virtually all modes of media: the press, posters and film. The widespread dissemination of totalitarian ideals infiltrated into the school system where young Italians born from 1910 to 1935 were taught to “obey and fight.” The purpose of this paper is to analyse the diffusion of the Italian Identity through fascist propaganda from 1922-1943 and the identity that was diffused as a result of the exploitation of Mussolini’s various propaganda mediums. Did fascist propaganda contribute to the diffusion of an Italian identity? If so, what identity was diffused?

Mother is Irish and Italian, was born in the United States, and raised in Englewood, N.J. Mother’s mother is Irish. Irish American mothers tend to remain home to care to their homes or children, and this is what mother’s mother did. Mother’s father is Italian. Italian American fathers tend to be

I am Mexican-American. I am also happy to identify myself as such. My parents came to America when they were teenagers so up until this day, some of those traditions from Mexico are still carried with them today. These traditions were then brought down to me. They also became accustomed to the way people do things here in America, so it was very easy for me growing up, having the best of both worlds.

My cultural ancestry comes from a Cuban and Mexican decent. I have chosen to write about my Cuban side because I can relate to them more than I could with my Mexican side. I was raised around my Cuban family and would occasionally see my Mexican side due to them living so far away. I have spent a lot more time associating with Cubans and have adapted to more of their habits.

Not keeping in touch with your cultural can make you feel lost because it is part of your ethnic background. It makes you feel like you just do not belong. Leticia Salais’s “Saying Adios to Spanglish” published 2007, Salais chose not to speak her native language in public because she was embarrassed by it and related it to poverty. Salais went to great lengths to hide her native language and culture from the public for professional gain not realizing that her native language and culture connects her to her ethnic background.

A sudden change in one’s surroundings can result in culture shock. Culture shock refers to the anxiety and surprise a person feels when he or she is discontented with an unfamiliar setting. The majority of practices or customs are different from what a person is used to. One may experience withdrawal, homesickness, or a desire for old friends. For example, when a person goes to live in a different place with unfamiliar surroundings, they may experience culture shock. Sometimes it is the result of losing their identity. In the article “The Phases of Culture Shock”, Pamela J. Brink and Judith Saunders describe four phases of culture shock. They are: Honeymoon Phase, Disenchantment Phase, Beginning Resolution Phase, and Effective

I consider myself to be a white Irish-Italian American woman. My mother was born in Belfast, Northern Ireland and my paternal grandparents are from Sicily, Italy. I imagine being first generation Irish and second generation Italian makes me identify more with my ethnicity.

In the memoir ‘Pointing North’, Paolo Totaro finds that despite having barely any memories of Italy and having spent most of her life in Australia, “fitting in” is not easy. Paolo Totaro pointed out that many of her hardships originated in the schoolyard – “They too figured it was too hard to pronounce, so Greasy Wog became my moniker.” She noticed that throughout her child, many people overlooked her feelings and simply labelled her as a “hysterical Italian”. Paolo stated that she doesn’t “remember any other non-Aussie kids at school” and wondered whether she would have felt as if she belonged if she were not the only foreigner. She found that as others treated her as an outsider, she clung

Many people used to think that their heritage means nothing to them, but for me it means a lot. Growing up my family would always talk in Spanish or they would talk about how they love being Mexican, but I never fully understood why being Mexican was so important to my family. One day I decided to sit down with my parents, and ask them why is our Mexican heritage so important? They would tell me all sorts of stories such as: how they were apart of a dance group called Ballet Folklorico De Topeka, my mom would always tell me how she likes listening/singing to music. Me personally Mexican music is so much better than songs in English. Why I say that is because Mexican music is so much more poetic.

I am the youngest of five sisters and two brothers. My family is Mexican- American, both of my older brothers were born in Mexico and were brought by my parents at a very young age. My parents were also born in Mexico and like every immigrant migrated from their home countries to pursue what is called the American dream. I very much enjoy being from Mexican roots, because my traditions, foods, dances, culture and kindness makes me who I am today. I have three nieces and one nephew from the ages six on down. We are all Mexican American ancestry.

As an Italian-American, I was and am still told by my mother, grandparents, and great-grandparents how proud I should be of my heritage. I was taught to respect my great-grandmother who, after arriving in America along side her husband, fully committed herself to raising her four sons and eight nieces and nephews in a two-bedroom house in Pennsylvania. She was motivated by the drive of a better life in a new, strong country for the young-ones she loved. I was taught to treasure both food and family, praying each night through the Blessed Mother. I was handed Pizzelles and Almond cookies as snacks throughout the day, and listened to Dean Martin through the stereo almost every night. My grandmother’s family came from Mezzogiorno, while my grandfather’s family hailed from the North Country. Though I had never been to Italy, as a child, I still knew the significance of being Italian and was thankful. It was not until I entered public school that I began to understand the teasing that my own ethnic group was subject to on a near daily basis.

It looked like the sun had given up on trying to break through the iron curtain of clouds that it decided to lounge behind them. As we nervously walked towards the battle of our lives, the castle silhouetted behind us like someone faintly saying goodbye. The narrow barren streets were scattered with muculent mud and broken decomposed parts of the castle lay beside it reminding us that danger was slowly approaching. The street was a skeleton, stripped of its flesh. All that remains was the broken parts of the concrete structure. Quiet and derelict. The street was a river of the rusted burnt charcoal like concrete parts of the castle. Perhaps years back this street was immersed in pools of yellow light from the assaulted street lamps. Walking past the street lamps made the scent of burnt smoke go inside me like a barren soul. The street lamps were concealing us and we were inferior to the street lamps. The street lamps were covering us with darkness reminding us of the danger ahead of

Italy holds a long and rich history, starting from how it became one country during ancient times. For thousands of years, people have lived in Italy, relying on its vast amount of assets and resources. There was no established group of settlers to arrive first, because the chief pioneers entailed many different types of people who spoke different languages. Italy was at first preceded by several non-Italian cultures, including Greeks. The Greeks occupied southern Italy, including areas around Sicily. This remained a wealthy extent of land because of the tremendously fertile soil, which then caused the sprout of new cities and civilization. These Greek cities ultimately stood taken over by Roman control. As far as northern city-states, the Etruscans lived in areas influenced by Greek culture. The Etruscans stayed well-known engineers, builders, and traders. Italy was always back and forth in the control of foreign authorities, but finally landed in the power of the Roman Empire. The Roman Empire took over at about 450 B.C., but eventually collapsed. The land that now stands as Italy was ruled by Julius Caesar. There were many civil wars before and after Julius Caesar’s death. The land was then restored by Octavian, Caesar’s son, who later passed his throne to his son Tiberius. Although ancient Italy had been taken over by diverse commands, it still held on to its vast culture and

Few things identify Italians as well as food, “the cross-cultural consumption of Italian cuisine is a significant marker of the way in which others see and imagine Italy and the Italians.” Food is cultural artifact. The Italian culture lives to eat. Where as, the American culture eats to live. Food is a way of life in Italy, not just a way to survive.

My family is very diverse and comes from many different places. My maternal grandmother came to the United States from England when she was 18 and met my biological grandfather. They lived in Montana on Flathead Indian Reservation. This is where my mother was born and raised. When my mother was in high school, she met my