Sometimes I think about our children who spend so much time at school, from eight in the morning to five in the afternoon. It’s a long time, practically an entire day spent in a building called school, which for them becomes a family. They have strong points of reference, just like grandparents, aunts and uncles, and older siblings. At our school, there’s Stefania who welcomes them in the morning with her usual smile, or Silvia who treats their small wounds with bandages or simply with gentle caresses. And then there are the teachers who alternate throughout the morning: the Italian teacher, recognizable by her heels clicking in the hallway, the art teacher who enters the classroom with the lightness of a dragonfly, and the music teacher whose voice, reminiscent of a trombone, can be heard from a hundred meters away.
For our young students, every adult has become an essential member of this second family called school. Everyone has their role. As in all families, there’s the strictest parent, who in the school family should be the principal, and then there’s the sweetness of the mother, whom every child sees in their favorite teacher. There’s also the older brother or sister, represented by their high school classmates who come to help them study in the afternoon. And then there are the grandparents, the elders from the “Un abbraccio alla dementia” group, whom our children visit every month, bringing games, songs, and lots of fun.
There are also dedicated spaces: the kitchen, represented by the large desk where all the children gather to listen to the Italian teacher’s lessons; the living room, represented by the sofa in the hallway, where they can relax and chat with friends. And then there’s the garden and the courtyard, where the children play, have fun, dress up, shout, score goals, hug each other, and share their plans for the future.
I like to think of our school as one big family. When I enter the Daisy courtyard, the little ones come up to me and hug me, as if I were an aunt bringing a breath of fresh air to their daily routine. I love it when we gather with parents to celebrate at the Pessione rugby pitch, as distances are shortened: there are no more teachers’ desks, electronic registers, blackboards, or red pens. There are parents who love their children, we teachers who love our students, and there are adults who have discovered themselves, finding affinities, common ground, and plans for the future.
The school is our big family, and we are lucky to do this work, even if, in all honesty, it’s not a job for everyone!
