Conceptions of Citizenship and Culture
Joshua O’Brien
Anise seed has a distinct aroma. I cannot describe it, other than to say it is steeped in culture for me. Anise seed is the key ingredient in ciamella, a braided ring-shaped bread my nonna makes. Ciamella is one of the cultural imports my nonna and her son—my late grandfather—brought to America in the 1950s. I saw that side of my family rarely—my mom had moved away from New York and her father and travelling to see them was expensive. Yet I still learned to love my nonna’s cooking, and I learned fragments of Italian. Mostly, I learned the swear words.
My grandfather was naturalized as an American citizen sometime in the 1970s, and along with his naturalization, the Italian government stopped viewing him as a citizen. He was no longer an Italian national legally, though I trust he still identified as Italian, along with the rest of my family in New York.
My own story contrasts, funnily enough. I am Italian, but I do not speak the language. I do not live with my Italian family. I have never been to Italy. But I can claim Italian citizenship. Rome let's descendants of Italian emigrants claim citizenship within certain parameters. Since my grandfather was naturalized after my mother’s birth, I can claim citizenship through her. Part of me is giddy about this development—I can claim citizenship to a European country! I can claim a small piece of familial legacy and culture, formalized in paper.
And that is where the other part sets in—the cognitive dissonance. With the generational removal from Italy, I never felt fully Italian. Amongst my family I always had an ounce of imposter syndrome. I am a dearly loved and forever welcome member of the family, but I always felt just a little closer to a member that had married into the family than a member born with the full rites and honors of an Italian citizen. Of course, the ability to claim an Italian passport legitimizes my feeling and my heritage to me. I may not speak the language, nor know the full traditions, but I am Italian. The Italian government thinks so! Or…they will if I ever fill out the paperwork.