You can read all the essays and books about Italian migration, with data and figures—but nothing compares to a true story to immerse yourself in the everyday challenges it brings.
Because migration isn’t made of statistics and numbers, but of women, men, and children who must relearn how to live, often through struggle.
Emanuela, I’m glad you said that. It’s so true that stats don’t have a soul but personal stories do. I’m happy to share and make people aware of struggles one can go through before he or she can finally be better and live a normal or better life. 🙏
Comme cela a dû être difficile, tu nous le fais bien sentir! Cela me rappelle comment les enfants peuvent être méchants dans une cour d’école. Et, même si j’étais une québécoise dans une école québécoise et francophone, j’ai des souvenirs de moments pénibles avec des amis ou pendant les récréations. Tu touches une corde sensible et universelle.
Tu a tout à fait raison Francine, je pense que beaucoup d’enfants vivent des situations semblables et je souhaite que des enfants lisent ce témoignage pour les sensibiliser.
Hi Tino, thank you for bringing back memories. You have much better recall than I have. I think you must have been taking notes in anticipation of this😊. When we arrived, 10 years earlier, St Simon was not yet built. I had to go to St Thomas on St Urbain to start grade 1. I went with Tino, he must have been in grade 2 I think. I remember sitting on the steps of the auditorium, eating lunch by myself not understanding a word. The beginning of all immigrants. It is interesting how fear of others who are not like them brings dislike, if not hatred in some people. I remember the taunts and slurs. You persevered, became fluently trilingual, had a successful business career, raised three great sons. Not bad for an esti de spagatt. I am sure the difficulties and tribulations in those early years moulded you differently than perhaps having remained in Italy would have. Our experiences shape us. Looking forward to the next chapter.
Tu m'impressionnes cher Tino, j'aime te suivre et te lire. Je me rappelle du temps où on travaillait ensemble il y a de cela plusieurs années, et que tu me parlais de laisser ton histoire dans un livre… Bravo de réaliser et de faire arriver ton rêve …
P.S. J'ADORE ton cover et titre de livre, magnifique et très représentatif !
Merci ma chère Louise, toujours content d’avoir de tes nouvelles. C’est vrai que j’ai toujours eu le désir d’écrire et aujourd’hui j’ai le temps et plus d’outils pour le faire. Merci de me lire et à bientôt.
I really enjoyed your story.It must have been challenging to be an immigrant in a new country.
It meant starting over in every way.New surroundings,two new languages and a culture that felt unfamiliar.You found ways to cope and make new friends.
I could imagine you as a young boy counting the dots on the ceiling and making games up in your mind.The raindrops in the window and other creative things you did.
I found myself thinking of my childhood and my classroom.I was bored but I understood the language.
You must have been really bored when you didn’t even know which language you were listening to.
It’s amazing how children can adapt.I look forward to to your next chapter.
Thank you Catherine, it’s so nice to have your feedback, and to share what an emigrant kid can go through. But, yes, we do adapt and somehow these things makes us stronger.
Nella mia piccola realtà di immigrata da una regione all’altra ma sempre in Italia quando ero piccola a soli 3 anni, ho vissuto questo senso di spaesamento. Ovviamente non posso confrontare una esperienza così completa e radicale come la tua, ma ricordo che al tempo ancora si parlava il dialetto e per me era una lingua completamente incomprensibile…
Grazie per la grazia e la profondità con cui ci racconti tutte le più piccole emozioni, siamo tutti in quell’aula con te a contare i buchi 🕳️
Beautiful! Expressed in details and exactitude what I know an immigrant child went through each single day at school. Parents and relatives or adults had no idea what a school day was like for an immigrant child in a french school. Cannot wait for your next chapter. Love to purchase your book as soon as it’s available!
I did not mention Angelo in this newsletter because we had not met yet at that time. But I’ll give you a scoop and you should know that Angelo was my first real friend not long after arriving in Montréal. He too freshly from a little town of the same province in Italy. We have remained inseparable since then. Through the ups and downs of life we have been in it together. Thank you Angelo for being there for almost 60 years. And counting…….
What a hard start to your first year in Quebec and a new school. I’m glad you got that beautiful smile, how gallant of you to leap that fence and present the flower . Loving your story Tino
Oh, the blows to the frightened, young, and sad soul! My heart was breaking for you as you cried alone and thought of your friends and the home you loved. With details and pictures, you've brought history alive by sharing your own story, and I'm so impressed. I'm also anxious to own a copy of your book, so I don't have to leave that poor little boy crying alone: I can flip the page and find out what comes next! Chop, chop!-Back to work for you! (Thanks so much; I love a good read.)
Wow Cindy, you move me with your words. Thank you. Well happy to say that it’s quite true that what does not kill you makes you stronger. You will get a copy of my book as soon I will wrap it up.
C’est déchirant ce que tu as décrit. Je suis bien contente de t’avoir entendu dire, ce matin, que tu avais bouclé la boucle et que tu t’en portes bien. À la prochaine!
You can read all the essays and books about Italian migration, with data and figures—but nothing compares to a true story to immerse yourself in the everyday challenges it brings.
Because migration isn’t made of statistics and numbers, but of women, men, and children who must relearn how to live, often through struggle.
Thank you, Tino, for sharing your story.
Emanuela, I’m glad you said that. It’s so true that stats don’t have a soul but personal stories do. I’m happy to share and make people aware of struggles one can go through before he or she can finally be better and live a normal or better life. 🙏
De plus Mme Martineau, aurait dû te donner un diplôme pour avoir passé avec succès ta première année à Montréal après avoir émigré d’Italie.
Wow quelle leçon de vie et tu nous fais vivre ce que tu ressentais à l’époque. J’ai hâte de lire le reste.
Bravo
Merci François, tu es sur la liste d’envoi. Mais je ne suis pas trop pressé de le finir. J’ai encore des histoires à vivre. 😉
Comme cela a dû être difficile, tu nous le fais bien sentir! Cela me rappelle comment les enfants peuvent être méchants dans une cour d’école. Et, même si j’étais une québécoise dans une école québécoise et francophone, j’ai des souvenirs de moments pénibles avec des amis ou pendant les récréations. Tu touches une corde sensible et universelle.
Tu a tout à fait raison Francine, je pense que beaucoup d’enfants vivent des situations semblables et je souhaite que des enfants lisent ce témoignage pour les sensibiliser.
Hi Tino, thank you for bringing back memories. You have much better recall than I have. I think you must have been taking notes in anticipation of this😊. When we arrived, 10 years earlier, St Simon was not yet built. I had to go to St Thomas on St Urbain to start grade 1. I went with Tino, he must have been in grade 2 I think. I remember sitting on the steps of the auditorium, eating lunch by myself not understanding a word. The beginning of all immigrants. It is interesting how fear of others who are not like them brings dislike, if not hatred in some people. I remember the taunts and slurs. You persevered, became fluently trilingual, had a successful business career, raised three great sons. Not bad for an esti de spagatt. I am sure the difficulties and tribulations in those early years moulded you differently than perhaps having remained in Italy would have. Our experiences shape us. Looking forward to the next chapter.
Tu m'impressionnes cher Tino, j'aime te suivre et te lire. Je me rappelle du temps où on travaillait ensemble il y a de cela plusieurs années, et que tu me parlais de laisser ton histoire dans un livre… Bravo de réaliser et de faire arriver ton rêve …
P.S. J'ADORE ton cover et titre de livre, magnifique et très représentatif !
Merci ma chère Louise, toujours content d’avoir de tes nouvelles. C’est vrai que j’ai toujours eu le désir d’écrire et aujourd’hui j’ai le temps et plus d’outils pour le faire. Merci de me lire et à bientôt.
Merci Toni de partager, vous êtes devenu un excellent écrivain 🙏🇨🇦
Hi Tino.
I really enjoyed your story.It must have been challenging to be an immigrant in a new country.
It meant starting over in every way.New surroundings,two new languages and a culture that felt unfamiliar.You found ways to cope and make new friends.
I could imagine you as a young boy counting the dots on the ceiling and making games up in your mind.The raindrops in the window and other creative things you did.
I found myself thinking of my childhood and my classroom.I was bored but I understood the language.
You must have been really bored when you didn’t even know which language you were listening to.
It’s amazing how children can adapt.I look forward to to your next chapter.
Thank you Catherine, it’s so nice to have your feedback, and to share what an emigrant kid can go through. But, yes, we do adapt and somehow these things makes us stronger.
Nella mia piccola realtà di immigrata da una regione all’altra ma sempre in Italia quando ero piccola a soli 3 anni, ho vissuto questo senso di spaesamento. Ovviamente non posso confrontare una esperienza così completa e radicale come la tua, ma ricordo che al tempo ancora si parlava il dialetto e per me era una lingua completamente incomprensibile…
Grazie per la grazia e la profondità con cui ci racconti tutte le più piccole emozioni, siamo tutti in quell’aula con te a contare i buchi 🕳️
Bravo
You have an impressive ability, Tino, to recall childhood assimilation struggles without resorting to maudlin cliches.
Beautiful! Expressed in details and exactitude what I know an immigrant child went through each single day at school. Parents and relatives or adults had no idea what a school day was like for an immigrant child in a french school. Cannot wait for your next chapter. Love to purchase your book as soon as it’s available!
Thank-You
🙏🏻
I did not mention Angelo in this newsletter because we had not met yet at that time. But I’ll give you a scoop and you should know that Angelo was my first real friend not long after arriving in Montréal. He too freshly from a little town of the same province in Italy. We have remained inseparable since then. Through the ups and downs of life we have been in it together. Thank you Angelo for being there for almost 60 years. And counting…….
What a hard start to your first year in Quebec and a new school. I’m glad you got that beautiful smile, how gallant of you to leap that fence and present the flower . Loving your story Tino
Oh, the blows to the frightened, young, and sad soul! My heart was breaking for you as you cried alone and thought of your friends and the home you loved. With details and pictures, you've brought history alive by sharing your own story, and I'm so impressed. I'm also anxious to own a copy of your book, so I don't have to leave that poor little boy crying alone: I can flip the page and find out what comes next! Chop, chop!-Back to work for you! (Thanks so much; I love a good read.)
Wow Cindy, you move me with your words. Thank you. Well happy to say that it’s quite true that what does not kill you makes you stronger. You will get a copy of my book as soon I will wrap it up.
C’est déchirant ce que tu as décrit. Je suis bien contente de t’avoir entendu dire, ce matin, que tu avais bouclé la boucle et que tu t’en portes bien. À la prochaine!
Allo Louise, merci, oui le timing de notre café ce matin était parfait pour ça. À bientôt 😘
Thank you Loretta, there are certain things that stick with you. 😉
Thank you Sally. 😘🙏