Tomato, Tomahto; Provenzano, Soprano

Two summers ago, I attended the most awful vacation to Ohio’s little town of Vermilion with my dad, brother and my dad’s overly opinionated girlfriend, Amy. There was only one television in our little lakeside retreat, and I had difficulty prying the remote out of my brother’s fingers. I made it very clear that the only show I wanted to watch in peace and quiet the entire week was Bravo’s The Real Housewives of New Jersey; the newest addition to my favorite reality shows. No matter how real it is (or isn’t), I really don’t care. I get involved for pure entertainment, and I enjoy watching it, so shoot me.

“This show is absolutely disgraceful to Italian-Americans,” Amy squeaked, “these people should be ashamed of themselves." She was sprawled out on the couch reading Barack Obama’s The Audacity of Hope. I wanted nothing more than to jump up and yell thanks for your opinion, but NO ONE cares right now, because truly, no one did. No one responded, but I should have.

I completely understand anyone, especially Italian-Americans like myself, who believes that shows like The Real Housewives of New Jersey and MTV’s Jersey Shore, portray those of Italian ethnicity in a negative light. Unfortunately, the media creates stereotypes for all types of people. When HBO’s Sopranos aired, it created a media frenzy because it made the “assumption” that all Italian-Americans living in New Jersey (or anywhere for that matter) deal with organized crime. Just because my mother’s maiden name is Provenzano, which rhymes with Soprano, doesn’t mean my family is in the mafia.

Both my mother and father are Italian; my father’s grandparents and my mother’s parents immigrated to America. I was raised to embrace my Italian heritage, and I am extremely proud of my family. I was also raised to distinguish truth from opinion. These shows serve as entertainment outlets, a look into someone else’s ridiculous life to give viewers a laugh or to make them feel better about their current situation. Television viewers need to keep an open mind, and if the show is that bothersome change the channel or contact television executives to express your opinion on why the show should be removed. I know I don’t fit most of the stereotypes shown through these programs. Yes, I can be loud, and I express myself with hand gestures. I wear my heart on my sleeve, and I like glitter and animal print anything. On the other hand, my cousin Frankie doesn’t have a blow-out, I don’t go tanning, and no one is referred to as a “guido” in my family. If it is impossible to distinguish characters on a show from “real life” people, then maybe you shouldn’t watch television.

I remember being in middle school, playing outside with the kids from my neighborhood. One kid asked me, “Hey, are you Puerto Rican?”

“Nope,” I said, “I’m Italian.”

“Oh, are you in the mafia?” He assumingly asked me.

“Yes,” I said laughing at this boy so naive to false stereotypes, “and if you aren’t nice to me, my Uncle Vinny is going to cut you off at the knees.” He never bothered me again.