I love ravioli; probably too much. Not just any ravioli, my Nonna’s ravioli (and she knows it). The second we arrive, I ask for ravioli. Not just because it’s delicious, but because of the time we spend together. Ravioli takes hours to prepare, meaning hours of uninterrupted conversation. She always asks about my studies, making sure education comes first, although I ultimately steer the conversation in her direction. Before I ask to hear a new story, we need to mix the shell: semolina, eggs, salt, olive oil, and milk. 

My shell formed during high school. I had a fresh start with high school, and I vowed to be more confident. Before high school, I was anxious about everything, I tucked in a corner at recess to read, and never talked to anyone new. I struggled socially, and knew I had to do something about it. I made the choice to attend High Tech High Mesa. I soon learned my new school was built on relationships. Teachers personally knew every student, and every assignment was done in groups. I started to raise my hand in class, and be more social with peers. Eventually, it came naturally, and while I might still get nervous in front of a crowd, I have learned to have more confidence in myself.

My Nonna loves to talk. As I dice the celery, I listen to her stories of immigration, and being surrounded by a foreign language.  While she sautés the ground beef, she shares stories about growing up in Italy during World War II. Her stories remind me of the resilience my family is built on, adapting to so much, so fast. Once we finish dicing and searing, we combine all the ingredients with the ricotta, making a ravioli filling equal to none.

My family was built on resilience, and I took a long time to learn that. During middle school, I would walk into fourth period math having given up on my homework the night before, then break down crying over a failed test the next day. Not only was HTHM a new start socially, but academically as well. Through the support of teachers and family, I learned perseverance. During my first big project, I designed an infographic. The research was easy, but the graphic design took multiple iterations. I struggled to ask for help, but when I did, I saw that asking for support did not reflect negatively on me.

Now for the hard part: ravioli assembly. We roll the dough into two large sheets of pasta, sandwiching the filling in between. We then cut out and seal each individual ravioli. This process is delicate and frustrating due to the ease of breaking a ravioli. While we stamp, Nonna shares about her day to day life. She talks about Nonno’s appointments, and trips to Costco. While it may sound mundane, I am always grateful to hear that they are still independent. 

Assembly is delicate and careful, like empathy. As a kid, I was described as having “big emotions”. Playing “four-square” I would cry at any small discrepancy. Empathy came with my best friend. He would be the one person to listen to me when I was upset. He had a serious stutter, and I would speak up for him. He taught me to be there for others, and showed me the support one person can provide. This idea of supporting one friend was the start of these “big emotions” becoming empathy.  

I have not yet learned how to make the sauce, there are so many ingredients to remember. Just like there are so many events in my future that are sure to mold me further. However, I am confident my experiences have prepared me for the challenges ahead.