What Do You Say When Someone Tries to Tear Down Your Home?
A Personal Reflection on Italian Dignity in the Face of Steve Bannon’s InsultsBy Gerd Dani, CEO of FreeAstroScience
Have you ever had someone insult the place you call home? Maybe it was a stranger, maybe it was someone who thought they knew better. Either way, it stings. Not because their words are true, but because they try to chip away at something you love. When Steve Bannon, a man who’s never lived a day as an Italian, told us “fuck you” in a public interview, he wasn’t just tossing out a crude phrase. He was trying to shake the foundation of what it means to belong.
But here’s the thing: belonging isn’t something you can take away with a few angry words. It’s something you build, day after day, with every act of kindness, every challenge faced, every moment you choose to stay and fight for the place you love.
What Did Bannon Actually Say, and Why Does It Matter?
Let’s not sugarcoat it. Steve Bannon, former advisor to President Trump, was asked about Italy’s criticism of U.S. ICE agents at the Olympics. His answer? Not just a disagreement, but a direct attack:
“You don’t want ICE in Italy to protect you from the terrorists and criminals you’ve let in? Fine, then we won’t send anyone and we’ll even withdraw the American team from the Olympics. Quote me literally on this: fuck you.”
He didn’t stop there. He called our Prime Minister, Giorgia Meloni, a “globalist” who “played the EU’s game because she needed the money.” He accused our politicians of stealing from their own people. He labeled Italians as “freeloaders” who take advantage of American support. And then, as if to soften the blow, he said, “I love Italians and Rome, you are one of the great countries of the world.”
Why does this matter? Because it’s not just about politics. It’s about respect. It’s about the right to decide our own future, without being bullied or belittled by outsiders. And it’s about the dignity that comes from knowing who we are—no matter what anyone else says.
How Does It Feel to Have Your Home Attacked?
I know what it’s like to feel like an outsider. I was born in Albania in 1986. At five, I came to Italy for medical treatment—a child in a wheelchair, facing a future full of uncertainty. Italy wasn’t just a place on a map. It was hope. It was doctors who didn’t give up on me, teachers who saw my potential, friends who welcomed me even when I spoke with an accent.
I grew up in Emilia-Romagna, studied astronomy in Bologna, and physics in Milan. I survived more surgeries than I can count, including a brain implant and its removal. Through it all, Italy became my home—not by birth, but by choice.
So when someone like Bannon tries to insult Italy, he’s not just talking to politicians. He’s talking to people like me. People who’ve fought to belong. People who know that home is something you build, every single day.
What Does It Mean to Be Italian—By Choice?
Being Italian isn’t about where you’re born. It’s about what you choose, and what you refuse to give up on. I chose Italy because I saw something here: resilience, kindness, a stubborn belief that tomorrow can be better than today.
Italy isn’t perfect. No country is. But its greatness lies in its ability to welcome, to adapt, and to rise above adversity. I’ve lived this firsthand: from the hospital corridors of Bologna to the lecture halls of Milan, from the challenges of disability to the joys of scientific discovery, Italy has been my teacher and my home.
To be Italian is to know that identity is not a birthright, but a daily act of love and resilience. It is to embrace the beauty of our language, the warmth of our communities, and the courage to defend our values—without resorting to the language of hate.
How Do We Respond with Dignity?
It’s tempting to answer insult with insult. But that’s not the Italian way. Our strength is quieter, deeper. It’s in the way we gather around a table, even with those who disagree with us. It’s in our art, our science, our stubborn refusal to give up—no matter how tough things get.
I’ve faced plenty of obstacles: disability, surgeries, the challenge of building a new life in a new country. But Italy taught me to keep going. To never give up. That’s the spirit I see in my neighbors, my colleagues, my friends.
So when someone tries to drag us down, we don’t stoop to their level. We stand taller. We show the world what real dignity looks like.
Why Is Italian Pride Stronger Than Insults?
Italy’s greatness isn’t just in its past. It’s in the way we keep moving forward. We’re a country that’s survived invasions, crises, and even the skepticism of those who don’t understand us. We’re the land of Dante and Fermi, of Rita Levi-Montalcini and Samantha Cristoforetti. We’re every immigrant who found a new life here, every scientist who dared to dream, every teacher who refused to give up on a struggling student.
Our pride isn’t about being better than others. It’s about being true to ourselves.
Key Finding:
Italian dignity is lived every day—in our schools, our hospitals, our piazzas, and our laboratories. It’s the quiet determination to never give up, to keep learning, and to keep welcoming those who want to belong.
What Can We Learn—and How Do We Move Forward?
So, what do we do when someone insults us? We remember who we are. We keep building, keep learning, keep welcoming those who share our values. We don’t let outsiders define us.
If you’re reading this and you’ve ever felt like an outsider, know this: Italy has room for you, too. Our pride isn’t about shutting people out. It’s about lifting each other up.
Final Thoughts
I’ve faced more than my share of obstacles. But Italy taught me the most important lesson: never give up. That’s the spirit that will carry us forward, no matter what anyone says.
Let’s answer insults not with anger, but with the dignity of our actions, the generosity of our hearts, and the unbreakable bond that unites all who call Italy home.
Grazie, Italia. For everything.
“Our dignity isn’t given to us by oay home, Steve.*
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