I’ve always felt some imposter syndrome about being Italian American. Even though most of my family has never even been to Italy, we eat pasta instead of ham on Christmas, and we indulge the loud, boisterous Italian stereotype.

As a kid, I clung to Italian characters I saw in TV shows, movies, and, of course, video games. I’ve always been proud that the video game mascot, Mario, is of Italian origin, just like me. But as I’ve gotten older and tried to reckon with what being Italian American means to me, I’ve learned that I have more in common with Wario than his inspiration.