Young Miss Tink’s Break with the Church of Rome

After I graduated I was so lucky to win a scholarship for Dublin University. I say lucky, as I don’t actually know how my name happened to be among the 10 Italians who won that year. My dissertation wasn’t even about an Irish author, but I won. Apart from flight, tuition fees, the accommodation by an Irish family was included. I have to say from the very first impact, that the Irish appeared to be a particularly welcoming, kind, sort of people and the family I was assigned to even kinder, if possible. Another thing I noticed when I entered that house was that religion mattered, and a lot.  In fact, while the landlady was showing  me around,  the great deal of sacred images hanging here and there couldn’t but come to my attention; even in the bathroom, I swear. It seemed we were never alone, HE was following us wherever we went.

I also sensed that I was taken into particular consideration compared to the other two girls that were hosted along with me: another Italian and a Dutch. At meal time I enjoyed bigger portions, if I had a wish it was always fulfilled, I was given the best of the best,  but why ? It couldn’t be my being Italian, as there was the Italian girl from Bologna too. One day, from something our mistress had hinted, I suddenly understood : I came from Rome, that was my wild card ! The lovely lady had somewhat associated my birthplace and myself to the Vatican and the Head of the Catholic Church. In a way, I was the closest person to the Pope she had ever met. My being Roman and living in Rome made me …”special”. She couldn’t know to what a snake she had given her warm undeserved attentions, but she was to discover soon. At the end of the first week, in fact, when she asked me if I wanted to join her for Sunday mass, I said with a faint and slightly guilty voice: ” I…..I’m sorry, but I do not profess ….. I am agnostic “. She paused and looked at me in a way as if she had seen me for the first time. Then, she put on her hat, smiled gently and popped out. She kept being nice, for sure, but something had broken between us. 

The point is that my relationship with religion has always been troublesome since…. ever. All the catholic architecture has never had a hold on me and my being inquisitive has always found religious dogmatism unsupportable. I still remember my dear aunt Mimma, one day, after one of those sermons of mine, which wilfully aimed at mining her certainties of good catholic woman, had eventually enough of  my profane words and went like:

Auntie😵 : ” If there is a hell, you’ll go straight down there, when your time comes!”😤

Little MissTink : ” You see? You said “if”! IF !!!There is doubt in you”!!😈

Auntie: 😭

There were two days of the week I particularly loathed when I was a girl: Friday and Sunday. On Fridays good catholic families were not used to eating  meat, but fish. So, every Friday my mother’s menu consisted in either boiled cod or (even worse)  brain.  I guess the reason why my mother kept stuck to this rule was not religious orthodoxy but rather she thought it was the kind of food that could have made me become smarter, so, two birds with one stone. No need to say that I found both boiled cod and brain repulsive. I actually believed that there was a reason why Saturday was placed between Friday and Sunday : first of all to make me recover from the disgust of Friday’s diet and then to find the strength to face what was for me Sunday’s punishment: Sunday mass. I had done whatever was in the powers of  a child to skip that weekly appointment for years : faking  sickness, crying, threatening and more, but eventually the squabble always came to an end  with me reluctantly pulled by an arm in tears and taken to church. This every Sunday.

My mother and I came to a truce on the occasion of my Holy Communion. I had become milder about church-going and I even attended months and months of catechism classes for one major reason which had nothing to do with religion: the dress. I was attracted to the idea of wearing that white dress and that made me more yielding, but after my Holy Communion reception, as there was no other reason to go to church wearing that virginal dress, the fights started over again.

I was eleven when a memorable event happened . My mother and I were at church and I remember the mass being more boring than usual. Insupportably boring. That priest had been talking and talking what was nonsense to me, for …how long? It seemed hours. I felt I had reached the limit of my forbearance and finding myself unable to restrain my intolerance, I exploded saying something that wanted to be heard and unheard at the same time, as what remained of my sanity made me fully aware that consequences to my words would have been inevitable:

Young Miss Tink: “Che palle!” (That sucks!) 😤😤😤😨

She had heard⚡ ⚡⚡. My mother looked at me and said nothing. She looked at me and I am sure I saw the green of her eyes turn black. What could I do? I prayed! I prayed like an angel for rest of the mass. I prayed like I had never done before, always checking with the corner of my eyes if that was enough to see that green again in her eyes. No way. I was doomed. As soon as we left church, out of the blue, she slapped me in my face, which made my lip bleed as she was wearing a big ring.

I didn’t cry and she didn’t say a word; but that event put an end to my church-going, or better, to our church-going, because this story took the most unexpected turn. 

As we didn’t go to church any longer, we had the Sundays free, so, well, I don’t know how, but it was decided to embrace another faith, my father’s faith, that is: football. We became devoted to S.S. Lazio, after all the pattern is the same : choirs, anthems, sanctification of the players, people gathering etc. .The stadium had become our new church and every Sunday we followed the team wherever they played, whether it was Rome or other places in central Italy – the team at the time wasn’t very good as they stalled in second division . We also made new proselytes among our relatives living in Rome and in the other regions nearby. They didn’t care much about S.S. Lazio, actually, but the Sunday match had become the occasion for us to meet and visit beautiful towns all together.  I have splendid memories of that time. 

Growing for me has been nothing but losing “faiths”, I have to say, but still there is one that survives, very childish indeed, I know : my team and I am confident it will stay with me forever. I have no doubts about it.

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The Realm of Women

The world used to be simpler once. It is a matter of fact that as you grow older your certainties gradually need an upgrade if you want to keep up with times. Let’s talk about genders, for example. For a long time of my life I was convinced that there were just two: male and female. I was wrong. It is incorrect.  In fact, I have learnt advancing in years that there are more: transgender, gender-fluid, non-binary and I am afraid I am missing many others. Nonetheless, despite this colourful world out there, there is one place, which remains  grey.  A place where even the old tedious male/female dualism struggles to survive and I am talking about – guess what? – school. Women are on average  the 80-85% of the teaching force in Italy, hence, school has become de facto the realm of women. But, is this constant feminization of school a good thing? As, of course, the female gender distinctive traits cannot but characterize the work environment eventually, but, who is going to balance them?

One of the female  features which has been clearly affecting school in recent years is the so called “maternage” attitude, which tends to enhance the idea that teaching consists mostly in protecting, justifying and understanding. This is what mothers do. More than once I have found myself being  told by  colleagues, that as I have no children, I might be unable to understand a particular psychological condition that a student may suffer. What ticks me off is not only the lack of delicacy, as they cannot know the reason why I didn’t have children – I didn’t want them, for the record – but the assumption that to do this job well, you have to be a mother. Well, I firmly believe that it is exactly the other way round, as mothering is not part of this job. Teaching is a completely different kind of occupation. The custom of associating mothering to teaching  generates only chaos,  as the boundaries of teachers’ and parents’ duties are too often blurred in this way.

Think it well, for teachers  being maternal is much simpler, as giving rules and have them followed, educating, testing, grading  and such, is what makes us all enter into fighting mode against  parents, admin and students in this precise order and it may be the cause of lots of troubles. Mothers/teachers’ approach is warmer and apparently smooth. So, if Paolino often misses classes, mothers/teachers become his shadow and inform the family about it (despite the glorious invention of the electronic register);  if Paolino does not come to take the test, they check if on those days there were maybe too many tests, and make sure he will come next time,  usually promising a less demanding scenario;  if Paolino while smoking in the toilet sets the school on fire, they try to understand what brought Paolino to act like this (and they’d better find something solid, as someone let him go in there and it usually ends up being teachers’ fault too). Eventually, because of this mothering attitude students are never to be blamed, (real) parents are never responsible and teachers…..keep complaining, but who is the cause of all this mess?

It is a truth universally acknowledged that women are not good at teaming, and school is the sheer demonstration of this statement. I know, it is such a clichés, and I am sure there are excellent exceptions somewhere, and I have even met some, but, this is just a general rule which derives from experience and observation. The fact that women are not good at team working has been explained anthropologically, pointing out that teaming is in men’s DNA since the beginning of times. Men were in charge of the sustainment of the tribe and went all together on hunting trips or to make war. Playing  team games is something you have learnt since boyhood, while for girls things have always been a bit different. I need a metaphor, girls have always developed a sort of…..  “etoile” attitude.  

In short, while it is natural for the group of males  to develop a strategy together in order to provide food/victory, because they’ve learnt to understand the advantages of being part of a group in order to survive, women, having been raised as etoiles, enjoy dancing solos, that is,  they aim at being admired for their qualities or skills. They want to be protagonists, but what happens when a group of etoiles is in charge of planning a common development strategy? I leave that to your imagination. Who is used to working/playing in a team knows that success lies in  confiding in the most valiant actors and in the leader, and here is another distinctive female trait :  women struggle in recognizing the leadership of another woman.  The little etoile inside us means to be the star of the show and wants to lead the dance. Get in her way and she’ll trip you. This is how school dynamics work. Lots of solos, even good ones, but when the exhibition ends, nothing more remains. The residual 15% of men in the teaching force does not even try – remember, as a general rule – to change this trend. They mostly choose the convenient role of spectators or, much worse, start to learn ballerinas’ steps.

At this point a good question would be: what prevents men from choosing the teaching career ? Well, it obvious, the salary is not attractive, that is all. While on the other side, women find the working hours attractive, which allow them to perform the duties and responsibilities of being a daughter, a mother or a grandmother. This means that many of us have chosen to be teachers to have more time to do…… something else. If it is so, couldn’t that be reason why the salary is so low?  Don’t you suspect that men’s underrepresentation in the profession is one of the reasons why a teacher salary can be kept so low?  We need more men. It is time to admit it and  only a pay bump could spur a virtuous cycle, thus drawing a greater representation of men in the profession. School cannot be the realm of women forever, it doesn’t work and we all know it well.  

On WhatsApp and …Wisdom

The fact that I wrote about a brand new class only after a couple of months of their acquaintance and nothing about the other one of the same age – another group of people of a peculiar kind I have been with for 5 long years that we’ll identify as 5Afb –  has aroused some sort of stupor among them; I guess because they found themselves unexpectedly stripped of the coveted title of “weirdos” mostly. Actually, it seemed pretty incredible that this event could ever happen, but it did. So, having the 5Afb been definitely surpassed by 5(I)D on matter of weirdness and desiring to make things even writing something worthy of 5Afb, I found myself running short of ideas. After all, you cannot write on command. But, one day, something epiphanic came in help.

The occasion was an unmissable training course given by the formidable Mr Cross, a former magistrate, deputed to updating  school staff  on the matter of norms, about the dangers of the usage of WhatsApp in class and in particular as means of communication with students. After more than an hour of endless boredom 🥱 Mr Cross came up with an incredible story which he thought to be pretty convincing:

Mr Cross:  ” It is absolutely not recommended the usage of WhatsApp  with students, hence, I wish to tell this story to dissuade you once and for all from using it for any school activity. So, listen carefully. I have been told that a student texted his teacher demanding if he could skip the test the following day and she replied he could not. The following day, as he was unprepared, he was given a bad mark. His parents read that conversation and sued the teacher for sexual harassment”.

Teachers : 😮😮😮😮😮

Mrs Tink ( texting a colleague) “If this is a real story, I guess there must be some parts missing!! How did we go from test to sex I can’t make it out”.😕

Nonetheless, despite the anecdote was absurd, it stirred something in my conscience and I found myself wondering  about the massive usage of WhatsApp I usually have with my students, which, in a word, I could actually define ….over-the-top. I know, it was only five years ago when I pontificated urbi et orbi about the joys of disconnection, but in five years a lot has changed, there has been a pandemic and communication via WhatsApp has become vital…..and fun. It was exactly during this thorough examination that some episodes about the 5Afb in question came up to my mind.

But first of all I have to spend a few  words on the general demeanour of this class. Their weirdness has always consisted in the fact that since early days almost all of them seemed to have joined the school by a twist of fate. To be more specific, their attitude has been for long that of a bunch of youngsters who are at a football stadium and the very moment their favourite player is about to kick an important penalty, for some sort of magic, they find themselves in a class while Mrs Tink is explaining the wonders of the Present Continuous tense. I still have this impression from time to time when I look them in the eyes. They are addicted to football and this is truth we have to deal with every day.

During the pandemic I even found myself in charge of the coordination of all the activities of the 5Afb, bureaucratic stuff  in particular, and on that occasion it was clear to me they all had trouble in responding effectively to the word “deadline”. Every time I needed some papers and I set a specific deadline, if  it was a good day, I had 2 in 22.  Words were totally useless, hence, I thought about using the figurative, primitive but impactful way of communication that WhatsApp  emoticons can offer. I actually used three of them  in particular, according to my level of anger and  consequent danger for them:

☠️:  You did something wrong! Watch out! I am ticked off! There will be consequences (but in a way you still have a chance of redemption).

⚰️: Your time for redemption is running short, in fact, I am just about to seal the lids of your coffins ( I usually texted a sequence of coffins according to the number of those who had not accomplished their tasks)

🪦: Non matter what you mean to do. It’s over. Fertig. Fini. Finito. Tomorrow we will settle up (sequence of gravestones followed).

Well, it worked and it was fun. They have become soldiers in matter of deadlines, I have to say.  I still every now and then text a skull, just to see how and whether they react, and they do (very childish of me, I know).

Mts Tink :☠️

5Afb : “What have we done, now?”🥶🥶🥶

But, I couldn’t help but wonder during that training course, what if one parent had stumbled across that group chat? The kind of parent Mr Cross’s story was about? I would have offered my head on a silver platter, especially if one wanted wilfully to misunderstand tones and intentions. So, I resolved upon being definitely more careful in the future. Hence, still full of concerns, I decided to test the waters telling the class Dr Cross’s tale and comparing it to our skull/coffin/gravestone episodes (and more🤦) to have a good laugh and check their reaction at the same time. While they were listening to this crazy story, I could see their faces enlighten and their smiles take the form of a smirk. Then, after a while, one of those “impostors”, a bold one, took the floor hinting darkly that in due time I might as well get a skull one day in remembrance of those “good” old times.

5Afb : ” Before the exams in June it would be a good timing, wouldn’t  it?😇😇😇

Mrs Tink: 😈“ You won’t live that long”.🪦🪦🪦🪦🪦🪦🪦🪦🪦🪦🪦🪦🪦🪦🪦🪦🪦🪦🪦

“The Best of Our Breed”

This year I have a brand  new class, let’s call it….5(I)D. It is the conclusive year, so when you take a class at this stage, it is like adopting a full grown up child: the room for action is quite thin. Nonetheless, I could not resist the allure of 5(I)D as soon as I learnt about its existence. Why? Well, because it is a small group, very small, a selected one, apparently. Hence, I did whatever it was in my power to come into possession of this rare gem. The reviews about the 5(I)D were not that inviting, actually, but rather ” bizarre” I would say, and, strange indeed, there was not a single voice to controvert them. Yet, I was not in the least intimidated, after all, for someone like myself who has had the fortune of working in both the best and the worst school in Rome and nearby, how could these young scoundrels be of any problem? So, even when fate seemed to have taken a different turn, as I was informed that the principal had planned to direct me to another class, I headed straight to her office and said decidedly : I WANT THE 5(I)D. And so, I had it. 

Well, I couldn’t believe my eyes, when I first saw them – we are talking about adolescents of 18/19 years old – as before me there was displayed the most incredible bunch of weirdos grouped all together as I had never seen before. Apparently,  they didn’t – and don’t – seem to respond to the norms of proper behaviour to be followed in class, or better, they do respond, till their basic needs come pressing such as: watching or even answering the cell phone ( “May I? You know, it’s really important”), eating ( “God, I was starving”), talking  loud ( “But , we were just discussing about what you’ve just said) , sleeping ( at least they are silent) , fixing makeup and…. having breakfast .

This is a typical scene at around 8:20 a.m.:

Curly boy : “Excuse me, Mrs Tink!”

Mrs Tink : ( while explaining and deluding herself into having caught his attention), “Do you have a question?”

Curly boy: “Yes, may I go to the bar? I haven’t had my breakfast yet and I’ m not feeling that well”.

Mrs Tink : “Of course”.

Yes, I say ” of course ” , which is of a caustic, sarcastic sort ( in the hope they will understand one day), of course you can go and have breakfast, of course you can a bite to your sandwich or fix your makeup along many other things while I am teaching a class. Of course. After all, do you think I should still explain what is right and what is wrong at their age, or sanction them? No way. All things considered, I never sense their way of behaving as a form of opposition, this is just what they are. If I may say so, this is a class where the “EGO” fails in balancing the urges of the “ID ”  and  the impositions of the ” SUPEREGO”.

So, when it was time to introduce  them to Freud’s tripartite theory of mind and apply it to the characters of Wuthering Heights, I decided to go just a little out of the box to catch their attention, thus using one of my tricks. 

On that occasion , I theatrically took my wallet out my bag and picked  a 50 euro note. I placed the note on the desk and I addressed them with the following words:

Mrs Tink:”Let’s figure that this note has slipped out of my bag. You know it is mine. You are alone; nobody can see you; I could never spot  you.  No cameras, no witnesses. Well, would you keep that note or would you return it to me?”

Curly boy : ( with no hesitation) “I would keep it! No doubt.“

Ginger girl: “Well, it depends!”

Mrs Tink: “On what?”

Ginger girl:  “Well, it depends on whether I like you or not!”

Mrs Tink: “And…. do I meet you approval? “

Ginger girl (blushes, mutters something indistinguishable I can’t understand, but I feel I’d better not investigate further).

Curly boy: (while trying to convince the others) “I would keep it, if she can’t spot me, I would keep it.”

Mrs Tink: “All right, let’s say, and I want to include myself in this, that we all would share the instinct of keeping that note for ourselves, so, what would prevent us from doing it? As I am truly confident that eventually you would hand it back to me.”

Curly boy: ” I would not!”

Hooded boy: ( reawakening from his torpor) “C’mon! If you knew to whom it belongs, you’d hand it back!

Mrs Tink: “So let’s say that either a moral imperative, Kant’ s moral law, might press you to give me back my note, or simply fear, the fear of being caught, as somebody might have seen you and report it to me. This would not be a crime, to be sure, but if I knew it, I would eventually  see the “culprit” with different eyes, wouldn’t I? So, this is how the superego works.”

Curly boy ( decidedly): “I would keep it, no way!”

Well, at least I had gained their attention. Eventually the bell rang, I put my 50 euros note back in my wallet and while I was heading to another class, I realized that I had left on the desk something more precious than money, that is, my packet of paprika flavoured crisps. I turned back, but I saw one guy running towards me holding my packet. He handed it to me smiling: ” You see? The superego is at work!!!” 

P.S. When I said I would have produced an article about them, they seemed to be very pleased about it and one went: ” I am surprised, it took you so long to write something about us” . I guess I’ll have material enough this year to develop a series.

The Ministry of Merit

It’s been quite a while since I published my last post and it seems that a lot has changed. Most important of all, Mr Run is back to competition and to victory too; another school year has started and we may say that on-line learning is definitely dead; it has been a never ending summer here, no sign of Autumn yet, and  let me think, what else, oh yes, Giorgia Meloni is the new Italian Prime Minister, a woman, would you believe it?  This predictable outcome has been a terrible blow, a shock, for both Italian and foreign press. Since election day, the ghost of fascism has been evoked on papers constantly and the constitution of a new authoritarian regime with it. Well, I would like to tranquilize my readers that there is no such thing, or at least, nothing I am aware of at the moment. You should remember that this is the country of “The Leopard”, hence, everything seems change so that nothing actually changes, and, mark my words, this is one of those cases.

The fact that the press keep reminding us, with ominous tones, that Giorgia Meloni’s election happened  exactly 100 years  after Mussolini’s “ March on Rome”  has had only one consequence so far, that is, making everybody remember an event  nobody cares about at all or it was almost forgotten.  Now, thanks to this continuous bombing, we are able to promptly answer that the above mentioned event happened on October 28th, 1922, displaying the same degree of certainty and precision we may have when we are asked about our birthday.

I have to say that in these first days the new government seems to have been very much more occupied on rephrasing the name of Ministries, rather than organizing black shirt troops waving truncheons or exhuming the old racial laws, if these are the fears. Words are important to define politics, hence, the Ministry of Agriculture has become Ministry of Agriculture and Food Sovereignty, the Ministry of Economic Development is the Ministry of  “Made in Italy ” too and last but not least the Ministry of Education has become the Ministry of Education and Merit. ” Yes, Merit, here is the rub.

This latter has become the object of a harsh debate as you have to understand that “merit” has been for long, a word just whispered along school alleys and with trusted colleagues only, as “inclusion” has been the only religion to be practiced these years. In this inclusive school, teachers, endowed with super powers, employ any possible strategy so that learning goals can be achieved by EVERYBODY and  NOBODY is left behind. NO ONE is supposed to leave the school system without the necessary skills, thus  making sure that  the  school does not contribute to increase the differences in the perspective of success among individuals.  Of course, all this should be done demanding students the minimum effort at home and in class, without forgetting to be entertaining. Well, all this educational conduct has had a cost, as, to include EVERYBODY, there is only one recipe : lowering learning standards and objectives. There is no other way. There is no magic; and in so doing, we will deliberately exclude those who can aspire to a more solid education and in particular those who belong to the lower classes. 

It is hard to believe that in our competitive society, the importance of promoting merit is denied right in the place deputed to prepare the new generation to the upcoming challenges. Merit has become synonym of unfairness. Hence, the school is just a huge pool where everybody is expected to jump in, but there are no lanes, no rules, no training or coaches only some lifeguards. Just stay in, then, when it’s time to jump out, we will see.

I chose the metaphor of a swimming-pool on purpose, as I used to be a swimmer, and a good one too; but I was not that good at all styles. It was the task of my coach, through the right amount of work, to understand where I was more competitive, where I could have my chances of success and, eventually, after years of hard training it was clear that backstroke would be the answer, actually, I was better at swimming 200 mt  backstroke than 100 mt . That was my natural talent and there I could have found my reward, hence, I had to accept that in all the other styles I was just ok and nothing more. In that pool the lanes were divided according to merit and everybody worked hard in the hope to succeed in being  included in that one with the best swimmers one day. Nobody ever thought that the best ones should have swum a little slower so that anybody could join in, thus avoiding the risk of undermining their self-esteem.

That is why I applaud the choice of word, but this was the easy part. To give consequence to what promised, thus succeeding in reforming an obsolete and gangrenous system would be such an incredible achievement that could make me even vote Giorgia Meloni one day. After all, if she deverves it, why shouldn’t I do it?

The Dark Side of Talent

There is one infallible and quick way to determine the language level of  non-native speakers, that is, detecting the way they more or less nonchalantly use bad words, but also their reaction when they become the object of that language too. Hence, when the most common Italian  swearword, for example, the one which begins with a “V…”  , to be clear, is translated into the equivalent in English which  begins with an “F…”,  well,“ its native hue of resolution is sickled o’er the pale cast of translation and loses the name of swearword” for an Italian. Of course, one understands the meaning, but somehow it is as if it were blunted in its effect.

So, when I accidentally came across an Instagram page with the name of my school preceded by that word which begins with the “F”, the options were just two: either the owner of the page wanted to soften the effect of the word, fearing the impact of the one with the “V” – and that would make this person an excellent English speaker – or simply, and more likely, only the poor knowledge of the language was the reason of  that choice, thus underestimating the inevitable consequences.

On that page there was also a sort of manifesto where the owner blabbed about the absolute necessity of changing the school system introducing new subjects  – those you don’t have to study, of course –  to replace the old ones, pleading also that this revolution should have been made with the teachers. One thing in particular really struck me: the core of those words was the necessity to speak and to be heard by adults, which could be a good thing but for the fact that the name of the page began with the word which begins with the “F” and the few pictures that had been posted represented all threatening people holding a gun.

Something had to be done. It was decided to give CSI Casalpalocco/Roma the charge of the investigation in order to quickly spot the rebel out of 1.300 students. Despite all the efforts, after weeks of inquests the crime division came up with nothing – actually, I have to say I was quite disappointed, as this Italian unit seemed to be much below the standards of the American ones. However, there is one thing I have learnt watching series, namely,  these kind of minds enjoy being tracked down just to demonstrate how smart they are in eluding any attempt to spot them , but in so doing they often make a mistake and this is what happened. Our rebel, in fact, yielded the temptation of sharing the shot of a note from the electronic register. Even if names were deleted, it was easy to identify the class, so, after some cross interrogations and a few threats we found our culprit.

Yet, I am sure that had the name of the page started with the “V” rather than with the “F” the fate of our “hero” would have been a tad more trying, as, after all, everything ended with no much fuss: the page was deleted, one day suspension and not much more than that, as far as I can remember. This was four months ago.

After a few  weeks, while I was examining some videos, 253 actually, of the students who were taking part in a challenge I had organized ( https://makeiteasychallenge.it/) which aimed at selecting the best candidates for the Breakthrough Junior Challenge, my attention was particularly drawn by one of them. The subject was not that challenging but that guy definitely knew how to nail the attention: he looked straight into the camera, relaxed, with a confident smirk, he definitely enjoyed what he was doing.

The video was extremely accurate, he had even subtitled it and that meant he had clearly in mind the effect images and words had to have on the viewers. He wanted to be heard and understood.  I had never seen him before, so I checked his name as it sounded, somehow, strangely familiar. I am sure you have clearly understood that it was our guy we are talking about. It could not be otherwise, in fact , I had not  noticed before, but even in that video there was the stamp of his rebellious nature, that sordid pleasure one must feel in daring break the rules, even for one second.

The second I am talking about is the one I resolved about censoring, as while talking about Dopamine effects, he had  thought necessary to mention and show  the name of a porn site. I  had not said anything to him, after all, it was just a second. “He’ll never notice it”, I was sure. Well, he did notice it. One day, in fact, he came to visit me, claiming his second back.  He did his best to explain his reasons. Apparently, without that precious second the balance of his work so meticulously achieved was lost forever. He was absolutely determined, and as he didn’t mean to listen to my reasons, so, I had to tell him that the price for having that second back was being out of the competition.

It was an effective argument, and you know why? Because he cared about it and a lot. He cared, and when he learned he was among the 25 finalists in the school, he soon shot the most amazing video demanding the vote of his mates, friends and relatives for the following step of the competition, showing a great deal of pride for his achievement. He cared, as when we eventually were in more friendly terms he helped me promote the final award ceremony. He cared, as in that ceremony I noticed he was definitely the most elegant among the finalists and eventually, no need to say, he won.

Few days after his victory in a video on TikTok he had made for other exciting plans he was pursuing, he mentioned these four crazy months of his young life . “We decide what we want to be” was the moral he had learned from this adventure and now he had decided that it was much more rewarding being constructive than destructive, that he could also be, nay, he was an “excellence” of this school and even more. Way to go, Gabriele!

A Glimpse of Truth

Back to school after Christmas break: new rules, old madness. Post-Christmas  on-line staff meetings  have reached unbelievable levels of senselessness this year. Here is a sheer example.

Principal (smiling): Welcome back to school. Can you hear me? Yes? Good. I have had some problems with my connection this morning……So, we are gathered here today to implement the new dispositions from the Ministry of Education which have just been dispatched……

Teacher WhatsApp chat:

(Maria) : Here is yet another scam! To be sure. Ready?😤

 ( Mick) : You bet!😤

Principal:  (keeps talking)….. the teaching activity will continue in presence, with the obligation to wear FFP2 type masks….

Teacher WhatsApp chat:

( Mick) : With 220.000 cases per day, in presence!!!😤

 (Susan) : They want us dead!😲

 (Maria) : Wear the mask and go to war, well, I mean, to work! 😆

Principal: (keeps talking ) …….yet, I am afraid  we have no such masks at the moment. We have piles of boxes full of chirurgical masks, actually, nobody wants to wear, but I am confident  FFp2 masks will be sent soon.

Mick: Soon, when?🤔

Principal ( a bit annoyed): I don’t know. Soon!

Mick : That means never.😤

Teacher WhatsApp chat:

(Marco): Good point, Mick!👏

 (Susan): So it is mandatory to wear masks we are not provided with!

 (Maria) : What did I tell you?

(Lory) : I have been wearing FFp2 masks since… ever, so  far nothing new .

(Marco) : If it is mandatory at work, I expect  my employer  to  provide for them.🤨

Pricipal: (still talking)“that is all………..Do you have any comment?”

Teachers (at unison) : Nope.😑

Principal: (hesitating) And…….there is the question  of  the recess. Starting from tomorrow students will be allowed to consume their  meals only  outside school. As a distance of at least two meters is to be  guaranteed……

Teacher WhatsApp chat:

(Maria) : Two meters?🙄

(Lory) : Can you figure the scene?

(Marco) : It may work only if we were provided with a whip too!!

(Mrs Tink) : We could make marks on the ground!

(Susan) : We could even play green light/red light like in Squid Game!🤪

(Mrs Tink ): I would like to be that doll! 🤣

(Mick) : A class a  thirty should require 150 square meters to keep such distance, multiplied by 26 makes……………3.900 square meters!😧

Principal (keeps talking): ………. the mask outdoors can  be  lowered only for the time strictly necessary to eat meals….

Mrs Tink: What if it rains?😒

Principal: In case of rain, students  will remain inside the school premises.  Of course, they won’t be allowed to have their meals, unless  the two meter  distance is  kept.

Teacher WhatsApp chat:

(Susan) : So now you need two meter distance to eat, after having  abolished school distancing. This is madness.

(Mick) : I will never be in class while they eat, for sure.

(Marco) : This is just ridiculous!😤

Principal (scanning the screen) Any questions?

Teachers ( at unison) Nope.😑

Principal: Yet.…we have studied  a way to save  recess………….😏

Teacher WhatsApp chat:

( Mick) : Have they? I can’t way a second more!🤨

 (Maria) : Are you ready for another chaotic procedure?

Principal: First of all, the rooms occupied by the students are to be carefully ventilated….

Teacher WhatsApp chat:

(Marco): nothing new, what have we been doing so far?

(Susan): there is more, for sure.

Principal (keeps talking) : ……………. student could  have  their  snacks  in turn….. in alternate rows,  and …. in each row………..every two desks . Of course, they will never  have to move from  the assigned station and they will be allowed to lower their masks  only for the time necessary to eat.

Mrs Tink: but as we have only 20 minute recess,15, actually, or less if you consider the time we need to have the rooms ventilated, they would have only 3 minutes to eat, more or less.😮

Principal: More, Mrs Tink,  as there are many of them quarantined  and follow classes from remote.

Mary: But they will come back from their quarantines sooner or later!

Teacher WhatsApp chat:

(Mrs Tink) : I don’t give a damn, I will let them starve .😈

(Susan)     : So will I. What have we become? Guardians? Cops? Janitors?

Principal (cutting short): ……talking about quarantines, I want to remind you that with two Covid cases in the same class, on-line teaching must be provided for those who have not had their booster dose yet . In  case more than  120 days have passed  since the vaccination cycle has been completed or virus recovery, the quarantine will last 10 days and it will be possible to come back to school only after being tested negative.

Mick: And what about the others?

Principal :  All the others will continue the  activities in presence wearing  FFp2 masks for 10 days . If the cases in the same class are three, on-line learning will be provided for ten days for the entire class.

Teacher WhatsApp chat:

(Mrs Tink) :More than 120, less than 120….I am lost!😵

 (Susan) : My head spins.😵‍💫

Mick: But what about the matter of privacy? We had been clearly told at the very beginning  of the school year that we were ABSOLUTELY forbidden to make enquires  in matter of vaccines, and now I am entitled to pry even  into the timing of their choices!😠

Principal: Things change!

Teacher WhatsApp chat (Mick): For worse!😠

Principal: One thing more….😇

Teacher WhatsApp chat:

(Susan): it’s not over yet!

(Maria): this is a nightmare!😲

Principal: Well, in case, you, dear teachers,  haven’t  had  your booster dose yet  and more than 5 months have passed since your last jab, if  you are quarantined (hesitates) …ehm… you  won’t be paid……ehm…. for the time you have to stay at home (coughs).

Mrs Tink: What?🤬 You mean that if a couple of these brats from one of my classes are infected, I  may end up quarantined  and unpaid, despite my booster dose has been scheduled for the end of the month,  because more than 5 months have passed?

Principal: It is the law.😑

Mrs Tink: it is the law of two days ago, nonetheless,  my Green Pass won’t expire before February.😠

Principal (smiling): Sorry I can’t hear you. There must be some problems with the line again. I see you want ask que…..que……..stions, but , really………. I can’t hear……………. you. (The image freezes. The principal vanishes).

Teacher WhatsApp chat:

(Susan) :This is outrageous!😤

  (Mick ) :This cannot be endured!😤

  (Maria) : This cannot be borne!😡

 (Mrs Tink )  : This …….ahhh…I see  there is a chance I might anticipate my jab on January 20^th   6:15 p.m.!

  (Susan) : It’s today!

 (Mrs Tink) : So, I have only 20 minutes…. Byeee!!!🥺🙋‍♀️

 After all the show……oopss…… school must go on.

Malaussène Scheme

Haven’t you ever wished to have a Benjamin Malaussène in your family or circle of friends? That is, somebody always willing to take all the blame, even if it is you who has been caught with your hands in the cookie jar? Well, in case you have never heard about him, Benjamin Malaussène, is the protagonist of Daniel Pennac’s  popular saga of crime thrillers, and he works as ……scapegoat. Actually, he is in Quality Control of  “the Store”, but de facto he is the person called upon to take the rap when customers come in with complaints. It works more or less like this: Malaussène manages to assume all the blame, confessing his guilt in such an affecting way that customers take pity on him, so, “the Store” doesn’t have pay for any refund, and everybody is happy.

Being the scapegoat is Benjami’s fate outside “the Store” too. Even if the situations he finds himself are caused by a series of interests and precise logics which have nothing to do with him, he ends up hopelessly guilty. This scheme, which I would like to call Malaussène scheme, is fun on books, but when you realize that what you call fiction is nothing but the reality, you start to look at it with a different eye. In short, the scheme in constituted by the following 3 main steps : 1) spotting a problem, 2) finding the scapegoat, that is, demonstrating that somebody/something else caused the problem, 3) using the scapegoat as means to go back to the status quo ante or simply to upset the status quo, as scapegoats can be used both ways. The field of application I want to use to demonstrate how this pattern works is the one dearest to me: school.  

Step 1: PROBLEM. Every year in Italy there is a learning assessment that we call INVALSI.  It is aimed at measuring the level of competence in Italian, Mathematics and English of different groups of students: in essence, it photographs the state of health of our school system.  Well, it seems the  Italian school system is far more than sick, it has a foot in the grave, actually. Just to give you an idea 44% of high school students do not reach satisfactory levels in Italian , 51% in Mathematics, 51% in English-reading and 63% in English-listening in 2020/21. The figures for Italian and Mathematics are shocking, as for English, well, everybody knows there are no good English teacher in Italy, so, no surprise.

Step 2: THE SCAPEGOAT.  If data were  taken seriously, after such an outcome new strategies would have been studied, and quickly, but, of course, effective strategies have a cost,  particularly, if we think that there have been no investments on the school for decades here. Furthermore, I wonder whom the strategist might be, as I detect no such mind capable of drawing the guidelines of the new school or somebody who is not  in the pay of political forces. As it was crystal clear that there was no intent for a change and , of course, no money on the table, a scapegoat was necessary to justify such a downfall.  It  was not so arduous to find one, but  quite the opposite, it was handed on a silver  platter.  Since these were the first tests after the outbreak of the pandemic, the designated scapegoat couldn’t but become what had characterized education in the years of Covid 19: on-line learning.

Step 3: THE  SCAPEGOAT  EFFECT. Hence, on-line learning has become the source of any ill regarding school and more. Is a student depressed? It’s because of on-line learning. Anorexia or bulimia? On-line learning. Demotivation and frustration? The same answer. Even when talking to parents, on-line learning has become the perfect justification to any behaviour and achievement below the expectation, thus demanding indulgence on my side. The consequence? On-line learning has been banned. We are about to go back to school with more than 200.000 Covid cases per day, in small classrooms with about 30 kids, with no ventilation system working and with the most absurd plan to follow in presence of  Covid cases in class. In short, 6 months of on-line learning in two years have caused a drastic drop in the levels of competence of Italian students and mined their psychological stability. Is it to be believed?

THE VARIABLE. Scapegoats cannot always work, as sometimes significant events, let’s call them variables, happen.  These variables contradict mainstream narration so manifestly that they can neither be overlooked nor hidden.  The fact in questions was the selection of magistrates held from July 12 to December 2 2021: out of 5,827 candidates only 88 passed, and most of them were “rejected” because of the written test. The writing skills of the aspiring magistrates were regarded poor, as there were not only technical but also grammatical deficiencies . We are talking about candidates who have a university degree and a master at least and, this is no small detail for what I want to demonstrate, they must have been in their early thirties, so they could not be the product of on-line learning, but rather the clear effect of years of policies made of cuts only and reforms at zero cost. For years all the methods concerning education have constantly converged to one main goal: inclusion. What’s wrong with inclusion, some of you may ask? Absolutely nothing, it  is a very daring objective, but the only way we have to include all, and avoid what today is considered a mortifying selection, is by lowering learning standards. There is no other way, no other miracles can be done, unless governments decide to invest on education.  Hence, in order to avoid depopulation, universities couldn’t but lower their learning standards too. And this is the result.

You may now object that all this talking didn’t but demonstrate that scapegoats are ineffective. Quite the contrary. In case of variables, strategies have only to be integrated a little: you overwhelm means of information with contrasting data, thus creating chaos and wait till the event is forgotten. And this is how we keep proceeding to nowhere.

Propaganda, Mysteries and Slip-ups

“Art. 36 .It is necessary to prevent direct or indirect discrimination against persons who are not vaccinated, for example, because of medical reasons, because they are not part of the target group for which the COVID -19 vaccine is currently administered or allowed, such as children, or because they have not yet had the opportunity or chose not to be vaccinated. Therefore, possession of a vaccination certificate, or the possession of a vaccination certificate indicating a COVID-19 vaccine, should not be a pre-condition for the exercise of the right to free movement or for the use of cross-border passenger transport services such as airlines, trains, coaches or ferries or any other means of transport. In addition, this Regulation cannot be interpreted as establishing a right or obligation to be vaccinated”( REGULATION (EU) 2021/953. 14 June 2021).

“The habit of thinking ill of someone/something is a sin, no doubt, but very often you guess it right” was of the most famous mottos of Giulio Andreotti, who was a shrewd protagonist of Italian politics for more than half a century. So, yes, I am a sinner because I thought ill, when I read the Italian translation of EU Digital COVID Certificate Regulation, published in the Official Journal of the EU, and I realized that the reference relating to the choice of not being vaccinated was missing. Yet, that part was not missing in the translations of the other EU countries and this makes me an awful sinner even more. It was just a slip-up, we were told. Nothing more.

Propaganda is a truth devoid of facts, some useful omission here and there, which makes the narrations of events slightly, conveniently different, but still remaining a truth. Words, images are chosen carefully, so that to impact on the irrational part of our brains, evoking fears or sometimes a sense of emergency. This new “emotional” truth is so effective that we are prone to accept it just the way it is. It does not mean to be discussed. A recent example? The narration of the  lockdown of the unvaccinated in Germany.

In Italy we have been bombed by all media for weeks and weeks on how effective the lockdown of the unvaccinated in Germany was, so effective, that after few weeks the rate of infected people had dropped drastically. So we were told. A miracle. No article actually explained in what this lockdown of the unvaccinated consisted. That was omitted. Everything was let to one’s imagination and my imagination associated the word lockdown to the very first lockdown, when queuing at supermarkets was one of the few chances to be in the open air, as we couldn’t even move further than 200 meters from home for a walk. Those were the days when at 6.00 p.m. we all gathered together to sing our frustration from our balconies, as if we were part of a propitiatory rite. This is what the word lockdown evokes to me, and many others have interpreted it the same way too, as more and more articles and comments started to claim to do as in Germany, that is, to lock all the rebels in their homes and throw the keys away. This is what we believed. For a while.

Germany is not that distant from here, so it has been inevitable in the long run to get reports which mined the authenticity of mainstream information. Different voices stated that in Germany the measures were similar to those adopted in Italy, although modulated in a different way, concretely in three levels, which overall offered more flexibility than the Italian system. Hence, there was no such lockdown for the unvaccinated. It had been proposed by parliamentarians in Austria, but rejected in Germany. Furthermore, the reported drop in the number of infected was incorrect and mostly due the a reduced number of tests.

At this point, whom should I have trusted? My thirst of truth brought me to disturb Aladin, who blogs at Lampmagician and lives in Germany (he was on vacationwhen I called him, actually), and he confirmed that such lockdown never existed there. This means that whatever we read should be subjected to intense investigation before being accepted as real, as today’s information is nothing but an endless ocean made of truths and lies, which are presented to us with same aura of credibility.

Hence, not only Italy and Germany adopt similar measures, but, and this is not a small detail, in Italy, the unvaccinated are not allowed to go to work, even if they make a test every other day. Vaccines are not mandatory, they say, only, you cannot work without the pass which proves you have had your two -and now three – doses. When I booked the booster jab, it clearly appeared on my screen, I was acting by my “free” choice, which was pretty annoying, as for teachers full vaccination has been mandatory since 15th December 2021. The article n°1 of our Constitution says that: “Italy is a democratic republic, founded on work”, but you may lose that Constitutional right if you refuse to be “voluntarily” vaccinated.

So, yes, I think ill and I am a sinner. Pretty soon the obligation of vaccination will be extended to all working categories, which could also be a good thing, I don’t mean to discuss vaccines here, but my fear lies in the fact that we have legitimized a method, that is, if you don’t do what it has been decided you lose your freedom and constitutional rights and, in my opinion, the word which better explains what’s going on here ends in –ism.

Together

In a previous post, at the beginning of this outbreak, I had stated  that the experience of disasters often promotes social changes and the coming together of communities in order to help one another, as the presence of a common enemy, like this virus, reinforces the impression of being an active  part a community. And, this is how it started: together. Despite the shock, fears and heavy lockdowns, we all gathered singing together from our balconies, showing our rainbows of hope, hands together, brothers and sisters from all over the world saying: everything will end well. We truly believed so. I did. However, after almost  two years, not only the battle against Covid hasn’t ended yet, but that feeling of brotherhood seems to be lost. What went wrong?

After such a long time it is natural to feel psychologically worn out and restless. We all have the impression to have been caged in an invisible prison unaware of how many years we have ahead to serve this sentence. Pandemics have been a constant threat  in the history of man, and for centuries they have been tackled more or less in the same way: quarantines, social distancing, lockdowns. It  has also been very  similar the growing sense of dissatisfaction and intolerance with which people endured those restrictions in the long run, as despite all those measures, future was still shaky. Vaccines have constituted  the only solid difference from previous pandemics, our wild card, but it is exactly on this matter that the most insane radicalization in the perception of reality has happened.

A war between pro-vaxxers  and anti-vaxxers, whose tones and fury remind me of the religious fights of the 16th century, has broken out most violently and I am talking about religion on purpose, as during debates I notice that dogmatic approach to the question of vaccines, which  is  more typical of faith rather than science. The means of modern communication, I have to say, actually help our natural propensity to polarisation. We have got used in time to grabbing meanings quickly stopping at headlines, which are impactful on purpose, thus avoiding the effort of going beyond  the first paragraph of an article. This is how information becomes misinformation. Such superficial approach, in fact, tends to a simplification of the reality, which offers no different interpretation from:  black or white, pros or cons . Yet, “A truth is rarely pure and never simple” warned Oscar Wilde, but it cannot be denied that this approach has resulted  into a radicalization of opinions: you are with me or against me.

Politicians have made their good part in radicalizing the situation even more. At the beginning of this outbreak governments couldn’t but navigate by sight, trying to avoid the rock of an economic crisis and protect the health of people at the same time. We were still all together on that ship then. When vaccines were made available, things changed. Hailed as the panacea for any problem: the end to the state of emergency, school openings, the saving of global economy, lives and more, vaccines became totemic. It was at that point that the most unexpected turn in the narration of this pandemic from almost all governments took place: all of a sudden we were not all together against the ominous virus any longer, but those who refused to be vaccinated and those who questioned the totem were the new enemies, the scapegoats of any possible future failure.

In short, I , Mrs Tink – fully vaccinated – was relegated to the side of no-vaxxers, flat-earthers, virus deniers and such, because I am unable to read the reality as either 0 or 1. I don’t want to discuss science, I am not qualified, but I want only to make a point on what we know for sure on how these vaccines work today and draw a conclusion:

CERTAIN OUTCOMES 

 1. After 1, 2 even 3 jabs I can still be infected and pass on the disease, as vaccines do not provide full shield.

 2. People who were previously protected because of a prior infection can now be quite vulnerable to getting reinfected and passing on the disease.

POSSIBILE OUTCOMES

1. The vaccines’ protection against severe disease holds strong .

At this point I don’t think it is blasphemous to state that vaccines have not worked as hoped. Reports suggest that large indoor gatherings of fully vaccinated people can become super-spreader events, but governments, and Italian government in particular, keep  passing off responsibilities to the small minority, who has refused to get the jabs. All the others, who have been provided with a Green pass or Covid pass which allows free outdoor/indoor  circulation –  without the necessity of wearing masks – , have been told to be bulletproof, therefore, as far as we know now, free to catch and pass the disease all the same. This measure is particularly odious in Italy, as, if you are not vaccinated you are suspended from work, hence, our constitutional rights are at stake here.

And now it’s about Christmas. Just in time to “celebrate” yet another variant , which , as far as we know, compromises the effect of vaccines and most antibody therapies . We have been recommended to stay at home, avoid family gatherings with more than 6 people, wear masks, keep distanced etc. again . This Christmas, the same as last Christmas and, if governments don’t understand than we must fight this thing together, educating people rather than blaming them, the next too. Alone.