Frankie’s father wasn’t a mean man, he just didn’t know any better. When he first came to the United States, Italians were seen as the lowest of the low. Signs often graced establishment doors with the writing No Italians or even NO WOPS when they really meant business. WOP means “without papers,” a term that was used to insinuate that Italians were below other immigrants because for one reason or another, they often didn’t have visas when they got to Ellis island. Despite Italians being shunned, they still worked as hard as they could to prove themselves, eventually earning their worth in society’s eyes. “Before I came to this country, soccer was my life, Francesca. I was forced to give it up and you just want to throw it away?” Frankie’s dad tried to get another sentence out but his anger and broken English had him stumbling over his words. He lifted his fingertips to the bottom of his chin and flung them forward; an old Italian gesture that roughly translates to FU. He went on to vent in Italian to his mother Teresa, who sometimes was the only person who would listen to him, or at least pretend to. Content in her brown velvet chair, Teresa would crochet from sun up to sun down while vaguely listening to Frankie’s father’s never-ending rants. She didn’t mind though, as she barely had to speak a word; Frankie’s father spoke enough for them both. While sitting on her bed, Frankie rolled her eyes despite no one being able to see her disdain for her father’s constant comparisons and complaints. She had not taken a nap after school since she was a little girl and today was her first chance in a decade. She was going to enjoy every second of it. As she lay curled on her bed, under the afghan that her grandmother gave her years back, her eyes started to get blurry. She had this weird habit of trying to fight her sleep even if sleep is what she was trying to do. Her eyes slowly danced to the various items she had on her wall: ribbons, family photos, and a glisten from her cornicello which had been hanging on her wall, unworn, for the last 3 years. “Frankieeee, Frankieeeee,” She couldn’t tell if it was her dreams fading in or her dad’s voice fading out, but only a moment later, darkness.
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