Frank and the Olive Tree

My father, Frank, was born and raised in a small Sicilian town on his family’s farm from the 1950s to the 1970s. He often reminisces fondly about milking his goats, sleeping under the stars, and using the farm’s produce to cook and sustain life. His memories are pleasant, often inducing a smile or laughs from everyone listening in on his stories. Everyone knew everyone, and everyone trusted each other. It was more than just a community; it was a family that embraced customs and traditions that were passed down for centuries -- a family that named all of its children only after close ancestors.

But, even though his tales of a community so loving and tightly linked evoke warm family sentiments, my dad still chose life here in a progressive, industrial country over his simple, tradition-based upbringing in Italy.

My dad, to me, represents the struggle presented in Friedman’s “The Lexus and the Olive Tree.” Half of the world, according to Friedman, was determined to modernize and advance in the global market, while the other half was still cemented to the past. The Lexus epitomizes growth, advancement and progress, and the Olive Tree symbolizes “everything that roots us, anchors us, identifies us and locates us in this world,” (167).

When my father retrospects and recalls his past, his internal conflict is so noticeable. It’s obvious that he loves the life he has created here, living in a fully air-conditioned house, driving a convertible, smoking expensive cigars, and spending summers on the beach. Sure, he revels in his hard work and rewards himself once in awhile. But, each and every Christmas, he still tells us about his own childhood traditions (which included a witch on a broomstick giving kids candy … kind of strange, I know).

He’s clearly still holding onto his customs and roots, reminding us about where we come from and who our ancestors are. His stories are so deeply embedded in tradition. Every ceremony, celebration or even daily family dinners were implanted in traditional songs, prayers and foods. And these cultural practices bonded everyone in the town. Everyone understood and cared about each other. And my father never wants us to forget that.

Yes, Friedman talks about globalization and its benefits and disadvantages, and I agree with his main points. Globalization has increased the standard of living and given everyone the opportunity to participate. Globalization, this new system in practice today, replacing the old Cold War system after the 1980s, has taken over. It is, simply put, the combination of finances, technology, and information spread across the globe, creating a single, unified worldwide market and community.

And in order to take part and personally engage and benefit from it, you need to understand it.

What I think is most important about globalization is the understanding, appreciation and perceptions we can gain and access about the world. Globalization allows us to become more connected to the world, but what good is this connection when we have no fundamental understanding for those we’re talking, reporting or reading about? How can we communicate with or about another country if we’re unappreciative toward its people and customs?

Friedman asserts that "if you can't see the world, and you can't see the interactions that are shaping the world, you surely cannot strategize about the world,” (232).

It’s apparent that Friedman is encouraging and promoting a balance between the Lexus (advancement, progress) and the Olive Tree (tradition, rituals) in order to maximize this new global system.

While I initially thought that my father was conflicted and even torn between his past and present, I now realize that he may just be the perfect balance.

My dad and his stories instilled in us an understanding of another world, so different than our own here. Behind every story, my dad just wanted us to remember our culture and history, but he also still wanted, and wants, us to seek every opportunity we can and progress and accomplish what he couldn’t. My dad wanted us to grow up with an admiration for people, family and community.

And because of that, I am thankful that my father has been both the Lexus and the Olive Tree because he has opened my eyes to the world.