Since I was born, my social life centred around “Italian things.” As a kid, there were countless big Italian weddings, feasts, folk dance shows, festivals in the park, scampagnate (picnics), and paesani (people from the same town/village) coming and going. I didn’t think twice about it at the time… except when I got a little older and was in the “this is embarrassing” phase. It took a while for me to realize the privilege these "Italian things” were, and are.
Talking about community is complicated because a group of people is never a monolith, even if they’re all from the same small village in the Apennine mountains. Nevertheless, these little Italian communities sprung up in the form of social and mutual aid groups throughout the 20th century, to provide services and support to new immigrants. Though there have been many iterations of these groups - from those formed under and for the fascist government to promote pride in their Italian “colonies” abroad,1 to cultural organizations - I will be focusing on the meaning of the town/village associations to me. These groups were formed by Molisan paesani and named after the village they had emigrated from.
In the case of Molisan associations, the earliest established in Montreal was the “Société de Secours Mutuel des Citoyens de Casacalenda” (mutual aid society for the citizens of Casacalenda). This year, they are celebrating their 100th anniversary (founded in 1924 and incorporated in 1925) and are simply known as the Associazione Casacalendese. Many more followed throughout the century, with a particular boom from the 60s to the 80s. By the late 80s, at least 40 Molisan associations were members of the Federazione delle associazioni molisane del Québec, which was created in 1983 to unite and support all groups and clubs from the region.
Offering mutual aid, financial (literally providing loans and services, in the past) and moral support, as well as cultural representation, these associations grew in number and in size, as they responded to vulnerabilities and very real community needs. My family have been part of two of these associations for generations: Associazione Sant’Anna di Cantalupo di Montreal, formed in 1966, and Associazione di fraternità Santa Maria del Molise, formed in 1975. As a kid, these groups were so ingrained in my life that it was impossible for me to distinguish the familiar faces as paesani or family. Actually, paesan’ for me meant family. Some of my earliest memories are of the association meetings held in my nonni’s basement. These people have known me since I was born.
You can even say that I was born thanks to these associations: my parents met when my maternal nonna went to my paternal nonni to recruit my dad and uncles to join the Santa Maria folk dance group (a group that my sister and I later danced in, too). The rest is history.
Digging Deeper
I loved the association events as a kid. There were games, friends, and sometimes even gifts: at our annual Christmas banquet, all the kids would gather on the dance floor and sing at the top of our lungs for “Santa,” who brought us these orange net-like stockings full of toys, which we would tear into immediately after receiving them. With the Santa Maria association, the committee would even organize a huge party in the park for the patron saint day. There, we would have face painting, sausage panini, a huge raffle (there was always a bike and a La-Z-Boy), and a performance by the folk group. At a certain point, it became too expensive for the association to rent out the park. The procession route got shorter and the meal hosted in the basement of the local church. The folk dance group disbanded.
Around this time, I was older and less eager to participate. The community felt stifling, insular; and I felt embarrassed to be too associated with these things. I distanced myself, but was always “roped in” some way or another due to my family’s involvement. And so I attended and I helped, but I did so huffing and puffing. I wasn’t alone: throughout the 21st century, many of our associations have been hit hard by dwindling participation, aging memberships, and a general sense of redundancy. On top of this, the folkloric aspects of the associations have been, over the years, dismissed by some for depicting the community as stuck in the past and there have been calls to show that Italian-Canadian identity goes beyond them. While I think this is a complex issue, I don’t 100% agree with it anymore.
As a response to this feeling, there have been movements over the last decade by younger generations to add the contemporary Italian identity to older-established communities here. While it’s important to realize that Italy is not the same place it was in 1950, the current Italian context is not ours.2 And we don’t have to feel ashamed or feel that it has to be. I want to be careful to not erase the importance of connecting with a 21st century Italy; I also don’t want to say that new waves of Italian immigrants are not invited into established communities or invited to shared their own italianità with us. I’m just saying that our histories, contexts, and identities - and the way we relate to them - are different. We can’t negate our lived experiences as backwards because they don’t look like Italy today.
Look, I’ll be the first to admit that there are many things that frustrate me about the “Italian community.”3 As an outwardly patriarchal culture, there are still spaces that I know women feel unheard, unseen, unwanted, and disrespected; nevermind the experiences of queer folks in the community, which have gone almost unacknowledged for two to three generations (Steve Galluccio’s Mambo Italiano was significant in the early 2000s; currently, there is a wonderful project spearheaded by Licia Canton of Accenti, called Queer & Italian-Canadian, which you should check out). There are still certain aspects of our history swept under the rug (ahem * fascism * ahem). The image of the mafioso continues to be used as a stereotype against us, and we rightfully rally against those who continue to insult our integrity us with this trope. But little is done to address the, sadly, real issue that does exist. Then, there are constant turf wars, ego clashes, and power struggles that make advancing important initiatives impossible. I won’t lie, there are some days where I wonder what the point is because all this is enough to make people walk away. Some have.
But there’s something worthwhile here, and that is the possibility of deep community connection, love, wrapped up in traditions that are not, in fact, stuck in the past, but a part of our present. This is what these town associations can offer us: they go beyond the generalized, often stereotypical and flattened invented identity of “Italian-Canadian.” The events and activities are steeped in stories that goes back generations. The ones that continue to survive are not stagnating because they need to adapt to remain relevant and relatable to younger generations. Though our nonni or bisnonni formed these associations for their own needs, that meaning and purpose has been lost. Not because we purposefully let them go, but because we don’t need them for the exact same reasons anymore. Instead, I think that we can turn to these associations to add depth and specificity to our understanding of our own second-third-fourth-etc. generation “Italian-Canadianess.”
In my adulthood, I have re-embraced these associations with open arms. Because they mean something to me in a way that the “Italian-Canadian community” does less. Because they’re not abstract entities. They’re real, concrete, flesh and blood. They’re family. What a privilege it is to know exactly where you come from. To know the people born there and listen to their stories, in their own language.4 Above all, beyond the cultural initiatives (which I think are super important, too), I look to the history of mutual aid and social connection in these associations as an example for the future. It is another privilege to know that you come from that tradition. Though what that looks like has changed, I hope the spirit of that community work allows the remaining associations to live on for generations to come.
In the past, while I have enjoyed learning about contemporary Italian pop culture and society, I have bristled at people outright saying that Italian-Canadians are stuck in the past. I’ve also mentioned quite a few things that frustrate me about our “community.” How do you deal with these issues in your understanding and navigation of your own identity (whether you are Italian-Canadian or not, I’m sure there are similar stories in other communities)?
If you are part of a cultural association: why did you decide to join? What challenges have you faced? What ideas and initiatives have worked for you lately?
Do you think these small-scale, “micro-identity” groups will remain relevant in the future? How? Why or why not?
Cass
Links
To learn more and/or connect with Molisan associations in Montreal, check out the Federazione’s website.
This is what they called Italian diaspora communities.
I’m specifically talking about the Italian-Canadian community that comes from immigrants who arrived in the 20th century here, and not the new wave of Italian immigrants who, of course, come from the contemporary Italian context. I think it’s great that they bring and share contemporary Italian culture with the greater community. It has allowed people of Italian heritage who grew up here in Montreal to learn about and connect with Italy in new ways, in addition to our lived experience of our culture through our families and associations.
I use quotations because, again, it is hard to talk about the community as a monolith, though that is the identifier we have.
Very warm post. I felt identified, I am also a descendant of the Italian community here on the other side of the continent: Buenos Aires, Argentina. Although here, many associations lost influence and people stopped going, we still have many examples of institutions with values. A great example is the "Italian Hospitals". They were founded by Italian immigrants and financed by donations from those who managed to make a small fortune in the country. Today in these hospitals, the care is excellent and the staff is very warm. We are proud of these.