Two weeks ago I spoke for New York Italians at Fordham University's Lincoln Center campus about the "Saints of New York." It was a cold, dreary week night and I did not expect such a huge crowd even though nearly 200 people RSVPd. The lecture hall was packed with people who were even willing to sit on the floor, all around the room's perimiter.

So what's so interesting about the saints, you might ask? For Italian-Americans, they are direct lines to the ancient past and for New Yorkers, they are part of the rich folklore of the streets.

I focused my talk on three saints: San Cono an obscure saint brought to Williamsburg by immigrants of Teggiano in the Cilento, the Madonna of East Harlem, patron saint of what was once the largest Italian neighborhood in the country, and the Black Madonna of 13th Street, recently exhumed by a group of scholars and folklorists who celebrate this Sicilian earth goddess annually at the Phoenix Bar, which in its prior incarnation was her storefront shrine. Each saint is a portal into a community of immigrants, a town in Italy, a regional identity, a lineage of language, culture and customs that originate in Greek and Roman antiquity. The saints are mediums for re-awakening the ancient past and receiving answers about who we are and where we come from.

One of my favorite things about the saints is they are mediums to the spiritual realm without neccesarily being religious. Many of the saints beloved by Italians are not officially canonized or even recognized by the Vatican. Quite often they are an adaptation of a local myth making them an all the more fascinating look at our traditions. Myths are stories that deeply resonate because they encapsulate our deepest yearnings, our subconscious desires and our societal needs. The saints are like kites that humans use to fly their prayers closer to God.

My own mythology is rooted in the Madonna del Granato who was once the goddess Isis. She's the patron of my grandmother's hometown of Capaccio, high up on Mount Calpazio, above the Greek temples at Paestum. Holding a pomegranate, she is the Christianized version of Isis, a deity once worshipped there, and a statue Isis in the local museum shows her also holding a pomegranate.

Even though I know this entire history and myth well, by sharing stories of the Madonna during the lecture, I immediately opened a door to the past. A woman in the audience happened to be from Paestum and was stunned to see her local saint in my presentation. We chatted afterward and shared contact information. She put me in touch with Gaetano Puca, a Capaccio native who is also the local historian. Via Facebook, he shared memories he had of my great-grandfather and knew all sorts of details about other relatives in my extended family, many of which I didn't know. The connections we can make with just a few small details are absolutely breathtaking.

Thanks once again to Fordham University, Professor Joseph Perricone, Pasquale Maio and all the other New York Italians!

by Danielle Oteri