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You are in: Home » Testimonial YOU MAY LEAVE SICILY - BUT SICILY NEVER LEAVES YOU
 Growing up as a little girl in Brooklyn, Sundays were always spent at Grandma and Grandpa's house on Trottman Street. Our Sunday dinners were special there. All my Aunts, Uncles and cousins would be there and we would all share a big pasta dinner. I never understood the language spoken at Grandma's but it was such a special time, a time of family.
However, through the years, my family became more American. Of course we still celebrate certain customs, but with the passing of my Grandparents a lot of our tradition was lost. We became Americans of Italian decent.
I'm a mother of 3 young adults and have always been proud of my Sicilian heritage. I have taught my children that family always comes first. We stick together no matter what. This belief was stirred in my soul. I come from a broken home by divorce, so I always thought my commitment to family stemmed from that. But coming to Sicily, coming to my roots, the home of my ancestors, I have learned that my soul stirs from the traditions of the Sicilians. I am so much of my Sicilian heritage and never really knew it until my visit here to Sicily this year.
Touring through Sicily with 2 wonderful natives of this beautiful country, I have been exposed to love. A love for family (family just found), for the people of Sicily and love of the sea and land. All of which has always been a big part of me. Now I know where it all comes from. Now I truly appreciate how great and important heritage is. It is something you are born with, not something obtained.
Yes my grandparents left Sicily in the early 1900's and yes my parents were born in America, but I know now that Sicily has never left us!
My special thanks and wished for God's blessings to Josephine Asaro Cannamela of C.I.A.O. and Giuseppe Tranchida of Sicilia in Tour for the wonderful job they did in reuniting me to my family here in Sicily and helping to reconnect with my beautiful heritage that I am proud to call my own.
Joan Madonia Paceco (TP)
MY HISTORY IS TRANSATLANTIC
 As I stand here 10,000 feet in the air and look out at the land of my ancestors, of my father, I am filled with such emotions, such pride. I don't know if there are words to describe this feeling. Beneath the castle in the clouds, atop Erice, I can feel the blood of my ancestors running through me. Their pain, their joy, their history fills my heart and takes over my body. I wonder how I can be so moved, for I was not born on this land. I am American, and my history is transatlantic.
I once stood in the Great Hall of Ellis Island, for years the entry point for so many hopeful immigrants. One hundred years ago my great grandmother, my mother's grandmother, stood in that very Great Hall. She was sixteen years old.
And one hundred years later I stood in her footsteps. Her fear, her hope filled my heart and took over my body. I could feel her strength running through my blood. Yes, my history is also in America.
I am the daughter of Italian immigrants and I have spent my life trying to perfect the balance between my Italian heritage and my life as an American. I've studied the culture and the language of my ancestors intimately. My parents gave me the gift of exposure to my heritage. They gave me the gift of the ability and the desire to be passionate about my culture and to love our family's homeland. I've returned to Italy many times throughout my childhood. Each voyage an education in the beauty of my ancestral land and culture.
As I have grown, my returns to my Italian home have become more and more a spiritual journey. As I get older, I am not only able to recognize the intensity of the emotions I experience on these journeys, but my understanding of the impact my Italian culture has had on my life has strengthened. For this reason, it is atop that city of Erice, beneath the castle in the clouds that I understand who I am and where I come from. There is no greater peace in life.
Before I left for my last journey to Sicily, my mother told me that she felt this journey would change my life. In October of 1999 I went to Sicily to celebrate Halloween, as well as La Morte. Two holidays: one an American tradition, one an Italian. In the mysterious clouds, along the cobblestone roads of the medieval town of Erice, thousands gathered to celebrate Halloween... A first for most Sicilians. How odd and at the same time spectacular it was to be an American celebrating this holiday amongst Italians. It was as though my worlds came together. And at that moment I realized how much my two worlds are always a part of me, are infinitely intertwined, penetrating all aspects of my life. My mother was right; this trip had changed my life.
See I live two lives, in two worlds. Each time I fly over the dry mountainous terrain into Palermo, each time I take that first breath of sea air, each time I look over the cliff's of Erice, I get that same feeling... that feeling that I am home. I know that I am Italian. And yet, at each first sight of the New York City Skyline, my eyes well up and I get that feeling... that feeling that I am home. I know that I am American. I live two lives, in two worlds, and both are home. My life has been so blessed. Many people spend their whole lives trying to figure out who they are and where they come from, what home means and where it is. I'll spend my life savoring every moment of each.
This April I will return to Sicily to celebrate Easter. As I partake in the traditional Easter processions through the villages of Sicily, once again I will experience the culture of my ancestry. And I will take yet another spiritual journey.
I'll go home.
Donna Marķa Asaro Castellammare del Golfo
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