For the past few months, I could never really understand the relationship between my host mother Daniella and her son Paulo. It honestly came across as some kind of paradox.

One night in particular sums up my feelings: when I came home to see Paulo and his friends in the kitchen. They were drinking wine and eating dinner, and then they left for the night. When Daniella saw the huge mess they’d left behind, she was angry.

I imagined a mother would normally call their kids back in and force them to clean up the mess. Instead, Daniella began tidying up. I offered to help, but she resolutely said no to me. Daniella still gave Paulo an earful later on, but she cleaned it herself. I noticed she does this a lot. And because I still didn’t understand how most Italian families function, I was confused.

It’s certainly not the only time I’ve seen something like this take place. With unemployment for Italians younger than 30 at about 40 percent, Paulo is one of many unemployed young adults. Daniella, meanwhile, always pushes him to try and find part-time work, to study important skills, like English, in his free time and focus less on his friends or girlfriend.

Yet despite her actions to make him more independent, Daniella gives Paulo plenty of reasons to stay where he is. At 8 o’clock almost every night, she serves him a two-course dinner. She gives him a cash allowance — he used it one day to buy an expensive leather jacket. And every day she does laundry and cleans the house, while Paulo is often playing video games.

I’ve heard from both Daniella and several teachers that it isn’t uncommon for sons to be so dependent on their families, even after leaving home. I’ve heard that some Italian sons still don’t do their own laundry even after they’re 30.

I don’t view this kind of relationship as good or bad, but it is puzzling. In contrast to Italy, I’m from a culture where it’s expected for kids to leave for college after high school, spending most of four years away from their family in a small apartment. All of that education will eventually lead children toward a self-sufficient job — and doing their own laundry. So how did this opposite dynamic come about in Italy?

One of my Italian history classes recently gave me the answer I was looking for. From the 1950s-1970s, there was something called the “economic miracle.” Italy became industrialized, with the north creating more industry jobs and purchasable goods that boosted living standards for many normal Italians.

However, all of this urbanization also made Italian families more isolated — fewer piazzas and collective festivals, more televisions and dedication to supporting their southern families. This led to more privacy, but also to families becoming more closed in and much more dependent on each other.

It’s the after effects of such an event that I’ve been seeing in Italy. So many families grew up in a culture where their families were most of what they had. That created a simple, powerful ideal: Family trumps the rest. Through all the arguments, disagreements and frequent clashes, family is still the most important thing for Italians.

That’s remained the same today, even though youth like Paulo sometimes don’t feel this way. With this idea of families being too dependent on each other, it’s not enough to break through that stronger idea of family sticking together.

So as much as Paulo often frustrates Daniella, it’s clear why she wouldn’t have it any other way.

Max Antonucci is a junior newspaper and online journalism major. His column appears every Tuesday in Pulp. Visit his website at www.MaxwellAntonucci.com, find him on Twitter at @DigitalMaxToday or email him at meantonu@syr.edu.

Published on November 18, 2013 at 9:45 pm