A View of Childhood Seventy Years Later
"I can't believe it's been nearly seventy years since I was last here," Rosalia said to herself as she came up from the F train at Delancey Street, right where the Lower East Side meets Little Italy, right where the Italian-Jew grew up. Rosalia, her official Italian name that her family eventually shortened to Rose. "All the buildings are the same, but everything looks so new."
"Is this really where you grew up?" Asked Alessandra, Rose's eight year old granddaughter who accompanied her on the trip back home.
"That building right there. I rode this subway everyday to get to work. Things were very different back in the old days. it was much more crowded and a lot dirtier. And see that building in the back over there? The big white one? That wasn't there when I was growing up."
"You're older than a building grandma!" Alessandra joked.
"I'm older than a bunch of things here, Allie. Most of this wasn't here when I moved here." The tone of Rosalia's voice changes and she starts to miss the old days. The girls are walking quietly when Alessandra says, "When did you move to New York?"
"It's a long story to tell, do you want to hear it?"
"Of course! I wanna know everything!" Rose and Allie walk into an old fashioned pizzeria and take a table.
"Well. When I was a little girl, only about five or six years old, back in 1942 in the middle of world war two, I remember my grandma walk into my room in the middle of the night to wake me up. Oh, and we lived in Italy when this all happened. In the dark, we snuck to a dock in Sicily, I think it was. We boarded the boat and as my mother described it, I fell asleep in her arms, scared and confused as to what was happening. Little did I know, where were on that boat for the next two and a half weeks on our journey to America. My family had tried explaining to me what was happening but I was clueless and couldn't understand a thing. Now remember, it was the middle of World War II. They told me that everything was fine back in Italy, but just to be extra safe we were coming to America, where we wouldn't have to worry. Those two weeks were miserable: stuck on a boat full of screaming babies, children like myself, adults, elderly, and people who were sick, all crammed together in this small area in the middle of the ocean. At last, the boat docked and we got off at Ellis Island where we went through health checks and security. We found my great uncle who took us to his apartment, right across the hall from where we would eventually move. I had my favorite doll in my hand and a backpack with some of my favorite clothes. A short while after, we moved across the hall into a two room apartment of our own-a bedroom to fit me, my two newborn sisters with a brother on its way, two grandparents, and my mom and dad, and a room with a sink, stove, ironing board, and a piece of wood we would eat on. At eight years old, just your age, I got a job I'd have to go to after school babysitting some of the richest kids in the area and -"
"You were only eight years old and you got to babysit!?!?" Alessandra exclaimed. "I'm eight and I'm not even allowed to stay home alone! I have a babysitter because my mom thinks I'm a baby!" Rosalia laughed with Alessandra, who was beginning to lose focus on her grandmothers story. The girls giggled along while they finished their pizza.
"What are we gonna do now?" Alessandra asked.
"Do you want to go to the playground I went to a lot when I was a child? My old friends say it's still there."
"Yay! Let's go!" Alessandra got suddenly excited. The girls walked over to the playground and had fun together. "Is this really how you grew up?" Alessandra asked. "Did you actually go everyday to the playground by yourself after school and work?"
"Yes, we did, honey."
"And is this really the food you ate all the time? Because it's so good! My mommy doesn't make anything this good! She always buys yucky pizza with the picture of the square with dots on it! I never get any real homemade food unless I'm with you! And I never get to go to parks like this either." Alessandra was amazed by the things little boys and girls did in the 1900s.
"That's the biggest problem today. Cultures are fading away. Little Italy and the Lower East Side are beginning to look more like the rest of New York City than ever before. Right where I lived used to be made up of solely Italian Jews like myself. We were all immigrants and had the same story, which is why we could go out by ourselves. We all had the same exact traditions and we all knew each other. Cultures today are all blending together. It's great that they are mixing, but they are fading away in the process which is the bigger problem. I used to be able to speak multiple languages frequently, and still can, but people aren't passing traditions like that down to their children which is what's causing them to fade."
"Are you going to pass any of those traditions down to me?"
"Of course."
"Do my mommy and daddy have any of those traditions?"
"When I had your dad, I was just excited to get out of Little Italy a little bit and explore. I began to blend in with the general crowd of people I was surrounded by in Long Island before we moved here to Manhattan. It was hard and I didn't do as good of a job as I should have."
"Grandma?" Alessandra called. "Will you pass those traditions down to me? And teach me how to speak Italian and everything you used to do?"
"Of course sweetie. Just you have to promise me one thing: don't let them slip away. Promise me that you'll pass these traditions to your children."
"I can do that."
"Lo ti amo, tesora."
A picture of Little Italy/Lower East Side when Rosalia was growing up.
A picture of Little Italy/Lower East Side when Alessandra and Rosalia went for a visit in around 2005.
A map of Lower Manhattan, showing the streets of Little Italy and the Lower East Side