Writing Assignment 9: Identity

I was perplexed, perhaps even overwhelmed, by the question presented , "what and who is Italian?" My immediate reaction was, who am I to answer such a complex question?  I have been a resident of Rome for less than three months, during which my most intimate interactions were with other Americans.  I speak only the most rudimentary of Italian. To present a complete and accurate theory about Italian or even Roman identity would require a lifetime of integration in Italian society, and perhaps even then the answer is not accessible to outsiders for they can only mimic what it feels like to be Italian, unable to deconstruct the borders so rigidly in place. The question, in truth, is not even a single question, Italian encompasses so much more than a single homogenous populace.  What and who is gypsy? What and who is a Moroccan immigrant to Italy? What and who is Neapolitan? Plagued by these thoughts I was unable to find the words within myself to answer that question.  I do not know the answer to that question.  Do not ask me to gift-wrap Italy into an easily palatable souvenir to take home.
Eventually inspiration struck in the form of a long train ride, a powerful song and the writings of someone more experienced than myself.  In an essay entitled 'On Curiosity' Alain de Botton writes, "Curiosity might be pictured as being made up of chains of small questions extending outwards, sometimes over huge distances, from a central hub composed of a few blunt, large questions.  In childhood we ask, 'Why is there good and evil?' 'How does nature work?' 'Why am I me?' If circumstances and temperament allow, we then build on these questions during adulthood". It is that final of the three questions that resonated with my struggle to define Italian identity.  This fermented for about an hour until shuffle decided to instigate my thought process with Journey's "Don't Stop Believing" an intensely emotional song for me personally.  The song provoked a moment of introspection and I queried, ‘Why does this song have such a profound effect upon me?’ ‘Why is it I that cling so tightly to the concept of Journey being my favorite band?’  Because it is idiosyncrasies such as this that define me, that are the building blocks of my identity.  As this thought permeated my consciousness my recent reading bubbled to the forefront.  In tandem they provided me with the answer to my conundrum. If as de Botton suggests all questions surrounding identity originate from that single query, ‘Why am I me?’ then maybe that is where I should begin my search for Italian identity. I was only looking at the question from a single angle; perhaps through answering how Italy has affected my own identity some insight may be gained into an aspect of Italian identity.
It is not the Italians of today, those contemporary, increasingly globalized people, that I feel have truly had a profound impact me. Perhaps that is because I did not present them with the opportunity to change me, but at this juncture that is no more than the whisper of regret. The Italians who invaded my thoughts and usurped my dreams are the men long lost to history, now more legend than man. Agrippa Borromini, Da Vinci, Michelangelo, Bernini these are the names that I will remember, poignant examples of what man is capable of achieving.  It is certainly arguable that I am straying from the original focal point of Italian identity, that these men, the youngest of which died 330 years ago, no longer represent what it is to be Italian.  However, I would argue that these men by the very virtue of their reputation’s longevity serve as paragons of Italian identity.  It is quite short-sighted to conclude that Italian identity, an identity that has existed for millennia, is defined solely by the Italians alive in our present, it is a cumulative concept, each generation building upon the layers passed down to them. These men in particular should still be considered active members of Italy for they have left their mark quite literally and visually. Is it not true that Italians take national pride in The David, The Pantheon, Pluto and Persephone and any number of other edifices and sculptures left behind by Italy’s artisans and architects? If these artifacts are associated with what is “Italian” how can their creators be anything but integral pieces of what it means to be Italian.
This is what I am taking away from Rome, Inspiration.  As I may have verbalized in a previous blog entry this voyage was not about academics, so much as it was about puzzling together who I am, and what it is I should do with this whole life thing.  While the puzzle is by no means solved my experiences abroad have certainly added a piece or two and hopefully in the process I have added a piece or two to Italian identity as well.