Give us back the school: the letters of the children who cannot return to class

It cannot even be defined as a leopard spot reopening. There are just three regions in which high schools reopen in attendance. You go to class, only 50%, in Valle d’Aosta, Tuscany and Abruzzo. On 7 January South Tyrol left. For the other regions the date is to be established. Even if there are dates, it doesn’t seem possible to tell when really there school it will no longer be just distance learning.

In class only on February 1st in Basilicata, Friuli Venezia Giulia, Marche, Sardinia, Veneto, Calabria and Sicily.

Distance learning until January 18 in Liguria, Lazio, Molise, Piedmont and Puglia. On January 25, students from Campania, Emilia-Romagna, Lombardy and Umbria should return to class.

Common is the protest, the same for all the disillusionment for the continuous postponements. Distance teaching, say children, parents and teachers, can never replace school in the presence, having classmates, teachers a few meters away, janitors in the corridor, friends to meet.

This is what is missing dozens of young people from all over Italy. They told it by writing letters addressed to the school that we publish from today for the whole week.

Stefania Aldieri 5E Linguistic High School S. Quasimodo Magenta (MI)

Well, we are afraid. We are afraid because we have realized that we are not invincible, and this tremendous awareness has overwhelmed us; a bit like the waves that were too high when we used to play on the beach as children. At that time, we feared nothing, not even the sea, we looked it straight in the eye and bold, we ran towards it. But one day, the sea wanted to teach us a lesson, it sent a wave bigger than the others, a very high wave; that overwhelmed us. As the water dragged us deeper and deeper and we couldn’t breathe and we banged our heads and drank, for the first time we were afraid of the sea; swimming has never been the same since.

The pandemic was for us young people, the “highest wave” of life. Nothing could stop us, we could do and be whatever we wanted, every idea was real, palpable, every dream concrete in our eyes and so one day we were astronauts and the next maybe writers. But life, just like the sea, wanted to teach us a lesson and overwhelmed our reality. Nothing is as before, our present was upset, we can no longer compare ourselves with people of our age, who live what we live, who think what we think and are forced to relate only to the harsh judgment we have of ourselves.

Our future is also irresolute, in a society like ours, highly competitive, only those who study can have a life expectancy worthy and we therefore ask ourselves, if in the world of work, there will be room for young people, who have been deprived of two years of studies. In short, uncertainty dominates in our lives, we feel completely alone and for the first time we are afraid of life; we know that from now on dreaming will never be the same. This fear has petrified, terrified, and disoriented us enormously, yet it has also given us a valuable teaching. Basically we know that, if we didn’t fear the sea, a wave that was too high could drown us and in the same way that if we didn’t fear life, all of a sudden, it could overwhelm us. We therefore have to thank the waves and the difficulties for teaching us to survive, never give up, be resilient and gracefully overcome the “rocks” of life.

Lavinia, 15, Rome

Dear school,
It’s been a little hard to appreciate you lately,
you changed constantly,
at the wrong time,
without even warning me,
and you turned your back on me
when I needed it most.

Dear school you have never been an enemy to me,
nor anything unpleasant
very unwanted,
but lately, I confess, you’re scaring me more and more,
you make me scream and cry
I feel abandoned
I chased you for months without stopping,
from side to side
and then you left me in the lurch
like Theseus with Ariadne.

Dear school, I feel you are distant
distant as never before
I keep screaming, calling you
to ask you to do something;
to try at least a little
not to leave me alone.
There is so much to do
much to still improve
we are here waiting
don’t let go.

Dear school, I know it’s a difficult time for you too,
that the unexpected happened,
and you’ll be as confused as me,
but try to understand me when I tell you,
I told you and I repeat to you,
that if from now on we continue together
everything will become easier.

Giulia Ruberti, B. Zucchi Classical High School, Monza

This time I really thought I could go back to school: since the decision was made to reopen the gates on January 7th, I was ready and happy to walk down the corridors, to look the teachers in the eyes, to laugh with my friends. I was impatient to savor all of this again, which, with every news so uncertain and fleeting, I always miss a little more. Almost every day there is a new and beautiful illusion, immediately shattered by continuous and exhausting second thoughts.

For this I have decided that I can no longer be overwhelmed by the enthusiasm that has welcomed each (non) reopening: we risk losing the strength necessary to remain united anyway. The strength to bring school back to us, if we cannot go back for now.

Giulia, Virgilio Linguistic High School, Milan

Here, again, the same situation: I was convinced that, at the end of the Christmas holidays, I would have had the opportunity to return to a more or less normal school and social life, and instead, once again, we find ourselves in front of a screen black between connection problems and total isolation. I miss commenting on incomprehensible math lessons with my classmate. I miss spending the intermission laughing at absolute nonsense in the company of my closest friends.

I miss the teachers, all of them, even the heaviest ones. I miss being completely mesmerized by the history teacher’s explanation. I miss wandering the corridors aimlessly just to take a walk and have a few words with my best friend. I even miss the endless queue at the machines and then realize I don’t have enough credit on the stick. I mean, I miss school, I miss all those things I’m missing.