A new kind of discrimination

How the spread of the COVID-19 virus changed the perception of my nationality by Valerio Vagnoni

“So, where are you from?”

It is a simple question, and probably one of the most common. Your name, your age, the place you are from. It is a small part of what actually defines us, of what makes us who we are. However, it is one of the easiest and most superficial notion to find out.

Personally, I had never thought too much about it. I have never felt a strong attachment to my home country or my hometown. I have spent half of my life living abroad, and my biggest display of patriotism has always been my iron defence of the correct way to cook pasta.

“I am an Italian from Rome”. End of the story. And the main reason is, probably, that up until recently my answer had always caused positive reaction: “Rome is so beautiful”, “Oh, the food is amazing”, “I have been there, I loved it”.

Of course, we are all familiar with the concept of discrimination, of being treated differently or in some cases in a negative way based on personal attributes. An example is your place of birth. We may condemn or feel distant from it, thus we feel like it does not concern us. We cannot truly understand the full meaning of this notion until it happens to us personally, as I sadly noticed since the COVID-19 started spreading rapidly throughout Italy.

“I am Italian, from Rome”. Suddenly, people’s reactions changed. It was not pizza, pasta or the Coliseum anymore. It was fear, fear that I could be sick and infect them. Sometimes pity and concern. For the first time in my life, I felt like the place I was from did make a difference. Suddenly, it was a big deal, something to be ashamed of, something wrong.

It would be pretty hard to say which episode made me feel the worst. Maybe when I was denied the entrance in a club in Bulgaria once I showed them my passport. Maybe here in Thessaloniki, when a random girl on the bus covered her face, disgusted, once she heard me talking to my friends about Rome. Maybe the repeated jokes about it everywhere I went. After a while, I started feeling very uncomfortable when people

asked about my nationality. Sometimes I started lying, saying that I was Spanish, but not anymore.

Whoever knows a little bit about Italian history knows how divided my country is. We are a nation of contradictions and huge differences, and we never seem to understand or even fully accept each other. We have been separated for centuries and we have different traditions, habits, languages, so much that sometimes it is hard to determine what actually brings us together.

However, now, for the first time since I can remember, we are indeed united. Even if right now I am far away, living here in Greece, I can see the

bravery of my people while facing such a terrifying moment together. Physically they might be apart, separated by the quarantine, some trapped very far away from their hometown. But they are connected, they are together, now more than ever. They are giving each other strength and hope.

And yes, for the first time in my life, my nationality is important to me. However, I am not afraid or ashamed anymore, and there is not anybody nor anything that can make me feel otherwise.

“I am Italian, from Rome”.Andrà tutto bene.