In Pursuit of Happiness

I root from many different cultures, but only one bloodline has been able to hold on to its heritage throughout the generations. I am, and always will be, proud to be Italian. My kids, although likely only being ¼ Italian with the last name ‘Donovan’, will still practice Italian traditions and be a part of our intricate family network. It is my heritage that has dictated how I live and what morals to follow. Ultimately, holding on to and embracing cultural traditions is the key to bonding and keeping a family together; Italian tradition provides us a with purpose, with family being the cornerstone to our life success.  

What you first need to understand is that in Italian culture, family always comes first; every step along my Nonno’s journey from Italy to Canada was for this purpose.  

Angelo Di Berardino was born on July 27, 1937, in Corvara, Italy, a small village in the center of Italy in a region called Abruzzo. At this time, the country was in the midst of the fascist Benito Mussolini dictatorship. Italy was in an economic depression in the 20s, and Benito Mussolini planned to fix that by dictating the daily lives of the Italian people. Factories, culture, and media were controlled by the government. Even the customary handshake was replaced by a fascist salute. By the 30s, Mussolini and Hitler became allies, planning to racially cleanse Europe of Jews. Because of this, thousands of Italians were leaving. The government also introduced rewards for women who gave birth, which then caused a massive spike in population. With the combination of a poor economy and a high population, it was hard to find work in Italy over the next few decades. My Nonno was in the same boat and struggled to find work to support his family. There were jobs, however, in the country’s main sector at the time, the mining industry. Italy was home to many coal, zinc, asbestos and mercury mines, but people were becoming much more educated about the dangers of working as a miner. My Nonno, being aware of the risks, opted out of choosing that industry for his occupation. He knew that if he wanted a better future for his wife and daughter, he would have to leave the country (ancestry.ca: Life in Fascist Italy).

(Fascist dictator Benito Mussolini standing next to German dictator Adolf Hitler)

Italians tend to migrate like birds, in flocks. Once one ‘paesano’ (Italian for fellow countryman) moves, many others will follow. My Nonno was split between moving to Toronto or Venezuela to start his new life. His father, brother, aunt and uncle were all living in Toronto, but everyone else from the village of Corvara had migrated to Venezuela (ancestry.ca). Family, being the top priority in Italian culture, led my Nonno to move to Toronto (Conte). His plan was to go alone for a few years until he had a steady job and could afford to bring his family over. Toronto was a good fit for immigrants because of a positive job outlook, causing the business powerhouse of Canada to become the home of many workers from across the world, contributing to the diversity of the city that still exists today.

Though I take pride in my Italian heritage, I do not wish I were living in Corvara, Italy instead of here in Orangeville. I have been fortunate enough to have been raised in a land full of opportunity, where no obstacle is too difficult to overcome. Other than culturally, life would be similar to Orangeville if I lived in northern Italy. The north is very well developed and there would be plenty of white collar jobs that I could do once I graduate university. Tuition prices would be the same in Italy as it is here. Also, their healthcare is comparable to Ontario’s with universal health care worked into the citizens' taxes. However, if I were to be living where my family lived in Corvara, in the central part of Italy, my life would be very different. My life would be very agricultural based as I would be living in a small village in the hills. I would have to travel a long way to get to the nearest school, and would likely be either attending school or working on the garden at home. Finding a job would be tough as there would be no international businesses (like McDonald's) for miles from my home. Any work I did find would be for small business owners, and since there is no minimum wage, I would likely be getting paid significantly less than I would in Canada.

The Journey

For generations, my ancestors on my mother's side have called Corvara, Italy home. My Nonno (Angelo) and his brother (Salvatore) changed that when they moved to Toronto in the mid-1900s. Salvatore, being the oldest, moved first; years later, in 1962 my Nonno followed. It was a long, solo journey from the small village in central Italy to the big city of Toronto; leaving his wife and daughter behind was likely the hardest part. The journey started with a southbound bus ride from Corvara to the nearest city, Torro Dei Passeri. From there, my Nonno took another bus, heading west. 100 kilometers later, he ended up in Rome where he then caught the southbound train to Naples (another 100 km journey). In Naples, he boarded The SS Michelangelo, the largest commercial passenger ship at the time, and spent weeks traveling across the treacherous Atlantic waters until he reached his destination in Halifax, Nova Scotia. The final leg of his journey was a train to Toronto, stopping in Montreal along the way (Conte).

(Bus and train routes from Corvara to Naples)

(SS Michalangelo)

On a side note, it seems as if history does repeat itself. Every weekend, I take a bus to the nearest big city (Brampton), where I then catch the train to Toronto in order to board the tallship that I sail on. This scenario is a reflection of my Nonno; maybe being on the water is in my blood after all.

Once in Toronto, my Nonno found odd jobs collecting pop bottles and cleaning floors for as little as .75￠per hour (McRae). He had a tough time in the workforce because of his mother tongue, but his charming personality and ability to pick up on English very quickly landed him a sales job for a painting company. This job was a great fit for my Nonno because of his personality. He was appropriately named: Angelo, meaning Angel in Italian, truly embodied the character of an Angel. He made a lasting impact on many lives through his kindness and compassion. “He treated me with respect”, said the local mailman, “and he gave me wine” (Donovan). The mailman, to whom my Nonno owed nothing to, was touched by his kind gestures and made sure that my Nonno knew just how appreciated he was by members of his community. It was his culture that shaped his actions towards others, treating everyone in his life as if they were family. It was ultimately his cultural traits that caused him to be loved by many and to be successful at his job.

My Nonno was always a hard worker, and I admire him for that. Up until the week before he lost his life to cancer in 2002, he had never taken a sick day in his life. In my Nonno’s eyes, work meant more than money; it gave his family the opportunity to live a happy life. Having such a powerful purpose gave him the strength to overcome any obstacle. In his final days, he told his wife of 46 years, “Ersie, it is you who gives me courage and strength” (Donovan).

This strong sense of family within traditional Italian culture is superior to modern society. Currently, in the Western world, we are told that there is always a way out of marriage and that once you turn 18 or get married, you become independent and are expected to move out of the house. In Italy, family is valued as a rock in one’s life, as they will always love and stick by you. With the Catholic religion (practiced by Italians), divorce is shunned upon and marriage is believed to be sacred. I see it too much here in Canada where families are being split apart. This causes a vicious cycle where children see their parents split apart and believe that it is normal for them to do the same when they are adults. I believe that traditional Italian culture is superior because it provides purpose within the family and encourages loyalty and love rather than temporary relationships.

I am proud to be Italian and to have descended from a loving family. Unfortunately, my Nonno passed away when I was 2 years old, so I only know him through stories. From everything I have gathered about him through tales told throughout my life or from research done during this project, I can say with certainty that my Nonno was a kind man who loved his family above anything else. I truly hope that one day I will get to follow in his footsteps by raising and loving my family until the day I die. Everything he did was for his family. It is sad that he hasn't been around to see me grow, but I know that he is always with me in spirit. I am honoured to have his jacket as an heirloom to remember him by, and I hope that if he is watching from above, I can one day make him proud.

Works Cited

“Angelo Di Berardino.” Ancestry.ca, 1 Jan. 2017, www.ancestry.ca/family-tree/person/tree/8439014/person/-947620740/story. Accessed 4 June 2017.

Conte, Mark. Telephone interview. 1 June 2017.

Donovan, Jim. “Eulogy for Angelo.” Funeral, Etobicoke, ON. Speech transcript.

“Life in Fascist Italy.” Ancestry.ca, 1 Jan. 2017, www.ancestry.ca/contextux/historicalinsights/fascist-italy/persons/-947620740:1030:8439014. Accessed 4 June 2017.

McRae, Ron. “Angelo Di Berardino.” Typescript.