I have the privilege to twist the pasta at the table of my four story host-home. As my Italian host family passes me bowls of new foods, new sauces and oils, I sit and only hope that my family could feel this love one day, that they could experience this opportunity, be able to chase dreams that weren’t made for us. I’m realizing that this is what my ancestors fought for. It is my duty to be able to push through for them.

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