Greece is known around the world for many things, one of which is its society’s devotion to the foundational role of the Greek family. This historic tradition of placing particular importance in one’s family above everything else is not something new for Greece.
From the marble courtyards of ancient oikoi to the bustling modern communities of the popular islands, the Greek family remains the beating heart of Greek society, shaping traditions, values and even political narratives and parties. Imagine a civilization where your last name is a lot more than an identifier. It’s rather a living thing, which could very well define your personal future as well as that of your community. This is the story of how Greece built its societies centuries ago and how it continues to exist as a modern state.
Long before the Acropolis of Athens dominated the Attic skyline, the concept of the oikos (household) defined what it meant to be Greek. The ancient oikos included family members, slaves, land and even livestock, functioning as a self-sustaining micro ecosystem of society.
The oikos was a tiny society in itself, with its own rules and traditions. At its top stood the kyrios—the male head of household—whose authority extended from managing olive harvests to arranging marriages of relatives and children. Yet this wasn’t a tyrannical patriarchy as one might think. It was more of a system of reciprocal duty where the kyrios was responsible for the honor and survival of all under his roof, who, in their turn, had to obey his will.
But let’s not romanticize antiquity. While men debated philosophy in the Agora, women like Penelope were obliged to stay at home and look after children and household alike. Ancient Greek wives couldn’t vote, but somehow it was OK for them to manage slaves, finances and even religious rituals, roles that made them the unsung heroes of their households.
Modern parallels? Picture an Athenian mother today, simultaneously video calling her children, complaining that they forgot her and making spanakopita at the same time—a picture not so alien to many modern Greek families.
Fast-forward to 2025, where approximately one third of Greek adults under 35 still live with their parents—not necessarily due to economic hardship because of the recent financial crisis but by choice. In a country where “oikogeneia” (family) literally means “those born of the same house,” multi-generational living isn’t a crisis but a choice that is seen as something normal by the majority of Greeks. Sunday lunches become the highlight of the week for the Greek family, where arguments about politics and grandparents’ old tales compete with the TikTok notifications of the younger members of the household.
The church remains a familial bond too, with thousands, if not millions of Greeks attending weekly services. Even the Greek diaspora clings to this Greek family tradition: Greek communities across the world recreate village festivals on Saints’ feast days so faithfully, you’d swear you were in Greece.
Then there’s taperakia—Greece’s edible love language. Since plastic containers replaced amphorae, mothers have weaponized spanakopita shipments to sustain distant children. There is no Greek student who lives away who hasn’t had their parents and grandparents sending them taperakia filled with home-made delicacies.
Speaking of food, no discussion of the Greek family is complete without it. The taperakia ritual, where mothers pack homemade meals for grown children, might seem quaint until you realize its roots stretch back to Demeter’s gifts of grain to humanity.
Understandably, globalization tests these familial bonds. Approximately 500,000 young Greeks emigrated post the 2008 crisis, creating a “virtual oikos” via WhatsApp groups, Skype (RIP), FaceTime and Zoom parties, particularly during the pandemic.
As you scroll through this article between family obligations, consider: What makes a Greek family so resilient and do Greeks value it as they used to? Perhaps yes. The question lies with the common understanding that family isn’t a relic, but a verb—an ongoing act of preserving, adapting and feeding bodies and souls—literally and metaphorically.
