This is one of my favor ite Greek foods: a chicken souvlak i. It is chicken, feta cheese, tomatoes, and tzatzik i sauce all wrapped in a warm pita.
It’s All Greek to Me: How I Learned to Embrace My Culture Story and Photos by Kaliope Dris
Legend has it that my first word was “OPA!” I also like to think that the first movie I ever watched as a child was “My Big Fat Greek Wedding.” OK — I am exaggerating. But growing up with a name that was mispronounced by every teacher, doctor, peer, friend and stranger sure made me feel like these things were true. Having two parents who are 100% Greek exposed me to a plethora of experiences and opportunities that I have not truly appreciated until now. When I was younger, I often dreaded having to explain my name or sit through a Greek wedding ceremony that I could barely understand. Now as a 22-yearold, I understand how important it is to embrace one’s culture and to be curious about the origins of one’s heritage. When I was in first grade, my mother put me in Greek school to learn the language, as most Greek mothers did. While all of the other children showed up weekly with a smile on their faces, I dreaded the moment I had to walk through the door. I had no desire to learn how to speak Greek and thought that I never would. I now have the esteemed title of “Greek School Drop Out.”
"I am evidence that
accepting one’s origins, especially when you are young, can open up a whole world of memories and opportunities."
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This same pattern occurred with Greek dance. My Greek Orthodox Church set up lessons for the children to learn dances and eventually compete. Dancing is a big part of my culture. If you attend a Greek party or gathering, you will most likely witness a Greek band and dancing. It may not sound so bad, but I rolled my eyes standing in that dance circle, waiting for the practice to be over. In middle school, I joined a youth orthodox Greek choir at my church called the Orthodox Youth Choir of Tampa Bay and began to slowly appreciate the small opportunities I had as a Greek American. This was the first time I started to actually enjoy doing something “Greek,” even though I did not exactly know what the lyrics meant. We attended a competition each year called the Hellenic Dance Festival. Being surrounded by hundreds of Greek children, I realized that there was this whole community of children my age trying to connect to their culture and origins the same way that I was. That was only the beginning, and a small piece of what being Greek means to me today. As I grew up, I saw a shift in myself. When I started high school, I had to make a whole new group of friends, which meant they would ask me about my name. I resorted to introducing myself as my Americanized nickname, Kaylee. Although I tried to avoid a lengthy explanation, my school friends began to ask me about my name and my culture. When I would explain my parents’ background and the various traditions we had, they actually wanted to know more. I began
to feel special — like I had this interesting part of me that no one else had. My mother’s family is from a small island called Ikaria. Some have heard of it because it is famously known as being a “blue zone” where it's common to live well into your late 90s and early 100s. Each year, a group of people with roots from the island host an Ikarian Convention. My mother would rave about her memories at these conventions, saying that she made some of her best friends there, even if they only saw each other once a year. In my sophomore year of high school, the convention was held in my hometown, Clearwater, Florida. Not knowing what to expect, my sister and I attended. Tears filled my mother’s eyes as she saw friends she had not seen in 10 years. There was a special connection there. People who had not seen each other in years connected as if they were next door neighbors who saw each other every day. The whole weekend we Greek danced until 3 a.m., listened to Greek music and ate amazing Greek food. This became a tradition, and I attended for multiple years consecutively. Years later, “Kaylee has another Greek convention to go to this weekend” became a running joke between my friends and I. What I have learned as a young adult now is that the bond that Greeks have to one another is something that I need to embrace.
In the summer of 2018, I visited Greece for the second time. I look back at pictures all the time, waiting for when I can visit again. As a senior in college, I willingly enrolled in Beginning Modern Greek. When I am home for holidays, I help my mother cook my favorite Greek dish, spanakopita, in hopes that I will learn the recipe to make it myself. Looking back, I wish that I would not have given up in the beginning, but my Greek roots are not going anywhere. I am evidence that accepting one’s origins, especially when you are young, can open up a whole world of memories and opportunities. According to ChingYu Huang, a lecturer in Psychology at Bournemouth University, “This early exposure affects the way children attend to themselves or to their relationships with others—forming their self image and identity.” My Greek culture now makes up a huge part of who I am. I am no longer embarrassed that there is probably a giant lamb being cooked in my backyard on Easter. In fact, I might even introduce myself as Kaliope to a stranger. I hope to teach my children at a young age what it means to be Greek and why it is so important. Although I do have about 15 family members named Nick, it is something that I would never want to change.
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