Berkley Center

Upon reading Caitlin DeLaurentis' October 14 letter, I was struck by how similar her experience in Ireland regarding Catholicism has been to mine in Italy. Like Caitlin, I entered my semester abroad expecting to perceive a prevailing sense of religious identity within Florence and its people. Although I have certainly found that the city’'s art and architecture glorify the country'’s Catholic history, the majority of Italians with whom I have spoken say that faith does not play a significant role in their daily lives.

Our professors here who are familiar with Georgetown generally seem to assume that we, as students who have chosen to attend a Jesuit university, will be much more religious than the Italian students they teach. This assumption certainly makes more sense than my own; it was clearly silly of me to think that most Italians, based only on the fact that they live in a country with a strong religious heritage, would identify themselves as spiritual. Realizing my mistake started me thinking about the ways in which, when faced with trying to understand a new group of people, we often associate cultural symbols with individual characteristics.

A discussion that took place during my basic Italian class several weeks ago pushed me to think more about this point. We were reviewing classroom vocabulary, and we had just learned the meaning of ‘la bandiera—flag.’ “It is clear that this Italian book was written for Americans,” our professor told us, pointing to the object we had just pronounced, "because the word ‘flag’ doesn't have much to do with the experience of the Italian student.”" Unlike most American schools, which require or encourage (depending on the state) the placement of flags in every classroom, it is rare to find them in Italian institutions. She told us that one is much more likely to come upon a different symbol—the crucifix.

In the 1920’s, the Italian government made the hanging of the cross compulsory in every national classroom. Although the law was much less strictly enforced after 1984 when Catholicism ceased to be the official state religion, crucifixes still hang in most Italian classrooms. A huge international debate began last year when, in November, the European Court of Human Rights ruled that the display of the crucifix in school infringed upon the rights of non-Catholic Italian families. Although the appeals process for the case continues today, the controversy that it incited provides an interesting vantage point from which to examine the country’'s religious past. Many opponents of the ruling maintain that all Italian people can embrace the crucifix as a national symbol rather than just a religious one. Others have responded that that very suggestion detracts from its spiritual importance.

Learning a little more about this debate led me to think again the prevalence of the American flag that our Italian professor had pointed out. In elementary, middle, and high school, the presence of the flag always seemed natural to me. I never considered that someone looking in at the situation from the outside might consider me especially patriotic, or that the fact that I was so used to the flag actually did make me more patriotic (at least according to their impression). I'm interested in thinking about what other symbols I've overlooked in the American way of life that do or do not serve as strong indications of culture, and the symbols of the Italian way of life that I have believed to be too indicative of the Italian people.