For World Peace Think Italian Food

It was 1984, Cristina Di Milia showed up in my mom's 5th-grade class at the private Catholic school she taught at in Atlanta, Georgia. She didn't speak a word of English. Her family had just moved to Atlanta from Rome, Italy. Giuseppe  (Cristina's father) was an ambassador from Italy to the United States. These were authentic Italians in every possible sense. They once told us that their home in Rome was so close to the Vatican that they had problems with tourists blocking their driveway. Giuseppe's career in the Italian government had taken his family all over the world and in the early 80's it brought them to Atlanta, Georgia where our lives intersected. 

My mom worked hard with Cristina and by the time Christmas came around, she was speaking English and keeping up with the other kids in her class at grade level. The Di Milias were very grateful and credited my mom with teaching Cristina English. Before long we started getting invited to their dinner parties and my parents struck up a genuine friendship with them. A dinner party at the Di Milias was like no other dinner party that I've ever been to before or since.

The Food

Cecilia Di Milia was an extraordinary Italian cook. I'd eaten Italian food before but had never eaten real Italian food. Not like that, these weren't the Americanized versions of the recipes that were being served in our local restaurants. This food was straight out of Rome and we were lucky enough to be amongst the very few in a city of millions of people to get to experience it.

The meals were extravagant and contained multiple courses. The huge table was set just right and there was Italian music playing lightly in the background. The astounding and distinct flavors of each course tested your inner-restraint to not eat too much knowing that the next course was going to be equally amazing if not even better. 

Then, my own mom began cooking with Cecilia. She started showing my mom how to cook real Italian food. Before long my mom was preparing some of the recipes at our house. Now, my mom has now passed on the recipes to my wife. A few of the dishes we enjoyed in the '80s at the Di Milia's dinner parties now make regularly appears on my family's dinner table. The pasta broccoli dish is a family favorite. If it can get a two and six-year-old to eat broccoli and ask for seconds, you know it must be good!

The People

There were families from all over the world invited to the Di Milia's dinner parties. They were families who were also diplomats from Asia, Africa, the Middle East, you name it. We were often times the only American family invited.

All the kids played together seamlessly. There were all types of languages being spoken and not all of them spoke English fluently. We came from different religions, we dressed differently, some were different races, had different customs, and we were all different ages. NONE of that mattered. The playing was genuine. It was fun at its purest form. Tolerance was everywhere. It wasn't something that we were even conscious of at the time. It just happened naturally. You know, like it should.

Final Thought

When I look at the problems we face in the world with terrorism, mass shootings, racism, and more, I can't help but wonder. Would the violence and intolerance still exist if everyone would've somehow had a chance to have dinner at the Di Milias?

About the Author:: John White is a recovering 13-year veteran of the wireless industry, current owner and chief marketer at Social Marketing Solutions, Brand Ambassador for a new affinity-based social media network beBee, and contributing writer to The Good Men Project, Dice Insights, and the Social Marketing Blog. When he is not blogging or Tweeting, John enjoys being a dad, playing tennis, and eating Mexican food. Call or text me: 970-692-3270.