Features
Country tug of war
By Greg Miceli ’20
November 17, 2016
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Have you ever asked your- self what it would be like to give up everything you have and live in another country? I have asked myself this question, multiple times. My name is Gregorio, and I haven’t figured out yet to what country I belong. I was born to an American father and an Ital- ian mother in a little rural town in Southern Italy named Spilinga, one of those that you might have heard about from your grandpar- ents. The primary resource of the economy for my small town is food; products like milk, beans, wine and a typical spicy salami you might have never heard of: the ‘nduja.
Living in a small town like Spilinga is not very exciting until you find out that you are related somehow to everyone you meet. By the end of elementary school, I figured out that out of 2000 citizens, almost 75 percent were related to me, though indirectly.At that time, my parents were looking for a job, and Southern Italy did not offer many opportunities. We moved to different cities in Northern Italy where people did not like my dif- ferent accent or my origins. After many years living in cities like Pe rugia, Messina and Taurianova,my father found a job in Vibo Valentia, Calabria, but my mother did not. I was just starting middle school, and my little brother was in his third year of elementary school.
For those who do not know, Vibo Valentia (or just Vibo) is famous for two things: the highest number of cafes per square foot of land and the greatest number of families be- longing to organized crime. One of the issues that many people in Vibo have to deal with is the mafia.
I loved high school. I had the opportunities to meet fantastic people and get involved in many projects, even outside of Italy. I spent all of my summers in the United States attending differ- ent programs. My first summer I attended an English course at Bloomfield College in Newark, New Jersey while working at The New Jersey Historical Society (NJHS) restoring old newspapers found in ancient houses in the sub- urbs of Newark. The director of NJHS knew that I wanted to come and study in the United States and gave me advice on preparing for the SAT. He advised me to take a course at The Hun’s School of Princeton, which I did the follow- ing summer. During the summer of my junior year, I decided to try regular classes in English, so I went to Cornell University and took three classes, my favorite of which was animal physiology. I fell in love with biology. I needed to know more about it and wanted to have some experience in the field.
The summer of my fourth year of high school (which is not the se- nior year, since high school in Italy takes five years), Idecided to apply to a summer fellowship program at the Masonic Medical Research LabinUtica.Ittookmesomeeffort to get involved in the program as it was only offered to sophomore, junior, and senior college students. Writing emails once or twice a month during the school year and trying to convince the director that myagewouldnotbeaproblemwas not an easy task. I finally received a definitive answer a few months before the beginning of the pro- gram and packed very quickly. I also had to ask my high school for permission to take all of my final examssometimeearlierintheyear.
Once in Upstate New York, I stayed at Mohawk Valley Com- munity College (MVCC) in Utica, taking one class in the evening after working in the laboratory all day. I took public speaking which turned out to be very helpful for my presentation at the end of the fellowship. Because of my age, I was not officially part of the pro- gram. I was not eligible for getting paid, so I worked as a volunteer. Volunteering turned out to be an advantage. I saved a lot of money cooking delicious Italian dishes for myself and students who were spending the summer at MVCC. I did a lot of walking because I did not have a car, and the research lab wasprettyfarfromwhereIstayed.I didnotcareaboutallofthatbecause I was enjoying my work on stem cells, optical mapping of calcium channels,andphysiologicalexperi- ments. I met great people, students who loved what they were doing and researchers who had an honest passion for their work. One of the student researchers was a senior at a local college and a tour guide. Since I was looking for a school to apply to, she invited me to take a look at the College on the Hill. Did I fall in love with the campus?
Of course! It was not just the beauty of the campus, but the students themselves who convinced me of my decision. In Italy, I felt trapped in a box where there is no diversity or contrasting opinions. AtHamiltonIdidnotmeetjustpeo- ple, but people with personalities who had their own view of things and who were not afraid to share it.
I applied as soon as I could and waited… months looked longer to me. Tourists went away from my town. Usually they come in the summer for the sun and the beach. Last year tourists stayed longer than usual because the Mediter- ranean Sea had never looked so blue. One morning I woke up, and I could clearly see Sicily and the Eolie Islands from my balcony. It was a random day like many until I checked my computer.
When I saw “the letter” I felt like I needed another heart be- cause mine was not able to beat fast enough. I flew to Newark, drove up to Upstate New York and discovered a totally new world.At Hamilton, I saw people with dif- ferent interests and backgrounds working together and not against each other. During my period at Hamilton I figured out that the word“Hamily”hasadeepermean- ing than what we think. It does not connect you only with your roommate or the person who sits next to you in your biology class, but also to the people who have been here before you and went through your experiences before you such as professors and alumni.
At Hamilton, I discovered what I am, and I do not need to be an Italian or an American be- cause I am much more now: I am a Hamilton College student.