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December 31st at school means nothing, the year is not over, the term is not over, it is a day of didactic break, a day that passes. However, the idea that this December 31st Take away 2020 an idea of the ending it gives you.
What tenderness gives me that I myself from last year, the one who in December had the utmost concern to give everyone the second vote in history before. Christmas holidays. The one who took home for the holidays all packets of checks to correct and who enjoyed reading the usual controversy about school. In December, schools were generally talked about just because of the immortal tirade about holiday assignments (give them? Not give them? Give too many? Not give them at all?), With ensuing debate among supporters of the theory that “today nothing is being done at school.” and advocates of “these children have the right to rest.”
The comments were unleashed with the publication of open letters alternative teachers entrusting students with the task of “not taking family time for granted” and of “rediscovering the joy of being at home.” i think i know exactly What good would those letters do to our students today, reducing them to many rectangles and wrapping them around a cardboard core?
I almost regret the usual end-of-the-year instrumental polemics, Christmas performances, and cribs scholastics, with the champions of the defense of traditions dressed as shepherds on the one hand and the defenders of the secular school on the other, with an inevitable confrontation over the secular problem of the crucifixes. Instead of the crucifixes, they sent us the sanitizing gel and, as for the saints, I think the ones we take out in each lesson when the connection fails are enough.
Classes were suspended with the certainty of meeting again immediately after Befana, January checks were posted and one had the impression that the quarter was spinning out of control. Now, however, everything is very uncertain: we return on the 7th but perhaps the 11th, but certainly a little at 75, when not at 50, staggered between 8 and 10, with hours of 60 or 45. When at At the last Teachers College we started reciting all these numbers at a time when someone opened the microphone and yelled “both!” Hero.
Life has changed in front of us and the school has changed between our fingers, because the school evolves, transforms, adapts like few things because it cannot stop and it cannot afford to give up. The school she moved to another place, in the open air, in the bedrooms, in the empty classrooms; forced us to reinvent ourselves, to learn, to seek solutions, sometimes effective, others clearly inadequate. He put us to the test because exams never end and he threw everything that doesn’t work in our faces, exacerbated differences, magnified difficulties, highlighted inconsistencies.
We certainly understood one thing: that, like people, the school is not an islandIt is part of everything, it is an essential link that, if neglected, drags the rest into the abyss. Who knows what the next school will be like: we would like it to be open, safe, renovated. We will find it as we always find it, full of contradictions. But also full of guys, hopefully. We expect many things: instead of the usual reform this year, the vaccine could arrive.
Of course, we have to read first, God forbid, we don’t let anyone inject us. I read for example that the lady Brigliadori she fiercely opposes the vaccine injection because she claims that Satan is inside. But if it’s just that, then I’m calmer.
And I would say that teachers can rest easy, we have hidden resources: after all, anyone who has taken care of the canteen in a courtyard of an institution that includes primary and secondary school, supervising crazy twelve-year-olds , or anyone who made stand-ins in the last hour in a class of 25 teenagers amid the holiday excitement, it’s hard to be intimidated by trifles like a global pandemic or by Satan himself.
I’d like to see him, Satan, do integrated digital teaching. It wouldn’t last a week. Amen.
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