It’s All Greek to Me

For as long as I can remember I have had a herd of family members at every family function or event ever imaginable. I would be that kid who always would have their family members come in fashionably late to award ceremonies and interrupt what was going on to announce to the world that I, Vicki G, was in their family. Not that that scenario isn’t embarrassing, but I would not want my life any other way because my family is so close. It really doesn’t matter the occasion or holiday, but it would be inevitable to walk into one of my many cousins’ houses and instantly be hit with the smell of food cooking, wine spilling on the floor, and genuine laughter and happiness. My Greek heritage and my family traditions are what make me who I am today.

Besides being with my Greek family, my pride for my heritage and culture is so important to me. When I was little, I was definitely the stereotypical little Greek girl who attended Greek School. Everyone enrolled had to partake in our church’s annual Greek Independence Day celebration on March 25th. I don’t feel the same with America’s Independence Day because I feel like it’s a holiday one just celebrates for the sake of celebrating. On the other hand, with Greek Independence Day, I feel as if I am whole and that whatever I do that day has meaning because of how my community always gets together to celebrate.

The height of any Greek school year was definitely the program at my church. The day of our performance was utter chaos. I remember little kids would run around trying to remember traditional poems their moms made them memorize or trying to find where they misplaced the Greek flags they needed to wave for our grand entrance into program. We would be dressed up in traditional garb resembling what the Greek heroes during the War for Independence that our grandmothers worked laboriously on making. Our parents always fussed taking pictures of us in these costumes, which is probably why most kids in general resented wearing them. The girls would be in Amelia costumes, which would consist of a full, satin skirt, a gold-embroidered jacket, a ruffled shirt, and a little traditional fez with tassels. The boys would always complain about their outfits. They resembled little Tsolias costumes with tights, skirts, shoes with a fluffy ball on the end, a gold-embroidered jacket, and a fez with a tassel. For me personally, I felt like it was an out of body experience.

I was always so excited to wear my costume or recite a poem describing the heroism of the Greeks who fought for their rights and independence from the Turks. Wearing a costume made me feel as if I was actually one of them. It felt as if I would get into character during our performance, but I was not getting into character by how proud I felt.

The music of patriotic songs would play over the loud speaker like thunder, and they reached into our hearts like lightning. Our hard work and effort would pay off once we saw the pride and pure happiness on our parents and grandparent’s faces. Our egos would definitely be boosted that day, and any slacking we did during the school year would be forgotten. The year might have changed, but the meaning of this day or the events that always take place on this day are everlasting to me.

“My Big Fat Greek Wedding” is the story of my life, and my Greek culture is with me in each breath that I take and each beat of my heart. Despite Greece’s current economic downfall, I still have pride in my country and heritage. I understand what the words “tradition,” “family,” and “culture,” mean because those words describe how I was raised and because of my personal connection to it as a little girl. I enjoy spending time with my big family, no matter how loud and annoying they might be. My culture, my family, and my culture’s traditions are what I believe in, and I wouldn’t trade any of those things for the world.