1960-2020: Six Decades of Local Feminism

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.” 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.

"I am evidence that accepting one’s origins, especially when you are young, can open up a whole world of memories and opportunities."

26 The Origins Issue This is one of my favorite Greek foods: a chicken souvlaki. It is chicken, feta cheese, tomatoes, and tzatziki sauce all wrapped in a warm pita.

The Origins Issue 27

PLACES

28 The Origins Issue

The Fest: An Annual Homecoming

Story and Photos by Santiago Chacin

Punk music has origins all over the country dating back to the ‘70s, but there is no particular area it can call its home. Or is there?

Interestingly, The Fest has managed to persuade punks all over the globe to travel to Gainesville every year for a massive concert series featuring the hottest bands of the genre.

How did this happen? Tony Weinbender, founder of The Fest, says it was at the request of his friends.

“When I first moved to Gainesville, touring bands whom I was friends with were asking me if there were shows happening and if I could put them on,” he said.

Born in Virginia, Weinbender grew up listening to all kinds of music — from '80s synth pop to hip-hop — and became invested in punk when he attended college.

“I went to James Madison University where I learned the level of booking bands and doing volunteer work,” he said. “I booked bands like The Get Up Kids and befriended them.”

Weinbender made the move to Gainesville in 2000 when his friend Vinnie Fiorello, the drummer of the Gainesville band Less Than Jake, invited him to work under the record label Fueled by Ramen along with John Janick.

Weinbender’s tenure at Fueled by Ramen, however, only lasted about a year due to frequent creative conflicts with Janick.

“John had this idea about where he wanted to take the record label, and I just did not agree,” he said. After both quitting and getting fired from FBR simultaneously, Weinbender worked multiple jobs before starting The Fest. These gigs ranged from moving dorm furniture and waiting tables to donating plasma.

By 2002, Weinbender got a number of bands that he befriended to play at some of the bars in downtown Gainesville in spring break of that year. This would become the first edition of The Fest that had bands such as Against Me! and Hot Water Music, whom are still active today, perform.

“Everyone had a lot of fun that day,” he said. “When the show was over, everyone was telling me ‘hey man, can’t wait for the next one.’”

Although the first Fest felt more like a local concert rather than a full-blown festival, touring bands spread the word and attracted more people across the country to the event and, thus, people traveled to Gainesville to attend.

Over the years, Fest grew in size and scope to the point where it now includes most of the bars in downtown Gainesville as well as the Bo Diddley Plaza stage.

“The growth of Fest was an obstacle, so we talked to city commissioners to use Bo Diddley Plaza to let more people in and get bigger bands,” Weinbender said.

Currently, The Fest has attendants from all over the country and even from overseas who rush all the way to the Sunshine State to see punk acts like Jawbreaker, Cursive and The Menzingers.

“He wanted to go with more pop bands whereas I wanted to keep the punk ethos.” The Origins Issue 29