If you’ve ever been on a night out in Gainesville — better yet, if you’ve ever dared to party in the Swamp (the University of Florida’s campus, including its sports stadium) — you’ve probably had a sobering slice of pizza from the Italian Gator.
I’ve been a Gator, the mascot for the University of Florida, since childhood. My dad went to the University of Florida. My mom went to the University of Florida. My older sister went to the University of Florida. I guess you could say I bleed orange and blue.
My dad went to the University of Florida. My mom went to the University of Florida. My older sister went to the University of Florida. I guess you could say I bleed orange and blue.
At first, I was hesitant to embrace Swamp life — not because it was unfamiliar, but because it felt a little too familiar. Anyone who knows me knows I’ve always been drawn to the road less traveled. However, an acceptance to one of the top schools in the nation was hard to ignore, even if it did mean moving to Gainesville, in north-central Florida. The Swamp, I thought. Certainly I can still pave my own path here.
Now, as my time in the Swamp comes to a close, it’s clear I did carve my own path. I spent a good portion of my time as a Gator outside of the Swamp, studying abroad, chasing something beyond it, which is probably why I’ve always felt a little like an outsider here.
Everyone knows the Italian Gator eatery — it’s practically a rite of passage to stop by — and somehow, I’ve never actually been inside. The irony isn’t lost on me. I’ve only met with my academic advisor twice, both times to get approval to spend entire semesters in Italy.
I made this unconventional academic path possible, and I have the Swamp to thank for the trust and support that allowed me to spend the last two years as, well . . . an Italian Gator.
No, I’m not Italian, nor am I claiming to be with this pithy column title. And even more ironic, I won’t be living in the Swamp as a Gator much longer. But I have to laugh when I pass by the Italian Gator, because in a way it perfectly captures these past two years of my life. Years where I felt like an outsider, but I eventually found my place between worlds — and through travel. My time in Italy, especially, has shaped my career and inspired me the most. Meanwhile, living in the Swamp, where friends knock on my door at any hour, is where I find community, and where I gather the courage to leave.
So as I share my cosmopolitan perspective through this forum — one that celebrates the fusion of America and Italy — it only seems fitting that my column be titled “The Italian Gator.” After all, I’ll always be a Gator, no matter where I go. And I know I’ll keep returning to Italy: the place that let me pave my own path.
