Servant Leaders: Community, Culture and Connections - 2025 Adelaide Italian Festival

In 1920, just over a century ago, Antonio’s son Peter, a carpenter and undertaker, was elected Mayor of the then Town of Kensington and Norwood. He was the first person of Italian ancestry to be elected to that office but as Vini Ciccarello and I can attest, he was certainly not the last.

Peter Gannoni only served one term as mayor (1920-1922) but served an astonishing 37 years on Council over a 50-year period – I have some catching up to do!

Vini was elected mayor of the former City of Kensington and Norwood in 1991, and my predecessor Laurie Fioravanti was elected mayor of this City in 1997, having previously served as mayor of the former City of Payneham for six years (1981-1987).

On 17 October 2005, following Laurie’s passing in June that year, I won the first of six elections as mayor, making it 34 consecutive years our city has had a mayor of Italian ancestry.

But the truth is I probably shouldn’t even be here. For those of you who remember the 1990s sitcom The Golden Girls’, you’ll recall that in nearly every episode Estelle Getty, who played the character of Sophia Petrillo, would say this: “Picture this: Sicily, 1946. A beautiful girl…” Well, picture this: “Calabria, 1960. A beautiful girl is planning to marry the man of her dreams.” That beautiful girl was my late mother, Rosina Pangaro, then only 21 years old, who was planning to marry my father, Rocco Bria.

The problem was my Nonni on my mother’s side did not want the marriage to go ahead. They knew my mother marrying my father meant their youngest daughter migrating to Australia and probably never seeing her again – a prophecy that ultimately came true. In fact, so fierce was their opposition to the union that they refused to attend the wedding.

Shortly after my parents married on 23 April 1960, my father left for Australia but not before my mother fell pregnant and later gave birth to my sister, Franca, in 1961. In the meantime, my father arrived in Australia on 1 August 1960 while my mother went to live with her in-laws. Sadly, my sister Franca fell ill and died at the age of one. The story goes that my mother’s father deliberately waited until he knew it was too late to save Franca before calling a doctor.

In the space of two years and five months between my father’s arrival in Australia and mother’s arrival on 1 January 1963, my mother did not see her husband, she was disowned by her parents, and she lost a child. And yet, faced with the choice of staying in Italy and going back to her family or sailing half-way around the world to start a new life in Australia, she chose Australia. My mother is the most courageous woman I have ever known.

From a fairly young age - exactly when I cannot say – I came to understand my family’s place and indeed the place of other Italian families in our community. Sacrifice and struggle were part of everyday life for my parents – as I’m sure they were countless other Italian migrants in the 1950s and 1960s.

Sadly, so too was racism, discrimination and at times, a sense of social isolation; a feeling that somehow, they didn’t belong here or at least were made to feel they didn’t belong here. When I describe the Italian migrant experience in Australia, I like to adapt Winston Churchill’s famous quote following the Battle of Britain: “Never in the history of human movement, have so few come here, with so little, and given so much.”

As the years passed, I came to both understand and appreciate what Australia had given my parents; the life-changing opportunity to come out from the cold shadows of poverty into the warm sunshine of prosperity – relatively speaking. Both my parents came from peasant stock. My father had limited schooling – perhaps Year 3 or 4 level – and before his compulsory military service, he worked in a flour mill.

My mother, on the other hand, had no education at all even though my Nonno Domenico was a Maresciallo in the Carabinieri, which suggested he was on a reasonable salary. As a child, my mother learned how to herd goats, which came in handy later as an adult when she had six children to look after!

So how did my family’s Italian migration story shape me into being the community leader I am today? It goes all the way back to 1986 when I failed Year 12, something which devastated me at the time but upon reflection, was probably the most valuable lesson I learned in my personal and professional lives. The shock of failing Year 12 quickly turned to disappointment, the disappointment turned to embarrassment, and the embarrassment turned into shame. That shame nagged at me for eight years. I developed a complex about it.

As a young person, life can sometimes seem cruel; you feel everything and everyone is conspiring against you, and at the time it certainly felt that way for me. But things can also change quickly, and often when you least expect it. As we all know, Australia is a land of opportunity and, by extension, second chances. My second chance was going back to repeat Year 12 at Marden Senior College in 1994. I was not going to let 1986 or the eight years of drift that followed, define me. The lesson I learned from that experience is that failure is not final but merely one step in the long path forward towards success. From Marden Senior College I went to Flinders University – the first in my family to do so along with my brother Frank – and I graduated with a Bachelor of Arts Honours Degree in 1998.

It was during this time when I was in my mid-twenties, I found myself constantly asking myself these questions: “How do you say thank you to a country that has given your parents a shot at a better life for themselves and their children?” “What does that ‘thank you’ look like?” “Can that debt ever be repaid?”

Those questions sat with me for a few years until 1997, when I believed I found the answer, and the answer was serving my community through elected office. Above all else, I wanted to repay my parent’s so-called ‘debt’ to Australia where it all began, right here in Norwood. Because it was Cairns Road – just off The Parade - where my father first lived with his brother, Frank, when he arrived in Adelaide. The 1997 Council elections were the last to be conducted at the polling booth, with all subsequent elections conducted by postal ballot. I ran as a Councillor in Torrens Ward and was fortunate to get elected.I expected it was going to be a tough assignment but what I didn’t expect was the overt racism I experienced during the campaign.

As a teenager at Thorndon High school, I was used to racist comments and slurs. The Italian and Greek kids at my school were known as the ‘Wog Squad’ and now as a candidate I came face-to-face with racism again. When my friend, Daniel, held out one of my ‘How to Vote Card” to a woman on polling day, she asked him if I was Italian. When he replied I was, she told him she would not vote for me before adding: “Do you people want to take over the country?” Not an ideal introduction into local government but in many ways that incident shaped my approach to leadership throughout my 28 years in public life on Council.

From that moment on, I told myself that if I got elected, I had to be twice as honest and work twice as hard as the Aussies to win the respect of the community, lest I be seen as someone who was ‘on the take’ or with the connections to the Mafia.
As sad, silly and even paranoid as that sounds, trust me, there are people out there who still hold those views about me, Italian Councillors and Italian Council staff!

Racism is something I still experience. Sometimes its subtle, sometimes it’s not so subtle but it’s always there. I only have to scratch the surface.

Faced with this scenario, it would have been tempting to shrink and try to downplay or even hide my Italian heritage by not attending events held at regional Italian clubs, not attending the Festa della Repubblica celebrations, not showing my face at festas, not praying at local Catholic churches, not eating gelato in public, and of course, staying away from the notorious Italian establishment Café Buongiorno. Those things, I refuse to do.

I am proud of my Italian ancestry and I am proud to be carrying on a legacy of service to Local Government in this part of the world started by Peter Gannoni a century ago. In a profession like ‘politics’ where authenticity is your only currency and voters can see and smell a ‘fake’ a mile away, to deny my Italian heritage would be to deny my very existence, or at the very least decrease my value as an elected official.

Strangely, I did not encounter any racism when I first ran for Mayor in 2005 but I do recall an incident at a meeting shortly after the election when a Council Chief Executive Officer approached me and said, “So, another Italian makes it to the top.”

In another election, one of my opponents constantly referred to me as ‘Roberto’, (even though I have always gone by Robert) a not-so-subtle reminder to voters of my Italian heritage, just in case they were unsure about the cultural origins of my last name.
And, it was not so long ago that one former Councillor referred to me, the Council’s Chief Executive Officer and former head engineer, as the ‘Norwood Mafia.’

But here I am, still standing and unapologetically proud of my Italian heritage. Two days ago, I recorded 28 years on Council and just under a month ago, I chalked up 20 years as mayor. Everyday, I remind myself the opportunity to serve the community I love and have lived in all my life is only possible because of my parents.I have never forgotten where I have come from but that does not mean I want to live the difficult life my parents did - far from it.

Just as they wanted me and my siblings to have a better life than they did, my wife, Pina, and I want our children to have a better life than we currently enjoy. A few months ago, a friend asked me why I think I have lasted so long as mayor. To be perfectly honest, it is not something I have given much thought to.It certainly hasn’t been because of the so-called ‘Italian vote’ because the Census data for this Council area doesn’t support that proposition. Instead, I believe it is due in no small measure to my parent’s influence.
Just as it was with my father’s and mother’s journey as migrants, my journey as a leader has been punctuated by setbacks, burdened with sacrifice, tested for resilience, nurtured by growth, underpinned by an unshakable belief I can be better, and motivated by the aspiration to be the best mayor in South Australia. I’m not there yet. But in leadership, just as does in the dictionary, success only after comes after sacrifice and struggle.

At 28 years of age, I was the youngest person on the Council and my youth and inexperience was quickly exposed. I am now 56 years old, but I can now say with confidence my youth and inexperience from almost three decades ago served me well. I have spent half my life on Council, and I have learned a lot; as a person, as a friend, as a work colleague, as a father, as a husband, and of course, as a mayor.

So, in the remaining time left, I want to share some thoughts with you about my leadership style and how my eight-year apprenticeship as Councillor provided me with a foundation to be a successful mayor. Be true to yourself – don’t be afraid to show your vulnerability, acknowledge your imperfections, when you are wrong admit it but always strive to improve and grow and be the best version of yourself every day.

Don’t ‘perform’ - don’t waste time seeking validation from people who will never support you or like you. If you know your worth, then you have nothing to prove.

Work for a cause, not applause - find passion and purpose in what you do to give you satisfaction without waiting for others to congratulate you on the job you are doing. Get it done with any announcements, fanfare or ‘look at moi’ declarations. Trust me, people will notice you.

Understand the power of silence – now this is a hard one, because Italians not only love to talk with their mouths but also with their hands! Know when to say nothing, because
not everything spoken deserves a response. Silence creates mystery and curiosity and provides a valuable lesson in self-mastery.

Stand by your beliefs - if you believe in something, don’t change your mind just to please or impress someone with a different point of view. Rather than respect you, they will resent you for your weakness of character and folding so easily.

Consistency builds credibility – stay focused on you goals and keep persisting. Reputations aren’t bult overnight – they take years - so you have to keep ‘showing up’ and do the hard things, day in, day out, especially when no-one is watching. Overtime, your reputation will build and people will be drawn to you as a steady, safe and reliable pair of hands to get things done.

On 6th December 2021 the Council held its last meeting for that year. I did not attend as I was with two of my brothers, Mario and Frank, as we stayed with our mother in the last moments of her life. She passed away shortly after midnight. As I sat next to her, gently stroking her forehead, my thoughts turned to her solo journey to Australia almost 59 years earlier, then to my childhood and the things I missed out on – my mother’s love was not one of them- and then to my time on Council, particularly my time as mayor. It was a rare moment of clarity when the heavy fog of the past fifty-two years of my life lifted to give way to a beautiful blue sky.

At that moment, perhaps more than any other time in my life, it hit me that everything I have achieved has only been possible because of the courage my mother showed all those years ago. The leadership guru Simon Sinek argues there are many characteristics that make up a leader but the one characteristic all leaders have is courage. I agree with him. Courage is the characteristic I admire most in leaders and every time the going gets tough, I just have to think about what my mother endured and suddenly my problems disappear.
The 19th September 2039 will mark 200 years since Antonio Gannoni arrived in South Australia. It will be a significant day for our state’s Italian community. It will also be a significant for me, as it will be the day before my 70th birthday.

I am sure – and certainly hope – that by then I will be long gone from public office and will have made the peaceful transition from rooster to a feather duster in the public’s memory. But until I go, I will continue to live and lead according to the values I have outlined to you tonight to ensure that Antonio Gannoni’s legacy and the stories of sacrifice and struggle experienced by the more than 30,000 Italian migrants, including my parents, who came to South Australia after him, are never forgotten.

Grazie Mille.

Thank you.