I was well into adulthood before I realized that I was an American. Of course, I had been born in America and had lived there all of my life, but somehow it never occurred to me that just being a citizen of the United States meant I was an American.

Americans were people who ate peanut butter and jelly on mushy white bread that came out of plastic packages. Me?? I was Italian. For me, as I am sure for most second-generation Italian-American children who grew up in the 40s or 50s, there was a definite distinction drawn between US and THEM.