Ferraro example shines on

Rita Ciolli is editor of the Newsday editorial pages.

Geraldine Ferraro still has many stories to tell.

She enters history as the first woman to run for vice president on a major party's ticket. For those of us who watched her up close, she's a reminder of the collective Italian-American experience, a bridge between what was and what is. For future New Yorkers from other lands, Ferraro may be an example of both the difficulties and the rewards that go along with being in that first or second generation, the one that makes the pivot from the old country and the old world to the new.

Her story can be understood in the moment by comparing it to the election of Barack Obama as president. African-Americans were united and proud about their success. A quarter-century earlier, women and all people with roots in Italy shared in the excitement as the congresswoman from Queens broke their barriers.

In their first campaign stop as the 1984 Democratic ticket, Walter Mondale and Ferraro appeared on the steps of Queens Borough Hall. Crowds of women held up their baby girls and men hoisted daughters on their shoulders to witness history. Days earlier, when she accepted the Democratic nomination in San Francisco in a stunning white suit, a good chunk of the nation's population and a lot of New Yorkers with vowels at the end of their names saw victory -- whether they shared her politics or not.

Like many immigrants who came here for a better life, Ferraro's parents worked hard at menial jobs, despite their smarts and skills. Her mother, Antonetta, like the many other Conchettas and Providenzias, wanted the American dream of a high school education but had to drop out of school to support the family. Those disappointments gave them the cast-iron determination to make sure their sons and daughters would be the first generation to go to college and professional schools.

And those children -- like Ferraro, who never forgot Antonetta's career of crocheting beads on wedding dresses -- never lost the drive. Ferraro went to law school at night and taught elementary school during the day, accomplishments that acknowledged her parents' sacrifice.

What Ferraro couldn't overcome were the ethnic stereotypes that cling to any group that's different from the one that came before. For her, being in public life meant defending against a "Godfather" narrative attached to her by political enemies and a competitive media. Ferraro took the arrows, and she did it gracefully.

Ferraro was a transitional New York female candidate. Just a decade before, all of the feminists who wanted to support female candidates could fit into Rep. Bella Abzug's cramped district office in Manhattan. Abzug had to wear big hats and speak loudly to get attention, becoming a caricature to get the recognition she needed to succeed. By the time Ferraro came along, women didn't have to be outsiders; they had learned enough and had the polish to play an insider's game.

But Ferraro's experience still had roots in the discrimination of the past. When she asked why she got paid less than her fellow prosecutors in the Queens district attorney's office, she was told the men have families to support. She asked why their wives weren't working.

That was a classic Ferraro response. She was informal, direct and genuine. She talked fast and sassy. She wore what she had in her closet and what she liked. And she knew where she came from -- after all she wasn't allowed to forget it, and embracing it gave her strength.

In her time, Ferraro walked the most difficult of paths, striving to be a modern woman but not losing the values of loyalty and family that were at her core. Her story is worth remembering: Success comes through education and hard work, it's difficult to shake the hyphen-American from your identity, and it's challenging -- and rewarding -- to be the first.