The boy who dreams of becoming a teacher for his dead father
[ad_1]
Yesterday I took a boy scout to do activities with me at the Sampdoria stadium. Pietro (invented name) he is 20 years old and looks like Caparezza’s little brotherof which among other things he is a big fan: small frame and wadded hair, great humility and ability to listen and reason, perfect uniform complete with short breeches and handkerchief. The scout leaders of a group in the area entrusted it to me to spend a day with me. “So see what you do, how you live, and talk a little.”
And that’s how Peter yesterday he came with me to Genoa, even though he knows little or nothing about football. Before the kick-off he helped me in the snack that in all the matches (in collaboration with Sampdoria president Marco Lanna) I offer to the fans of the opposing team: saw in the face the amazement of the hundreds of Roma fans away to see themselves served and revered by the team last in the standings but first in sportsmanship; he photographed my curtains with the Giallorossi supporters who, having overcome their initial distrust and bewilderment, stopped to chat in my refreshment corner inside the guest sector. And then she followed me down the south steps, the beating heart of Sampdoria cheering and my second home since I was a child: he saw how many friends and girlfriends I have on those steps, he observed with curiosity the powerful cheering and unconditional lovewitnessed our umpteenth defeat, the concern of the fans about a future that unfortunately smells more and more of relegation and failure, with a restart that promises to be long and very difficult, and which nevertheless does not scare us.
After the return trip, he came to sleep with me in Santa Croce sull’Arno; and he finished the job by bringing breakfast from the bar (croissants and takeaway coffee) to my companions in the misadventure of the night center for homeless people where I live by choice of life. And then, after the dormitory emptied and while Barbara, Laura and Rosa went into action as they do every morning to refurbish the dormitories, bathrooms and corridors, the two of us stopped to talk. This is where Pietro told me his story. “I do letters in college, but I didn’t go to high school in high school. I graduated from a technical computer institute, I wanted to become a video game programmer. But then along the way I decided to change. A little for my Italian teacher at the technical institute, who had a preference for me and who made me fall in love with literature rather than computer programs. A little bit for the scouts, who made me understand in the teenage years the importance and beauty of being educators, of helping kids to grow up. And then there was the death of my father ». Pietro stops, a lump in his throat prevents him from going forward. I wait for it.
I tell him what little I know about death: «More than saying that a person has gone to heaven, I like to say: he is in the air. In the air in the sense that it is invisible, but you still breathe it, you still live by virtue of him, of the good that you wanted him and that he wanted you, and that will continue to bear fruit ». In the meantime, Pietro recomposes himself, and begins to tell again. “My dad died suddenly when I was 10. He felt bad under my eyes. At first I didn’t understand much: I was just so sorry. And I didn’t fully understand the work my mom had to do over the years, finding herself alone with my sister and me in the middle of the storm. Economically we do not lack anything, but the emptiness in the home and in the loved ones is still very great. We made ourselves strong. I began to search for my father through all my memories as a child, finding him in many of my ways of behaving and in many of my choices. Including the latter, to do letters at the university to become a professor in high school, and try to be that father figure for my future students that I missed so much ».
The newsletter
If you want to stay updated on the news of Florence, subscribe for free to the Corriere Fiorentino newsletter. It arrives every day straight to your inbox at 12 noon. Just click here
20 October 2022 | 08:49
© REPRODUCTION RESERVED
[ad_2]
Source link
