Real Italians Have Class...But the Fake Ones Sure Don't! (Final Project)

American reality television stars have no class, and the American public wouldn’t have them any other way. When eight “Italian-American” youths identifying themselves as “guidos” and “guidettes” moved into a beach house in the town of Seaside Heights on the Jersey Shore for a summer of partying and debauchery to be filmed by MTV in all its god-awful glory, it created a pop culture atom bomb and many conversations about identity among viewers, politicians, and civil rights groups. New Jersey’s politicians representing the real-life Jersey Shore have been ill-advisedly harping on a “reality” show that nobody but them takes seriously. The cast boorishly and drunkenly offers viewers copious amounts of hair gel, self-tanner, and egos as big as Rhode Island, but in truth, the only ones taking them at face value are politicians and civil rights groups who just don’t get it.

Glorifying self-proclaimed “guido” values like physical beauty, a Tropicana-colored tan, “wind-proof” hair, and strong Italian ethnic identity, the people of “Jersey Shore” don’t ring true to the average American. Most of us will never encounter Snooki, the pint-size “Italian-American” 21-year old “guidette” (female guido) that has a penchant for topless hot tubbing and frequently saying “FML.” To know the club-going, body-shot taking, sex- and alcohol-loving cast of “Jersey Shore” is to study their words, but maybe not too intently (for fear of liver damage). Snooki, whose much less interesting real name is Nicole Polizzi, borders on comic genius (albeit unintentionally) while musing on her love life in episode four. “He’s a really good guy. That’s the kind of guy I need in my life. I think his name is Ron,” (it was actually Russ). Narcissism mates with idiocy in episode five when Sammie “Sweetheart” Giancola, the vain 22-year old who is the only cast member actually from New Jersey, remarks, “I definitely want to look good for Ronnie's parents...Like, I want them to think like wow, that's her. She's really pretty, and whatever.” The women of the show are vapid, their hair extensions are long, and their breasts are augmented—all these things, though looked down on by society, are strong aspects of their identity, even if the moral majority doesn’t approve of who they choose to be.

The show’s “guido” males are just as outrageous. Ronnie Ortiz-Magro, a burly “juicehead” (guy who works out a lot) from the Bronx, says of housemate Jenny “JWOWW” Farley in episode five, “JWOWW’s pussy must be rainbows and pasta treasure.” Sometimes the show’s denizens can be downright politically explosive like when Angelina Pivarnick, whose stint on the show was short-lived due to her refusal to work regular hours at their assigned summer job selling T-shirts on the boardwalk, comments, “If a girl’s a slut, she should be abused.” Viewers are treated to brief glimmers of “Guido” humanity in episode four from 28-year-old Pauly D (Paul DelVecchio), who owns his own tanning bed back at home in Rhode Island. “I couldn't have sex with my girl, she had her period. I go to take her pants off - she wouldn't let me, no big deal.” This is surprisingly gallant in a man who is willing to kick two girls out of their shore house to make room for two other women that are more likely to have sex with him. One of the show’s biggest stars, Mike Sorrentino, or “The Situation” (his cryptic and vaguely suggestive nickname), even flirts with borderline rapist mentality in episode two. “As far as I know, everybody loves The Situation, and if you don't love The Situation, I'm gonna make you love The Situation.” And it seems that he has, to an
extent—except for politicians and Italian rights groups, of course.

MTV isn’t fooling anyone by feigning innocence of the depravity the people they are presenting and saying that they are just exposing some sort of irreverent youth subculture like on “The Real World” or “The Hills.” However, MTV doesn’t need to defend its transmission of smutty programming. The cast members on “Jersey Shore” just aren’t walking, breathing, Mystic-tanning stereotypes that are harming American society and its foundations. Actually, to credit them with awareness of their status as cultural emblems (before the show exploded onto the pop scene, of course) is to overestimate what caliber of brains might be found under Snooki’s enormous pouf hairdo. These outrageous and vulgar people exist in some realm not immediately adjacent to that of the typical television viewer, and although they do identify themselves as Italian Americans, this doesn’t make them powerful and real emblems of American culture. They’ve been appropriated by civil rights organizations, politicians, and shamelessly exploited by MTV. Verbally abusing and even pitying the orange-toned philanderers and pleasure-seekers of the “Shore” is one thing—taking them seriously as representatives of a culture is quite another.

It’s important to remember that three of the cast aren’t actually Italian, but claim Italian heritage as their identity—loudly, insolently, and with not a little swagger. The use of the word “guido” which in this case refers to an Italian-American male (“Guidette” for females) usually from New York or New Jersey who enjoys faux-tanning, plucking, working out, and looking pretty as well as clubbing and picking up women that are as physically artificial as themselves. It’s a constructed identity that is fairly new. Having been originally contrived as an insult for Italian-American immigrants, “guido” has taken on a new meaning when utilized by Italian-American youths—it might still not be a great word, but a small group of Italian American youngsters is attempting to reclaim it. The immortal words of “guido” Pauly D in the first episode describe how the “Jersey Shore” characters define themselves. “I was born and raised a guido,” he says. “It's just a lifestyle. It's being Italian. It's representing family, friends, tanning, gel.” There it is, and that’s how it should be taken—not that Pauly D should be regarded as a fount of wisdom. Ethnic groups have taken racially coded words and turned them into pop culture gold by appropriation and re-association before, and they can do it again. Pauly D’s explanation is simple, unlike the minefield that the show’s use of the term has stumbled upon, and it should be taken at face value—to do anything else would be giving these “guidos” and “guidettes” far too much credit.

The twenty-somethings of “Jersey Shore” are the heirs to two cultures often stereotyped for their arrogance, narcissism, and general obnoxiousness: American and Italian. Americans love Americans and the U.S., while Italians love Italians and Italy. Why wouldn’t—crucially—some of the children of these cultures be the way they are? As caricatures, not stereotypes, the characters on “Jersey Shore” are priceless and humorous. A nation looking at the dredges of humanity that it has produced at its very lowest levels should approach it with humor and self-criticism. These kids, no matter how much they flaunt their Italian heritage, couldn’t be a more American invention. They are products of the United States’ culture and reality television.

Clearly the only ones taking “Jersey Shore” seriously are those who haven’t seen it. Is New Jersey senator Joseph Vitale sitting at home watching the show each Thursday and counting the number of times Snooki uses the word “guidette” to poorly represent each and every Italian-American? Fighting the program’s stereotypical representation is a losing battle. UNICO, the U.S.’s largest Italian-American service organization, probably has to say something about it. However, let them, not the politicians or the general public, worry about it and argue about semantics, while the rest of us watch the show, laugh at the cast of “Jersey Shore,” and recognize exactly who they represent—a small group of stupid young people.

Mike “The Situation” proclaims in episode two, “Everybody loves me, babies, dogs, ya know, hot girls, cougars. I just have unbelievable mass appeal.” This has turned out to be quite prophetic. Americans love a controversy as well as trashy reality stars, and politicians should just stay out of it—or get their own reality television show and see how many people want to watch.