My grandmother's maiden name was McClure, and my mother's maiden name was Menovich, so ICE can't make up their minds whether to deport me and my sister to Scotland or Romania...
The small town where I was born had Italian and Polish neighborhoods on its south side, including Catholic churches which we attended. The south side was a wonderful place, especially on Sunday afternoons when the delicious smells of tomato sauce, sausage and fresh bread wafted over the whole neighborhood. There were 2 parks where I, descendant of Ukrainian, Polish and English immigrants, would play tennis with my bestie, a Sicilian immigrants' daughter. Sadly, most of the people making the neighborhood so lovely have passed away. Many years later, I lived for 5 years in Egypt and knew people from all over the world. Diversity is wonderful; you learn so much about the world and its peoples. I don't understand the toxic xenophobia that's gripping America.
Growing up in an Italian immigrant family I still remember realising that Americans were different than us when I was at a friends house for dinner. Corn on the cob was being served which the family buttered by buttering a slice of bread and than wrapping it around their corn to apply butter to it. You folks are just weird!
My Father had a freakish talent for languages, to my knowledge he spoke at least 8 or 9. an example of his talent was the US Army sent him to Yale during WWII to learn Japanese for 18 months. This is why my Dad spent 6 years in Japan working on the reconstruction after VJ Day. Anyway among my Father's favorite things was Etymology, I can still hear him telling me that defenestra comes from the Latin word for window "fenestra"
A lovely piece, but alas we were not a very mannerly society to *everyone* in 1952. Do you notice who Ms. Vanderbilt does NOT mention in her call for respect of immigrants? The “immigrants” who were brought here by force. Were they worthy of respect? Especially in the South (but not just the South), Black Americans were expected to be mannerly to white folks, but the same manners were not extended to them.
Some of us older folks may not be alive when the U.S. is pulled out of this dystopia reality. Hope my grandkids live to be there. I appreciate your upbeat position. But...
“Why do they all have to live in one neighborhood?" Vanderbilt is correct as far as she goes. But she leaves out the little fact that established residents, often terrified by the possibility of the values of their property decreasing, tend to push new immigrants into certain areas. The phenomenon of certain ethnicities in certain neighborhoods is not entirely s result of self-selection.
I don't have to know which fork to use (though, like a lot of useless trivia, I do), but so much of what we call "woke" or avoiding political incorrectness is simply good manners...
There are a few Nero Wolfe stories from the late 40s and 50s that are very sympathetic to the plight of "displaced persons", including a few who came in without going through the official process.
My grandmother's maiden name was McClure, and my mother's maiden name was Menovich, so ICE can't make up their minds whether to deport me and my sister to Scotland or Romania...
The small town where I was born had Italian and Polish neighborhoods on its south side, including Catholic churches which we attended. The south side was a wonderful place, especially on Sunday afternoons when the delicious smells of tomato sauce, sausage and fresh bread wafted over the whole neighborhood. There were 2 parks where I, descendant of Ukrainian, Polish and English immigrants, would play tennis with my bestie, a Sicilian immigrants' daughter. Sadly, most of the people making the neighborhood so lovely have passed away. Many years later, I lived for 5 years in Egypt and knew people from all over the world. Diversity is wonderful; you learn so much about the world and its peoples. I don't understand the toxic xenophobia that's gripping America.
Growing up in an Italian immigrant family I still remember realising that Americans were different than us when I was at a friends house for dinner. Corn on the cob was being served which the family buttered by buttering a slice of bread and than wrapping it around their corn to apply butter to it. You folks are just weird!
My Father had a freakish talent for languages, to my knowledge he spoke at least 8 or 9. an example of his talent was the US Army sent him to Yale during WWII to learn Japanese for 18 months. This is why my Dad spent 6 years in Japan working on the reconstruction after VJ Day. Anyway among my Father's favorite things was Etymology, I can still hear him telling me that defenestra comes from the Latin word for window "fenestra"
A lovely piece, but alas we were not a very mannerly society to *everyone* in 1952. Do you notice who Ms. Vanderbilt does NOT mention in her call for respect of immigrants? The “immigrants” who were brought here by force. Were they worthy of respect? Especially in the South (but not just the South), Black Americans were expected to be mannerly to white folks, but the same manners were not extended to them.
She also glossed over the genocide committed on our indigenous people.
Baby steps?
Some of us older folks may not be alive when the U.S. is pulled out of this dystopia reality. Hope my grandkids live to be there. I appreciate your upbeat position. But...
I'm glad I don't have grandkids; a consequence of not having kids, for which I am also glad.
Wikipedia says that Amy Vanderbilt died from a fall?
Back in 1952 suicide was rarely mentioned; ironically in her case it was considered in poor taste.
“Why do they all have to live in one neighborhood?" Vanderbilt is correct as far as she goes. But she leaves out the little fact that established residents, often terrified by the possibility of the values of their property decreasing, tend to push new immigrants into certain areas. The phenomenon of certain ethnicities in certain neighborhoods is not entirely s result of self-selection.
I don't have to know which fork to use (though, like a lot of useless trivia, I do), but so much of what we call "woke" or avoiding political incorrectness is simply good manners...
Ta, Robyn, especially for the Warhol illustrations. I have manners, and love them in others. I also have nothing against immigrants.
The pie thing is why I loved The Joy of Cooking. Lots of how to do it, fewer recipes.
This took me back. My mom gave us her book of manners, although I remember it as a book for teens.
My sisters and I howled through it. She was so uncool.
I can't believe that you kept it. That's a first for me. You are the only person I know of who did that.
That was a really thoughtful essay. Thank you for sharing it
Yayyyyy!
There are a few Nero Wolfe stories from the late 40s and 50s that are very sympathetic to the plight of "displaced persons", including a few who came in without going through the official process.
That was really lovely and a much-needed balm right now. Thanks.