Erik Zanon has lived in Madrid for eight years. He left for work, but above all to find a place where he could be himself. Today he shares what it means to observe Italy from afar, exploring emigration, identity, rights, and a sense of belonging. Because, sometimes, it's precisely distance that provides the clearest image of our country.
At a certain point, in the life of those who leave, geography ceases to be a matter of kilometers and becomes a question of perspective. The country you left behind continues to inhabit you, but you begin to view it from a different distance. Not necessarily with nostalgia, but with a clearer gaze, capable of grasping both its extraordinary riches and contradictions.
It is from this idea that Global Italy, the new editorial project of United States of Italy: telling the story of Italy through the eyes of those who live beyond its borders. Not a collection of stories of Italians abroad, but a journey into a country that continues to exist far beyond its geography.
The series continues with Erik Zanon, Venetian, resident in Madrid, A public employee, civil rights activist, and secretary of the Democratic Party of Madrid, her experience tells the story of a generation that leaves not only to pursue a professional opportunity, but also to seek a place where they can live with greater freedom and feel fully recognized.
The conversation, however, goes beyond his personal story. It talks about Italy, what holds it back and what drives people to leave. About how it changes when observed from the outside. And about a question that concerns us all.
Is it possible to leave Italy not to escape, but to finally be yourself?
«When we talk about Italians leaving the country we continue to use an expression that tells only part of the reality: the brain drain. The problem certainly exists. The state invests in the education of young people, but too often fails to capitalize on their skills and talent. Today, however, the phenomenon is much more widespread.
In Spain, I meet architects, doctors, teachers, managers, waiters, electricians, call center operators. People with completely different ages, backgrounds, and professions. Some have even accepted economic conditions no better than those they had in Italy. So the question is inevitable: why leave?
I believe the answer isn't just economic, but cultural. Italy continues to talk about youth, innovation, and merit, failing to translate these principles into a concrete project. We lack a system capable of truly valuing people, their skills, and even their diversity.
This is why I prefer to talk about emigration. Those who leave today, in most cases, aren't fleeing. They're choosing. They're looking for a place where they can build their future with more opportunities and greater balance.
Spain has become one of the main destinations for Italians and, at the same time, one of the countries from which they return the least. This is the clearest sign that, for many, leaving is no longer a mere interlude, but a life choice.»
Madrid has entered your life twice. What did you find there that you felt you couldn't find in Italy?
«It all started with an Erasmus exchange in San Sebastian in 1999. I chose Spain to learn a language and experience a different culture, but deep down I was trying to figure out who I was. I'd long been questioning my sexual orientation and felt the need to give myself some freedom. Even before becoming one of the most advanced European countries in terms of civil rights, Spain represented just that: the place where I could discover myself without fear.»
After that experience, Erik returned to Italy. He graduated, built a career in Milan, and became a manager for an American multinational. Then, in 2018, he decided to leave again.
«After the end of a fifteen-year relationship, I realized it was time to start over. Despite my job and stability in Italy, I still didn't feel truly free to be the person I was.
I remember a phrase I heard during the World Pride in Madrid: “If we don’t fight for our rights first, no one else will.” It still stays with me today. I needed to live in a society where I didn't have to constantly justify who I was, but could simply live. Today I'm no longer a manager. I'm a public employee and I dedicate much of my time to activism, politics, and the defense of civil rights. It's a different path, but it's the one I truly feel is mine.»
Erik during the Pride Madrid demonstration
Your story shows that, for some people, emigrating isn't just about finding a better job, but also a place where they feel fully recognized. How much did this influence your decision to leave Italy?
«"It had a huge impact. My choice wasn't just a professional one. I felt the need to live in a society where I didn't have to constantly explain or justify who I was.
When I arrived in Spain, I found a country that had already firmly embarked on the path of inclusion. I saw same-sex couples living their daily lives with ease, transgender people working in public services, and rainbow flags flying from balconies without much fanfare. It's not a paradise, and discrimination exists here too. The difference, however, lies in society's response, which tends to isolate those who discriminate, not those who are discriminated against.
In Italy, the debate too often continues to focus on the existence of LGBTIQA+ people, as if they were a topic to be discussed rather than citizens with the same rights as everyone else. Meanwhile, society has already changed. New generations experience their identities and orientations much more naturally. Politics should have the courage to listen to this evolution, rather than chasing it. I don't believe rights take anything away from anyone. On the contrary, an inclusive society is a growing society.»
What's your relationship with Italy today? Is there something you miss and something you don't miss?
«The thing I miss most? Italian coffee, without a doubt. We Italians have an almost religious relationship with coffee and every time I order a café solo In Spain I immediately remember why.»
He smiles, then his answer deepens.
«"I've actually never severed my connection with Italy. I return three or four times a year, with my family and friends, and I continue to be involved in the country's political and social life, even while living abroad. I like to think I can still make my contribution."»
Living abroad often means juggling multiple identities. Do you feel more Italian, more European, or do both coexist?
«I definitely feel European. I grew up with the idea of a Europe capable of transcending borders without erasing national identities. For me, being European doesn't mean ceasing to be Italian. I carry with me the culture of my country and also that of Veneto, the region where I grew up.»
«Even before geographical affiliations, however, I identify with the queer community. It's a community that knows no borders and embraces a universal vision of equality and social justice. It's a community built through battles that have restored dignity to millions of people and that continues to defend those who, even today, risk persecution or prison simply for who they are.“
Budapest Pride 2025. Erik Zanon during the demonstration that the Hungarian government had tried to prevent through a law that banned the event and fined participants.
The Italian community in Spain is among the largest in Europe. Who are the Italians choosing Madrid and, more generally, Spain today?
«The Italian community is much more diverse than you might imagine. We're talking about approximately 450,000 people, plus many Italian-descendants, especially from Argentina and Venezuela. There are families, professionals, researchers, students, entrepreneurs, retirees, and people who chose Spain because they found a better quality of life or a more inclusive environment here. One fact strikes me deeply: many Italian-descendants hold an Italian passport, but when they decide to move to Europe, they choose Spain and not Italy.
It means that the call of one's origins alone isn't enough to make our country a place where one can build one's future. Italy remains a country of vacations, of tourism based on roots, of family memories. Much less, unfortunately, a country where one chooses to live. The Italians I meet here are, in general, more relaxed, more serene, more cheerful. They've found a different balance. And almost all of them tell me the same thing: they don't plan on returning.»
Italy is often described as a welcoming country. Seen from Madrid, is it really that welcoming for everyone?
«Italy's image is still that of an open, generous, and hospitable people, and I believe this reputation is largely deserved. At the same time, however, I have the feeling that in recent years our country has stopped questioning the deeper meaning of hospitality. In Spain, respect for others has become, despite all the limitations that still exist, a shared value.
This applies to migrants, the LGBTQ+ community, and, more generally, anyone perceived as different from the majority. In Italy, however, I have the impression that these differences too often continue to occupy the center of public debate, almost as if they were a problem rather than an asset. Perhaps we should ask ourselves whether we are truly a welcoming country to everyone, or only to those who most resemble us.»
As secretary of the Democratic Party in Madrid, you meet Italians who have chosen to live abroad every day. Do they still feel represented by Italian politics?
«Those arriving in Spain rarely immediately seek out a political party or association. Initially, a certain disillusionment prevails, the same disillusionment that often contributed to their decision to leave. Over time, however, many rediscover the desire to participate and continue to contribute to the country's life.
Living abroad also changes the way you look at politics. In Spain, I perceive greater clarity in the parties' positions and a more direct relationship between citizens and institutions. Despite all its difficulties, it's a type of politics that still manages to inspire passion. And this leads many Italians to look at what's happening in our country with different eyes, in the hope that what works elsewhere might one day find its way into Italy.»
Zanon at the April 25th Day celebrations in Madrid
Emigration inevitably changes your perspective on your own country. What's the most important lesson Madrid taught you about Italy?
«Madrid taught me to live with greater lightness. Not the lightness of superficiality, but that of a society that seems to have understood that not everything has to be perfect. Here, people worry less about formalities and much more about relationships. We meet after work without constantly checking our watches, we address each other informally, we experience public spaces as something to be shared. It's a different way of being together, more spontaneous and, perhaps, even more human.
I've learned that you can be serious without being rigid, professional without hiding behind formalities. It's a culture that puts the common good and quality of life at the center, aspects that we Italians sometimes risk sacrificing by chasing rules, appearances, and conventions.
But living in Spain also taught me to look at Italy with different eyes. From there, I discovered how much our country is loved. The Spanish look at Italy with genuine admiration: for its cuisine, fashion, design, art, and its ability to transform creativity and ingenuity into excellence. We Italians are often the first to forget this.
Italy remains an extraordinary country. We have talent, culture, a beautiful language, and a style recognized worldwide. But these qualities alone are not enough. If they aren't accompanied by the ability to innovate, include, and create opportunities, they risk becoming merely a splendid showcase. Being a major industrial powerhouse or a G7 member matters little if, every year, hundreds of thousands of people choose to build their futures elsewhere.
The most important lesson, however, is another. Living abroad taught me that you can deeply love another culture without losing your own identity. You don't have to choose between what you were and what you become. The two can coexist. And it is precisely this awareness that has made me rediscover, even more, the value of being Italian.»
Erik Zanon in Morocco
As I leave Erik, I continue to think back to a sentence that, perhaps more than any other, encapsulates the meaning of this conversation.: "You don't always leave to escape. Sometimes you leave to finally be yourself."«
This is the most important lesson Italians around the world teach us. For too long, we've portrayed emigration as a loss. An escape. A number. A statistic. But behind every departure, there are people, choices, identities that transform, families that start over elsewhere, and a bond with Italy that, often, isn't broken: it changes shape.
With Global Italy We want to tell exactly this story. Not just about those who left, but about what those who observe Italy from afar see. Because distance, sometimes, it doesn't push away: it focuses.
But this is the most beautiful paradox. There are Italians who have chosen to live elsewhere, yet continue to love their country enough to never stop imagining it could be better.
