Italian Heritage Month: A Personal Reflection

By Angela Guarino Sawaya

It is such an honor to celebrate Italian American Heritage Month — un momento per riconoscere la nostra cultura, le nostre famiglie, e la nostra eredità — a time to recognize our culture, our families, and the incredible legacy of Italian Americans where honor, family, loyalty, and integrity always came first.

For me, today isn’t just an event — è personale! It’s personal.

My parents immigrated to this country through Ellis Island in 1966, just after they were married. Sono arrivati con solo $300 dollari in tasca. They came with only $300 in their pocket — their wedding money — and a dream for a better life.

My father found work in a factory in Boston’s North End, where he made suits, and my mom soon realized she was pregnant with me. When I started school, Mom got a job at Filene’s Basement and worked as a paraprofessional in the Boston Public Schools while attending school at night to get her many degrees. Back in Italy, she had been an accountant and a teacher, but like so many immigrants, she had to start over.

They lived in Boston’s North End — the heart of Italian-American life in the city, il cuore della vita italo-americana. They worked hard. They sacrificed. And they never gave up. Eventually they bought a building with relatives on Prince Street — a home we still own today — and later settled in our beautiful City of Revere.

My father, an Army vet, opened a tailor shop with my uncle. It was called Italian Tailoring, and it became a well-loved staple of the neighborhood. Un negozio che tutti conoscevano e amavano. Everyone knew them. Everyone loved them.

Mia madre mi ha insegnato a cucinare da piccola. My mom taught me to cook at a very early age, and those are memories I treasure deeply. I cooked lunch for my dad when I came home from school. The values my parents taught —  il rispetto, il lavoro, e la famiglia — respect, hard work, and family — shaped who I am today. So, when people say to me, “Wow, you never stop!” it’s because of my parents and the work ethic they instilled in me.

I can still smell the food we grew up with — la pastina, pasta e fagioli, la tripa, le braciole, le lumache in sugo (periwinkles in tomato sauce), as well as l’alice (smelts) and calamari on Friday.

Our house was filled with traditions, and when our parents asked us for help, we never said no — Mai dicevamo no!

I remember my father making vino (wine) in the basement and the long weekends jarring tomatoes, making 🇮🇹 pepperoni al aceto (vinegar peppers), pepperoni imbottiti con prosciutto e provolone (stuffed cherry peppers), pickled melanzane (eggplant), and even la fonga (wild mushrooms). Those little moments taught me not just about food, but about culture, patience, and pride. Sono le momenti che mi hanno insegnato della cultura, la pazienza e l’orgoglio.

On Sundays, after a long eight-course meal, we had our routine: we’d fare una passeggiata, head to Revere Beach, ride the amusements, go to Bob’s Discount, and end up surrounded by family and friends.

It’s so meaningful to me now, especially in my role as a City Councillor in Revere.  Camminare per le stesse strade e servire la comunità che mi ha cresciuta è un onore immenso — to walk the same streets and serve the same community that shaped me — where I spent Sundays at the beach with my family — it’s an incredible, full-circle moment because I actually moved to Revere Beach.

Growing up in an Italian family was something truly special. My parents saved every penny they could and took us back to Italy every summer. We spent our entire summer with I nonni. Each time we went back, we were treated like royalty. They would prepare for months, hanging the prosciutto and getting the formaggio ready so there would be an abundance. The entire town would know that l’Americane were coming, and we were always welcomed by the entire città.

We were — and still are — loud, emotional, passionate. Arguments? Always. But they never lasted long. Everything was forgotten and forgiven before dessert. Sunday dinners were sacred — big tables, loud voices, incredible food, and always family. Sempre famiglia!

And Natale? Christmas? Era magico. It was magical.

Today, we still celebrate the Feast of the Seven Fishes, and I dread the day that tradition fades. It’s not just about the food — it’s about everything that meal represents: honor, love, family, loyalty, and our shared history.

Everything we do as Italians, we do per la famiglia. That’s who we are. That’s what grounds us.

And in today’s world, where people can feel more disconnected than ever, sono molto grata di essere cresciuta in una cultura dove la famiglia significava tutto — I am grateful that I grew up in a culture where family meant everything.

And in our Italian-American communities — like Revere — it still does.

As we celebrate Italian Heritage Month in Revere, we aren’t just looking back. We’re honoring the legacy that shaped us and celebrating the traditions that still live on — the courage of our parents and grandparents, the laughter, the loudness, the food, the faith. That’s what made our families strong.

From the tailor shop to the kitchen table, to Revere Beach — I carry all of that with me ogni giorno — every day.

Insieme come una famiglia — together, like one family — we continue to celebrate our heritage, our traditions, and our pride here in the beautiful città di Revere.

(Angela Guarino Sawaya is the ward 5 city councillor)