Joseph Sabino Mistick: DeSantis could learn a few lessons from our valleys

Whatever lessons presidential candidate and Florida Gov. Ron DeSantis took from his youthful connection to Western Pennsylvania, there are some things he seems to have missed or forgotten.

DeSantis said in his recent memoir, “I was geographically raised in Tampa Bay, but culturally my upbringing reflected the working-class communities in Western Pennsylvania and Northeast Ohio — from weekly church attendance to the expectation that one would earn his keep.”

DeSantis was born in Florida, but his Italian grandparents settled in Aliquippa, and his parents grew up in our area. Political cynics say he is making a campaign play with his claim — he needs Ohio, and Pennsylvania, some say, is purple and within reach.

The people in these old towns in Western Pennsylvania had a lot to teach everybody.

They were tolerant. Newcomers found comfort among their own at first, with ethnic churches serving as the centerpieces of ethnic neighborhoods, but they respected their fellow immigrants from other places. In time, people here celebrated their differences.

People who could have been enemies in Europe found themselves working next to each other in work gangs. Poles and Slovaks and Ukrainians drew on their similar languages to talk over the back fence, comparing notes on their children or the cost of a Sunday chicken.

America worked its magic, and there were Irish-Italian weddings, Serbian-Croatian weddings and other once unlikely matchups. Each group celebrated the holidays in its own way, and, eventually, they all celebrated each other’s holidays.

And learning a few curse words in the languages of the guys you loafed with on the street corner only strengthened your bond.

These families always made room for another plate at the table. No matter how tough things were or how big a crowd they already had to feed, they could always stretch a meal for one more. A newly arrived immigrant or a jobless man during the Great Depression simply had to knock on their back door.

They were not afraid of knowledge. They cherished the chance for their children to get an education, to read and write in the language of their new land. They trusted that their children could decide what to believe, what they deemed was true or not, and they knew that their children would be better for having sorted it out on their own. They came from places in the old country where books were burned and banned, where they were told what to believe, and they had enough of that.

They could take a punch. That’s important because life throws everybody a few punches. The folks who came here from other places had no time for feuds or running squabbles or grudges. And they had no need to prove how tough they were, because everybody was tough, so they dealt with obstacles as they arose and moved on.

Instead of tolerance, DeSantis insists that everyone should see the world as he sees it. Instead of finding room for one more plate at the table, he rounds up asylum seekers and ships them to other states. Instead of trusting knowledge, he bans books and controls what should be taught in public schools. And the guy can’t take a punch, snapping at hard questions, engaging in endless and costly public feuds with anyone who disagrees with him.

DeSantis didn’t learn any of that here.