The Italian Language is Alive and Well at The Lodge and The Pandolo Center

Fraser Smith, News Director for Your Public Radio (WYPR-FM), recently visited The Little Italy Lodge, Order Sons of Italy in America, in Baltimore, Maryland, and told listeners of his experiences during that visit.

   They sail back to their Italian roots on waves of nostalgia. A little older, typically, and with more time, they enroll in classes they always wanted to take. On Fridays, many of them practice with their friends.
   In Little Italy, they convene at the Sons of Italy Lodge, which is located between the bocce courts and the one-time elementary school of St. Leo's Catholic Church, which is located a block away. At the Lodge, where membership has tripled to more than 600, over the last few years, they tell stories about growing up amid the aromas of Italian cooking and the nearly-caloric language spoken around their kitchen table.
   They remember, too, that their language and culture was suppressed outside their houses because it was important then to be thoroughly American. But now they're recovering and telling stories of immigrant parents and grand-parents and about the not-always welcoming atmosphere they found in this country.
   The memories are easier to discuss today because those lamentable days are gone. And, the stories are told for the most part by people who prospered in their adopted country, la Stati Uniti, and they love it as much as they love Italy.
What they love most of all is the language of Italy and they are fiercely determined to master it. Louis Florenzo, a retired prison psychologist who lives in Columbia, Maryland, comes to the Friday night discussions because he's delving deeply into various records so he can learn as much as he can about his family. He's inspired by what he knows about his father's experiences here.
   Florenzo explains, "My father was a janitor at a hospital and there were two nurses who were sisters and they took him under their wing. And when he worked , one worked and the other one was at home. They would make him talk on the phone to the sister at home--in English--which forced him to pronounce words properly. They also sat him down and taught him how to read and write English. It is a great country."
   Frank Verde, whose grand-father grew up in Little Italy, urged officials of the Lodge to establish the Friday Night Italian-speakers-only table. The table has a red cloth, the only one in the expansive hall, and it's known to the regulars as "the red table" or "the table."
   Mr. Verde's memories of growing up include the war years. "I recall my grandfather had his radio confiscated. And, I refused to learn Italian because they were the enemy (during World War II). I didn't want people to know I was Italian. I refused to learn Italian because I was ashamed.
"Obviously, that has reversed. I'm very proud to be Italian."
Pride is a major motivator and the motivated student is encouraged to take risks, to learn from mistakes amid a forgiving atmosphere.
   Every week they struggle to shift their thinking from English to Italian. It's a challenge they eagerly accept.
   Rosalie Ranieri, whose husband, Salvatore, is president of the Lodge, started the school seven years ago at the suggestion of the late St. Leo's pastor, Rev. Oreste Pandola, SAC. The classes are flourishing.
   Twenty-five or thirty students came to the first session but now the student body is more than 200 for the Thursday evening classes being held in The Rev. Oreste Pandola Adult Learning Center, the one-time elementary school that closed in 1980.
   Says Principal Ranieri, "I think people are discovering what a beautiful language Italian is and after being suppressed for many years, people now want to discover their roots and to speak the language of their forefathers."
   Other explanations for the expanded interest abound. It's the bread and wine, I suggest. Luigi Florenzo agrees, observing "Yes, particularly the wine."
   Teacher Sylvana Ferrante, a native speaker who came to the United States at the age of 21, comes to the Italian table ogni venerdi, every Friday, to preside over her class of passioned students. "People are very interested in the Italian language," she says. And, they want to know more about their heritage.
   "Most of the people I get at the Learning Center are of Italian descent who want to know where their family came from and they also want to talk Italian," says Ferrante.
Mr. Verde, who suggested the "red table, takes instruction once a week and goes to the Lodge on Friday evenings for the practice. "It's necessary," he says in Italian. "If you don't use it, you lose it."
   It has taken some time, but Americans, including Italian-Americans, have learned to appreciate the value of diversity.
Many of the students face two problems: learning the classic Italian and un--learning the Italian dialect they heard around the kitchen table growing up. Every region of Italy has a distinct dialect. Florenzo smiles at the two-part challenge. "A lot of what I learned was dialect so I say things people don't understand. If you ask me, "Do you speak Italian, I would say, "nu vogga,' but that's dialect from the mountains of the Abruzzi region. I should say "un poco."
   The Learning Center also offers Italian lessons for children, some as young as six. At the upper end of the student age scale is Clinton Bamberger. who is 70. Tall and very blond, he doesn't exactly look the part. Asked why he is taking Italian lessons, he answers with a laugh, "I've never been able to learn the language because my grandfather was a Sicilian."
The lucky learners are the young people. They don't have to un-learn anything and their minds are uncluttered with the world of work.
   Guy Matricciani, Sr., graduated from St. Leo's parish school in 1928. He watches the growth of the Italian student population with a measure of wonder. He says, "The community now is vibrant. People are here all the time now." Mr, Matricciani and his wife, Agatha, come to the Lodge on Friday nights to eat dinner and play cards. Frequently, St. Leo's pastor, Rev. Mike Salerino, SAC, joins the men's games.
Maria Pica, whose late father was a Baltimore City Councilman, has adopted a total-immersion approach to her heritage because, "finally, she has the time." She recently returned from Italy. She saw the Pope, went to Christmas Eve Mass at St. Peter's. She memorized beforehand about what she does in the U.S. so she could explain to her relatives in Italy.
   So, it's a matter of time, but it's more than that. It's responding to the rhythms of the Mother Tongue, almost literally resonating to that deep place that defines us all.
Roberto Marsili, a Little Italy fixture, offers the Benediction: "e un cosa bello"-it's a beautiful thing,
###