Thank God for my Culture

Throughout my childhood, I despised the fact that I was Greek. I grew up in a very Greek household, which meant that we were bound by our very Greek traditions: my absolute favorite being the requirement of attending a Greek After-School program on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I lived through it all. I got teased and picked on constantly at the lunch table because what I brought in was not your typical PB&J sandwich. Rather, I was the one with “the smelly food.” I hated the constant reminder of being Greek. At that point in my life, all I wanted to do was fit in. 

Looking back, I think this was because I wanted to be “American.” What that meant for me was to wear clothes from Justice and to have a normal lunch at school. I could never hang out with my friends on the days in which I had Greek School or Greek School events. I despised the fact that I had to go and study for yet another subject on top of what I was already doing in school. We had exams in grammar, vocabulary, history, mythology and of course, Greek dance. I then went on to graduate at the top of my class, which was only about twenty people, and continued to take a New York State Regents test. I was living the full Greek-American experience and I could not have hated it more. When I received my score, I learned that I scored a 100, which meant that I won a national award from the Greek Church and got to meet the Archbishop of the Greek Orthodox Religion. This was seen as a major accomplishment in the Greek world I lived in. 

However, my outlook slowly changed. I became extremely proud of my culture about midway through my junior year of high school. I embraced my Greek traditions and even became more confident of my school lunches. Being Greek gave me a chance to be different. Eventually, it even became a habit for my friends to ask and come over to eat my mom’s or grandma’s cooking.  

My Greek identity grew the most when I went to college. Perhaps it was because it was the first time I was away from home that I immediately turned to my Greek roots when trying to adjust to campus life. Everyone around me was new. I did not feel like a new person, but I largely identified with being Greek. Not only does my name scream “I’m Greek,” but I began to share my traditions with my new friends. One of my favorite memories was celebrating my name day, which is the equivalent of a birthday in the Greek Orthodox religion. My two friends took me out for dinner and took it to the absolute extreme when it came to treating it as something extremely important. 

I have embraced my culture and taken all of its traditions. As I look back on the years of Greek School, I am beyond thankful to my parents who forced me to attend. I not only learned about the culture, but I also learned the language and am now able to speak it almost fluently. This provided me with the ability to travel to Greece and converse with my grandparents. I have learned so much from their wisdom and knowledge throughout the years. 

Being Greek has allowed me to find an identity and a culture in which I am so happy to be a part of. I can only thank my parents for having raised me in a Greek household full of happy memories in all of its traditions and…yes, we do break plates at celebrations.  

• cultural identity
• culture
• growing up
• inspirational