A Beginner’s Mind – Post Two: Famiglia by Hon. William J. Borah

John Keats once wrote, “Nothing becomes real until it is experienced.” In Post One, I highlighted the value of exploring an applicant’s often-overlooked youthful employment history.?After all, while narrowing down the pool of candidates for a position or a university slot, there may come that dreaded moment when a resume blur emerges—a commonality among the finalists.?At that point, discussing their first jobs might provide a meaningful distinction.?As I mentioned, my pragmatic I.Q. of the human equation developed as a paperboy, fast food worker, waiter, bartender, and steel mill employee, cultivating adaptability, patience, and reliability.?I also learned the importance of compassion and empathy for that weary individual who wants a hamburger or a beer before heading home and who is burdened with unspoken worries.?

The point is that all experiences are learning experiences, and the lessons learned from these first jobs will carry over and accumulate, evolving and developing into a candidate’s interpersonal skills and social intelligence.?It's just good business.

“He (They) who is different from me does not impoverish me – he (they) enriches me.” - Antoine de Saint-Exupery.?

There are other youthful interactions and encounters whose impact may be much more profound than those semi-humorous adventures from our first jobs.?These experiences are more delicate to share and tend to be more private. Therefore, discussing family can be more challenging with a stranger. Those memories can be joyful and loving or hurtful and tragic.?However, the applicant who has faced past failures and obstacles yet still stands before you with scars of resilience is a proven survivor, a proven success, and a problem solver. Consequently, their backstory may reveal their inherent inner strength, but tread carefully; it is their story, not yours. As a result, I will use my filtered and biased story for Post Two - Famiglia - family - Our first influencers. ??????

Our parents nurture, nudge, and guide us by example during our most receptive years; they are the masons of our character. (If they are not our biological parents, there may be one or more loving parental figures who guide us continuously and simultaneously, no matter who they are or how long they hold that role.) We listen to their words, observe their actions, compare what they say with what they do, and witness the pain, flaws, love, and struggles they face and how they cope with them.?Then, once we step out of the family door and into our neighborhood, we are pursued by other influences that, bit by bit, either persuade us to think differently from our parents or reinforce the values they have instilled in us. These influences can fill gaps or broaden our perspectives until we adopt our beliefs.?

What my parents shared in common was membership in "The Greatest Generation,” whose formative years were overshadowed by the devastating financial impact of the Great Depression, immediately followed by World War II, during which my father served in the US Navy. In their youth, their parents instilled the importance of family cohesion and the power of community interconnectedness. During that time, most neighbors were willing to support one another, demonstrating solidarity through food, rent, clothing, and other assistance, all carried out discreetly and without fanfare to preserve the family’s pride and self-worth.???

Our mother’s family consisted of Italian immigrants—Catholic urban shopkeepers, primarily Democrats—while Dad’s ancestry traced back to a long line of Germanic and Irish American forebears; they were Methodist rural farmers and mostly Republicans. Black hair met auburn, pale skin met olive, soft-spoken met verbal, a small family met a large one, punctuality met spontaneity, and both sides were active in their communities. We kids appreciated and later valued these cultural differences in dress, work, play, religion, accents, and cuisines. Nonconformity was instilled in us by the differences between our parents' families, and we assumed others shared the same values, only to discover this was not the case.??

Even though both of my Italian grandparents passed away before I was born, as well as my Uncle Joey, who was disabled and used a wheelchair at age nine, and Uncle Frank, who was murdered, continued to live on through the stories shared by their now-adult children and siblings. During Sunday dinners, they discussed genealogy and practiced advocacy with the younger generation while enjoying traditional Italian cuisine, regardless of the American holiday.?The “adult table” overflowed with crosstalk, banter, witty commentary, and laughter from a diverse group: labor leaders, industrial managers, business owners, a nun (who would say the “Prayer Before Meals” and often added a bit of improvisation), Republicans, Democrats, and a local politician. The tensest moments arose from the rivalry between White Sox and Cubs fans. Despite the playful jabs at each profession and political view, they were made in jest - family love expressed. Teenagers were allowed to sit at the “adult table,” where they could share their opinions; however, they had to be ready for vigorous challenges by my uncles. Meanwhile, the meal duration was flexible despite our set schedule, and the final hour was often spent standing by the open door, chatting.??

The offset to the spirited personalities of the D’Angelo family came from the more measured Borahs.?They were southern Illinois farmers since 1845, German, Methodists, prompt, and punctual.?The Irish blood was added later.?Two of our direct ancestors, a father and son, fought in the U.S. Civil War on the Northern side; the younger one was a drummer boy whom the Confederates captured but later escaped—a good story.?Our lineage includes the notable U.S. Senator William E. Borah, whose wife, Mary, and I corresponded by letter during my college activist days. A trickle of that bloodline traces back to the wife of Martin Luther, Katharina Von Bora (with whom I did not correspond).

?Similarly, the Borah Sunday dinners were a setting for sharing genealogical stories and humor, but this table showcased country cuisine and dry humor.?All foods were grown, raised, picked, or prepared from scratch. Political commentary was infrequent and rarely deviated from my grandfather’s Republican views. An uncle who married into the family was believed to be a Democrat, but that was not a topic of discussion. Following the schedule was automatic, with no reminders needed. Still, there was always ample time for the men to congregate in the living room, smoke, share tales, and stroll to the garage for "a swallow" of whiskey, accompanied by the cautionary words, "Don't tell Grandma." Meanwhile, the women stayed in the kitchen to clean and conspire.

Labor was essential to the continued survival of the family farm.?Thus, tasks were age-inclusive and neighbor-reliant, which included us “city cousins.”?Free time activities in the country were different than in our city.?They included searching for arrowheads in the freshly plowed field, fishing, hiking, and skinny dipping in ponds or rivers, and exploring old forests and abandoned buildings while attempting to avoid wasp nests (I learned that tobacco juice eases the pain of a bite).?

While on vacation, parents would instruct their sons who attended Catholic school to accompany their grandparents to Methodist services and their age-related Bible school on Sundays.?Mom was ecumenical before it was popular. It was a sign of respect. We Catholics studied from the Baltimore Catechism rather than focusing heavily on the Bible. While my Methodist cousins knew Bible verses, my contribution was limited to lines from Bible-based movies like The Ten Commandments.

Family differences were refreshing, making later demands to conform feel stuffy and confining. Because these differences stemmed from family, all physical traits were positive; professions were accessible, travel was encouraged, cuisines were explored, music genres were welcomed, hobbies were unique, and dreams were limitless. This environment allowed new ideas to be embraced instead of considered a threat.

We moved from East Chicago to a “Polish city" in Illinois. The neighborhood plays a chiseling role in our foundation.?It is our first venture into a world of strangers, where smiles are not mandatory, and a kid could be quickly liked or disliked depending on the street, the school, the parish, or old hand-me-down, generational, stereotypical beliefs about ancestral nationality.?This is not a story of woe but of contrasts.

Post Three of the Beginner's Mind. - Neighborhood.

The End of Post Two

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[1] ????In Students for Fair Admissions v. Harvard, 600 U.S. ___(2023), the U.S. Supreme Court held that race-based affirmative action programs in college admissions processes violated the Equal Protection Clause.?However, the decision did not prevent consideration of how race has impacted or influenced the applicant’s life if “tied to a quality of character or unique ability that the particular applicant can contribute to the university.”