In my last blog, I noted how the mainstream media rarely delves into Florida governor Ron DeSantis’s ethnic background. From personal experiences with regular folk, I would guess it’s for the same reasons – that people either consider it unimportant or that he doesn’t act or sound like a stereotype they can exploit, in his case, Italian American.

The late New York governor Mario Cuomo, the last Italian American pol to be discussed as serious presidential fodder (early 90s), had “ethnic” written all over him. He was from New York, had a vowel at the end of his name, and deliberately peppered his speeches and press conferences with Italian phrases, references, or stories. By contrast, DeSantis grew up in Florida, has a surname which could be mistaken for Anglo, Greek, French or even Hispanic, and, as far as I know, has zero interest in his Italian heritage. That is certainly his prerogative.

But what price progress? As a colleague of mine once remarked to me years ago, “What’s the point of having an Italian American president who knows nothing about Italy, the Italian language, or even Italian American history?”

Assimilation is like that fantastical creature in the 1968 Beatles’ animated film Yellow Submarine, a behemoth with a giant vacuum for a face which keeps sucking up everything around it. Suddenly, nothing is left. We become “Wonder Bread Wops” (one of the few clever phrases in David Chase’s otherwise despicable HBO series, The Sopranos).

What’s lost? History. Culture. Language. As Cuomo himself once noted, the beauty of America is that immigrants can still honor their own cultures and traditions so long as they live within the parameters of our Constitution. For Italian Americans, the loss of all of the above means that we literally disappear; there is no record of our struggles, our achievements, or our not-so-subtle differences from other white ethnic groups (e.g., our initially ambiguous racial status or our innate creativity, musicality, and friendliness). And, of course, there is the biggie: how we have allowed Hollywood to define us – for over 100 years and counting – as gangsters, buffoons, bigots and bimbos.

It would be nice to have someone in the White House – the biggest bully pulpit of them all – who could use it to chide Hollywood and the media, which Cuomo frequently did when he was elevated to the national stage. Speriamo!

These thoughts were brought about by something rather trivial: the selection last week of actor Chris Evans as People Magazine‘s “Sexiest Man Alive”. Known for his famous role as Captain America (how much more American can you get?), Evans is also, like DeSantis, of Italian heritage (mom’s side). Indeed, Evans’s uncle, Michael Capuano, is a former Congressman from Massachusetts. Does the average filmgoer associate Evans with being an Italian male? No. Did they do so with a previous “Sexiest Man Alive,” Bradley Cooper, also of Italian heritage on his mom’s side? (Campano). No.

Neither one appears to have any skeletons in his closet (code for “mobbed up relatives”). They also don’t talk or act like the leather-skinned goombahs on Jersey Shore or TV’s endless zoo of dumb-assed Italian men (Vinnie Barbarino on Welcome Back, Kotter, the Fonz on Happy Days, Joey Tribbiani of Friends, Richie on King of Queens, and even Tony Danza in Taxi).

They are well-spoken and intelligent – in short, normal Americans. Which is what we’re rarely portrayed as on-screen.

And please note: Even when Italian Americans are well-spoken and intelligent, it doesn’t mean the media still doesn’t play games.

Nick Bosa, a defensive end with the San Francisco 49ers football team, was profiled in a huge article in a San Francisco newspaper last year that focused almost exclusively on his great-grandfather, Chicago mob boss Tony Accardo.  Bosa never even met his great-grandfather; he only heard stories about him. That still didn’t stop the media from “tackling” the young Bosa to the sidelines so they could indulge in their mob obsession.

They likewise do something similar to another 49ers player, quarterback Jimmy Garoppolo. The press frequently describes Garoppolo as coming from a “working class” or “gritty” background (his father was an electrician). In fact, Garoppolo grew up in Arlington Heights, IL, a middle-class Chicago suburb. What’s at play here is the media’s other obsession – putting a “blue collar forever” sticker on Italians, and not in a nice way. The implication is that, just as we all have gangster relatives in our closets, we also aren’t a very intelligent people. Like the Fonz, we are all thumbs.

On the other hand, on September 28th, actress Sofia Loren celebrated her 88th birthday. For decades, Loren has literally been the symbol not only of feminine pulchritude (beauty) but of the Italian nation: sexy, vivacious, and passionate. Someday, Americans will, we hope, associate those same virtues with Italian Americans, male or female.  -BDC