Minor in Italian Studies
Matias Sur, 2016
What inspired you to choose your major and/or minor in Italian Language and Culture?
When I was a young boy in Córdoba, Argentina, my grandfather Antonio would speak to me in piemontese, the dialect of the Piemonte region in Italy. I was unable to understand what he said to me, but other members of my mom’s side of the family, who had grown up in the tightly knit piemontese colony in Córdoba, understood him and could even respond to him in the dialect. I was deeply moved by this reality. Once we moved to the United States, I often reflected about the power of language and its ability to carry history, memory, and belonging across borders. From the moment I saw my family communicate to each other in another language, I wanted to understand it. My family’s history of immigration from Italy to Argentina fascinated me, and that desire to understand gradually lit the flame that led me to learn Italian. From the moment I arrived at George Mason in Fall 2012 until my graduation in December 2016, I did not miss one single semester of Italian. What began as a desire to understand my grandfather’s words became the foundation of my academic life, and even leading me to pursue a MA and a PhD in Italian.
What challenges did you face as a language and culture learner, and how did you overcome them?
Like many Mason students, I commuted and worked multiple jobs while carrying a full course load. I dreamed of studying abroad, but this opportunity was financially out of reach for my family. So, I had to find a way to bring Italy to me. Through the Italian courses offered at Mason, I immersed myself in the opera, film, literature, and music that was presented to me in my classes. I remember writing down the Italian songs that my professors played at the start of classes so I could listen to them at home or while I drove. I even downloaded the TuneIn app so that I could have access to Italian radio stations during my commute, which allowed me to train my ear on-the-go. When I watched films in Italian, I followed along with subtitles, and I remember clicking “stop” every time a new phrase was used so I could write it down. When I was utterly lost, I consulted a dictionary I kept nearby. It was difficult, but the difficulty did not discourage me. Rather, it motivated me. For me, language learning became an act of discipline, creativity, persistence—and, best of all, joy.
What cultural insights or perspectives did you gain through your language and culture studies?
While at Mason, studying Italian gave me a new lens through which to understand my own life and my family’s experiences as immigrants. I began to see more clearly the shared values between Italy and Argentina: strong family bonds, emotional expressiveness, and a certain lightness in the face of hardship. Learning Italian also helped me understand my own life by giving me the space to zoom out and analyze my immigrant experience in the United States from a broader perspective. Curiously, this immersion made me feel part of the international world while also bringing me closer to home. It was deeply therapeutic. I felt alive in ways I had never experienced in the classroom before. It was a breath of fresh air, a soothing balm to the loneliness and the longing I experienced. Whereas the rest of college life felt like a performance, Italian gave me an opportunity to simply be.
What is one surprising or deeply meaningful moment you experienced while learning a new language?
I remember watching Federico Fellini’s I vitelloni (1953) for our class, and I was absolutely blown away. I remember crying the first time I saw it because I felt so drawn to the main character, Moraldo, who struggled between staying in the comfort of his hometown and risking everything to pursue a life beyond his small town. This tension resonated deeply with me then, and it still does to this day. At twenty years old, I was uncertain about my future, but I was certain about my desire to master Italian. I really think that I vitelloni asked questions that I had already been asking myself, without being fully conscious about it: Are you willing to enter the unknown? Are you willing to sacrifice comfort for growth? In many ways, it echoed the decisions my parents had made when they chose to come to the United States. Most immigrants have to delve into the unknown when they make their journey. It made me realize that when we choose what we desire, the pursuit of this desire makes us feel free. Freedom lies in choosing what we truly desire even when the path forward is uncertain.
Are there any faculty or staff members who made a difference at Mason?
Professor Kristina Olson was, without exaggeration, my Virgil. She was an intellectual beacon through some of my most formative years at Mason. She helped me see that Italian was not simply a language, but also an entryway into the humanities and the cultivation of a good life. I was struck by her devotion to her vocation, her confidence, and the passion she brought to the classroom. I witnessed, for the first time, someone whose role as an educator was not merely a means to communicate ideas, but also a responsibility to humanity. While George Mason may be my alma mater institutionally, Professor Olson embodied what alma mater truly means to me. She did not simply teach me Dante. She also taught me how to read my own life more carefully, and for having received this gift, I am truly grateful.
Which accomplishment during your time at Mason are you most proud of?
I am most proud of my consistency in having taken Italian every single semester from Fall 2012 through December 2016. I did this even during semesters when I took 18 credits and worked a part-time internship and refereed soccer games. I remember scheduling my internship around my Italian classes, so that I would leave on Mondays and Wednesdays to make it in time for class at 3pm.
I will admit: there were moments in my college career when I considered dropping Italian because it “wasn’t necessary,” or it “complicated my schedule.” But I couldn’t walk away from something I loved. I chose passion over convenience, and that decision shaped my academic path. I give the credit, to my mom, as well, who advised me that I shouldn’t back away from Italian since I loved it so much.
Where do you imagine yourself 10 years from now, and what vision and preparation will help you reach that future?
My professional path has been non-linear. In 2018, when I asked Professor Olson if she could write me a recommendation letter for my MA application to Notre Dame, I held an office job at a company, and she told me: “I never saw you working in an office, Matías.” Mentors have a way of shining light on parts of us that are hidden even from ourselves.
While at Notre Dame, I encountered Antonello Venditti’s song Compagno di scuola, whose final lines ask:
“Compagno di scuola, compagno per niente, ti sei salvato? O sei entrato in banca pure tu?”“Classmate of mine, classmate without a role. Did you save yourself? Or did you—even you—end up working for a bank?”
Truly, those lines stayed with me because they reveal the tension felt by anyone choosing to remain faithful to what they love. Even to this day, these lines impact me because they help me question how faithful I am to the future I want for myself.
In ten years, I see myself as a university professor, continuing to ask questions and hear the questions of my students. My inquisitive nature has always moved me to ask questions wherever I go, and I know that’s not stopping anytime soon. As a humanist, my vision is that questions protect our humanity. They are not merely tools for discovery, but they also defend truth, beauty, and goodness. I hope to cultivate in my students a lifelong love of inquiry so that, wherever life leads them, they may think courageously, live deliberately, and remain faithful to who they are becoming.
What strengths or experiences do you want to highlight as you enter the next stage of your life?
The greatest strength I have developed throughout my time as a student is patience. A PhD requires years of sustaining thinking, writing, revising, rethinking, rewriting, and even restudying. It is a cycle that demands humility and endurance. But beyond academic discipline, I have learned patience toward myself and toward those who have supported me along the way. A doctoral journey affects not only the student but also family and friends. Their example has given me a model I hope to emulate for my future students and colleagues.
I must add: I did not learn patience by experiencing it passively. Rather, I learned it by recognizing that it was a necessary requirement for the pursuit of something meaningful. As I enter the next stage of my life, I trust that this patience will guide me long after my degree. If patience has shaped me, it is because so many others practiced it first.
What advice would you give to future students studying a new language at Mason?
Languages unite. Mason students are only miles away from one of the most international cities in the world. Mason students live in Northern Virginia, a diverse area where immigrants from all over the world flock to the United States for a better life—my family being one of them. Mason students have access to professors, universities, non-profits, internships, study abroad opportunities, and programs that make it possible for American students to stay connected to the rest of the world. It truly is an international university. I hope Mason students can recognize that the power of an education is not in the diploma, but in their willingness to use the education they have received to be a force for good in the world. Learning languages opens doors not only to careers, but to the rare and beautiful responsibility of becoming a bridge between worlds.
Is there an unforgettable or funny memory from your time on Mason’s campus that you would like to share?
Oh yes, absolutely. At an end-of-year-celebration in May 2015, I believe someone had asked me to perform the famous aria, “Vesti la giubba,” from Ruggero Leoncavallo’s Pagliacci. When the lyrics call for the character to powder his face, I improvised. I did not have any flour to powder my face, but the closest thing available to me was a plastic bowl filled with mayonnaise. Professor Olson tried to stop me. She couldn’t. Had I stuck only to the lyrics, I doubt it would have been very memorable. But sticking mayonnaise on my face was something only a clown would do to make it a memorable event for everyone.