My Family’s History

    To begin the journey into my family’s history, I decided to call my grandfather (or as I call him, “papou”,) to talk to him about how he came to America. His former name, Stelious Kitsos, had been changed in 1951 at Ellis Island when he became what I know him as, Stanley Ketsios. He grew up in a small village in the Peloponnese region of Greece. At sixteen years old, his town was being occupied by Guerillas, so he was separated from his mother and he and his sister were placed on a plane to America, starting their new lives as orphans. He was taken in by his uncle who lived in Chicago, and he hasn’t left the city since. Being a young immigrant in America, there were struggles. He barely knew English, had almost no money and little education. My grandfather told me that when he started school in America, at sixteen years old, they placed him in the second grade because of how far behind he was. Since then, my grandfather has come far and, despite being born in Greece, he now considers himself a Greek-American. 

    My family still identifies as Greek-American. We hold onto our Greek heritage by speaking Greek, going to church and continuing traditions while also engaging in an American lifestyle. Being a second generation Greek-American can sometimes be hard. For the most part, I try to not let it define me too much so that I can still be perceived normally and assimilate naturally. However, with a name like Matina, it’s difficult. My name doesn’t even come close to the traditional American names. Despite it being a common name in Greece, it stands out a lot here in America. It is a Greek tradition to name your children after the fathers parents. My dad’s mothers name was Stamatina. I was named after her, but go by the shortened version, Matina. Even though I used to hate my parents for giving me such an unconventional name, I’ve come to like it and realized that it’s what makes me unique in America.