By Sharlene Nauta
I often tell my friends, "There are two types of people in this world: those who are Italian and those who wish they were." There’s just so much to love about the place! The history, the architecture, the music, the art, the people, the language—and don’t even get me started on the food. There’s no question as to why I have always had a deeply-ingrained pride for my Italian heritage. Although born in the United States, my dad is a second-generation, full-blooded Italian. My mother, who is not Italian, always calls us sickening because we constantly point out how all good things have some sort of connection to Italy, but we all know she wishes she was Italian too. That’s why she had to marry one!
Growing up with this Italian pride gave me the desire to learn my ancestral language. My father would speak bits and pieces of Italian in the home, but I could never quite get the language to stick. However, when I was older, I got the opportunity to go to Italy with my father. The paternal side of his family, which predominantly stayed in Italy, has lived in the same village of Cagnano Varano for over 400 years! We stayed with our cousins, Antonio and Vincenza, and their family who live there. Although we could hardly communicate, I felt such a strong love for them. After that trip, my desire to learn the Italian language deepened immensely.
When I was choosing a university, the option of taking Italian classes became a top priority for me. That’s one reason why I chose to study at Brigham Young University, where I continue to add Italian classes as a part of my regular schedule. Every time I sit down to study Italian, I pray for heavenly help with learning the language. This prayer, in addition to the newfound motivation after meeting my family, enabled me to become conversant in the language after just one year of study. Although I don’t speak Italian perfectly yet, I can now have meaningful conversations with my beloved family in Italy.
Words cannot describe the feelings I had while I was in my ancestral land. It forever changed me. My heritage became a reality for me. This reality had a special impact on my temple worship. My father was the first convert in his family, so we always have lots of temple work to do for our ancestors. I have always loved going to the temple for my ancestors, but after going to Italy and hearing stories of their lives, seeing the homes they grew up in, the chapel where they worshipped, the streets where they walked, and the sights they saw, I realized they are just as real as the living cousins I know and love in Cagnano Varano. My ancestors are no longer just names in my family tree. They are people I love, long to help, and hope to see someday. I have become more aware of them and often feel them near as I search their records or bring their names to the temple. Just as I was able to have a wonderful reunion with my living family in Italy, I now look forward to the day when I can meet all these Italian ancestors who came before us.
Now I am not just proud of being Italian because of its great history and delicious food. I love my heritage. I love my family there. I love walking where my ancestors walked for centuries. It means so much to me to know they left that beautiful land to come to America in hopes of providing a bright future for their posterity, for me. Learning Italian to reconnect with my roots and performing temple ordinances for my ancestors are small tokens of my gratitude for all they’ve done. I hope to live up to their legacy. I will forever be proud to be Italian!
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