Artwork in My Community

Although I’ve lived in the same neighborhood my entire life I’ve never really been part of a community. My parents and I never socialized with the neighbors or went to church at the local parish. The only group with which I have been consistently involved is my family. While my house was in Floral Park, my home was in Glendale.

For the first eight years of my life, I practically lived with my grandparents. Everyday they would pick me up from school and take me home to their house on Woodhaven Boulevard. We ate lunch and dinner together everyday, played games, and watched television. When I was sick, they were the ones who took care of me. My Nonna and Nonno were my second set of parents and they had lots of help. My dad’s Aunt Josephine, Uncle Mike and twin cousins Lucy and Lisa only lived a few blocks away, as did my dad’s Aunt Rose and his sister Cathy. If I wasn’t at my Nonna and Nonno’s house I was at Aunt Jo’s.

Lucy and Lisa babysat me all the time. We had deep sea adventures on the floor of the living room, played pirate ship on the top shelf of their bunk beds, and hopped from couch to couch trying not to “step on the lava.” We sang songs like “Baby Beluga” and played dress up with their fantastic collection of hats and jewelry.

Holidays were completely insane! My dad’s Aunt Gina did Thanksgiving, Aunt Joe did Christmas, and Nonna did Easter. Each had a different way of accommodating the 40 people who would all need to be eating at the same time. Seated on folding chairs and on couches all over the house, with no elbowroom we would eat 7 course meals and talk. Each holiday had it’s own traditions. Thanksgiving we played charades, Christmas we sang carols and played cards, and Easter we had egg hunts in the backyard.

In this community, which I am extremely proud to be a part of, different forms of art are everywhere. Every meal for instance is a culinary masterpiece, delicious, savory, and aesthetically pleasing. For Italians food is sacred! Eating is what we do.

But, there is another more traditional form of artwork displayed in the homes of all of my family members. In every house, on every clear surface, there are hundreds of pictures. Mostly taken by Lucy, who is a professional photographer, these pictures are sacred. They document our family’s history and traditions and remind us of what is truly important. The one thing that is not exaggerated in the stereotypes about Sicilians is the loyalty we feel towards our families.  The “if you mess with one of us, you mess with all of us” mentality is completely true.  My family is my life.

So these shrines, these thousands of pictures are more than just art because of the emotional resonance they have for our entire family. They aren’t just pretty pictures of scenery or interesting images of people. They are representations of who we are and where we come from. They are, in essence, an artistic depiction of our lives.