When I saw my 9-year-old daughter Lucia step onto the stage at Italian Culture and Language Camp – apron tied, headscarf knotted – I was immediately delighted. But when she began to move her body in the exact way my father, aunts, and cousins move theirs? I was stunned. And then I was undone.
Transfixed and not wanting to miss a moment, I decided not to dig through my purse for a tissue. I let the tears – of joy, connection, remembrance, release – stream freely as I clapped a rhythm I knew in my bones. The whole performance lasted only minutes – how much could they teach in four days of camp?
