Article by Phoenix writer Costanza Faldetta ’25:
I have stargazed about the American Dream ever since I can remember. Now actually being part of it has felt surreal: from the neighborhoods with huge houses with pools and perfectly mowed lawns, to barbecues and bonfires, wearing crocs and sweatpants (out of the house! That would never happen in Italy), house parties, football games and being a cheerleader. And even if these may be just stereotypes, I loved every single part of it.
It was an ordinary Friday, I woke up at the same time, and I got out of the bed from the same side. As I was finding my way to the kitchen, the smell of scrambled eggs and toast was, little by little, invading the staircase, and at that moment, I realized I wasn’t home.
Everything new, such as eating eggs and bacon for breakfast, was a challenge this year. Catching the iconic yellow bus which would take me to school instead of riding my Vespa, the packed hallways which made getting to class on time impossible, my teachers pronouncing foreign words which I failed to find on google translate, the freezing weather which caused my eyes to swell for the entire winter, and can we talk about “American” coffee?
Getting out of my comfort zone, I experienced many things for the first time, such as when I skied in Colorado, parasailed in Florida, rode roller coasters in New Jersey, flew on a helicopter above NYC, ice skated in Rockefeller Center, but also the disarming beauty of Long Beach’s sunsets, the symbolic flavor of a hot dog at a baseball game and the magical atmosphere of many concerts at Madison Square Garden.
However, the hardest challenge I encountered through my journey was to truly bond with someone. Yes, language, customs, social traditions and expectations all made relationship building difficult. Considering my stay in a completely new environment in such a short period of time, I had already taken into consideration the difficulties I would’ve encountered in immersing myself in an already formed place, where everyone already had their families and friends, their school routines, and their hobbies and sports. It wasn’t easy, but after many obstacles I can say I created relationships that will last forever. And I would have never made it without Kellenberg.
While an Italian school system only promotes studying, Kellenberg helps the student to learn, not just notions, but also values. Kellenberg especially raises students to be citizens of the future involving them completely, with clubs, activities, sports and faith. Kellenberg Memorial for me is not just a school, it was a growth path. Every single individual who works in the school shared something with me that I will forever keep secured in my heart. By never doubting me, the teachers helped me to regain the self esteem I had lost during my previous years in Italy. By creating new connections in areas I’d never have explored otherwise, my classmates introduced me to unforgettable memories like Six Flags and Carnegie Hall, the Christmas Student Concert and Blue and Gold. And cheer? Let’s just say my grandma still doesn’t understand what it is. I just tell her, in Sicilian, “È tipo ballare” – It’s like dancing. But cheer has been so much more than I can explain to my grandmother; by joining the cheer team, my coaches helped me to recognize my worth, understanding that if I want something enough, I can accomplish it.
As Americans say, “If there’s a will, there’s a way.” In Italy, having a “will” is valuable, but we Italians don’t always believe there is a “way”. Now, however, this American expression is my reality.
I can proudly and maturely say that I am changed and grown today. I arrived in a new continent alone, with a few belongings, many dreams that I never thought could’ve been achieved and I go back home with a great story to tell and enormous cultural luggage, or as we say in Italy, “un enorme bagaglio culturale.”
As an Italian on Long Island, I was exposed with all my fragilities, messe a nudo, laying bare, vulnerable: the distance from friendships new and old, from diverse routine and habits, from my family, especially my parents, my biggest supporters and role models.
But I learned how to fend for myself. My life here helped me to discover strengths I never knew I had. This was not just a year in my life, it was a life in a year. And even if this were just a little chapter in my lifetime, it made me realize how much I still have to write before completing my story.
I go back home with the awareness that while a part of my heart will always belong to America, another part will always stay in Italy; the American part of my heart will always taste like dreams, goals, achievements and future; the Italian part will always taste like family and values, pizza and salty water, laughs and culture. I will now forever have two homes.
