It’s a familiar phrase: “Tutte le strade portano a Roma”: All roads lead to Rome. The phrase is literal: It refers to how the fabled Roman roads fanned out like spoke-wheels, encompassing the classical world. And it is also, of course, metaphorical: The legacy of classical Rome lives on nearly 3,000 years later, specifically, via its template for “America.”

Painting of Classical Rome:
Giovanni Paolo Panini (1691-1765)

On a more personal level, to Italian Americans, this means connecting with one’s Italian roots, regardless of how tenuous or from what part of Italy they sprang. Even A. Bartlett Giamatti, the former Yale University president who later became a highly respected commissioner of major league baseball, once noted that the Italian immigrants who came to our shores actively carried sparks of that classical culture within them, regardless of their educational levels.

But sometimes this connection to Italy is sparked, and further solidified, through the eyes of strangers and/or non-Italians. I had the pleasure of experiencing such a phenomenon again when I shared lunch last week with an ex-teaching colleague. He had just returned from a week-long trip with his 22-year-old daughter to  ̶  where else?  ̶  Rome.

It was the first time for each, a special graduation present to his eldest child. And yes, they had a blast. As a thank-you gift to her father, his daughter secretly made a hard-cover book with photos they took together in Rome, as well as during one-day side-trips to Florence and the Amalfi Coast. Both want to return to Italy again  ̶  a familiar refrain.

In short, to quote the 1968 Marvin Gaye/Tammi Terrell song, “Ain’t Nothin’ Like the Real Thing.”

My colleague had two takeaways. One, of course, was food-related, in particular artichokes  ̶  how to eat and cook them. Even something this simple astounded him. The second was much, much deeper: his recognition, on an almost palpable level, of the Italian concept of bella figura  ̶  making a fine impression. He noticed how the Italians went out of their way to either look well-dressed or make even a casual, interpersonal exchange seem very “genuine”  ̶  no fakery.

As he put it, “I always got the sense that the Italians truly live in the moment.” Indeed. It’s called humanity.

He also noticed that the concept of bella figura wasn’t rooted in visual vanity; rather, that it’s motivated more by a sense of respect for the other person, of putting someone else at ease. By taking the time to look presentable, it sends a message to the other person: I consider you worthy of respect  ̶  even via something as simple as basic hygiene.

“I think this is something Americans can certainly learn,” he said, laughing. It struck him immediately the day after he returned from his trip when he went to the local grocery store  ̶  where people literally wore pajamas bottoms. Ugh!

So what do people who don’t visit Italy learn about Italy, Italians, or Italian Americans?

The following two examples happened to me the very same week my ex-teaching colleague returned from Rome. Both happened at my local gym, where I try to work on my own sense of bella figura (i.e. lose some weight).

An Albanian immigrant in his mid-50s, whose second “Americanized” son had just graduated from DePaul University, asked me my heritage. When I said, “American,” he shook his head and said, “No, no, your parents or grandparents.”

When I replied “Italian,” he stopped, smiled a bit, then held up his hands and said jokingly, “Please don’t shoot me!”

A day later, two Iraqi immigrant-cousins in their early 30s, both displaced by the U.S. invasion of 2003, also asked me where my ancestors came from. When I said, “Italy,” one of the cousins quickly joked, “Are you in the mafia”?

Where do recent immigrants from Albania and Iraq get the idea that the Italian legacy means ‘guns and violence?’

I’m pretty sure that if, like my colleague, they ever actually visited Italy, such notions wouldn’t be their first response.

I don’t think I need to answer my aforementioned question. Just ask the legions of fans still showering praise on James Caan, Ray Liotta, Paul Sirico, and Paul Sorvino  ̶  actors who chose to promote the concept of “la BRUTTA (ugly) figura.” -BDC