I was re-reading today Maria Pranzo’s beautiful letter published on this blog entitled “a woman premier.” An unfortunately predictive letter… after all, there was no doubt that it was, to quote a very famous movie, the Chronicle of a Death Foretold.
This year after the summer the sea or the mountain, returned to our cities to expect we found the countryside… It was not so much the usual rhetoric or slogans that struck me as the use of a few words that I was struck by, rather reluctantly following debates and talk shows, perhaps motivated by the obligation to try to think.
On Thursday, September 8, the news of the death of the Queen of England, Elizabeth II, quickly went around the world, interrupting with an impressive media force the ordinary everyday life of a September afternoon. Immediate reactions due to heads of State or famous people but also the curiosity, sometimes morbid, of ordinary people. After all, the “blue blood” is not for everyone, and in any case, whether we like it or not, Elizabeth II was certainly an important protagonist of the twentieth century. Yet this prosopopoeia celebrating the political and human greatness of the Queen bothers me.
In recent days we have heard so many, among them a statement by Hillary Clinton about Giorgia Meloni is striking: “The election of the first woman premier in a country always represents a break with the past, and it is certainly a good thing. But then, as for any leader, woman or man, she must be judged for what she does “.
In recent months I was struck by the reaction to the article written by Sara Lazzaro about boys and the choice of their future (THE FREEDOM TO CHOOSE YOUR OWN TIME).
I just work with high school students and I see them worrying about what awaits them, sometimes afraid of not being up to something that they have not yet become but that already overwhelms them. Then there are also the guys who with great certainty and rigor already know what they will do and will be without the slightest doubt. They don’t necessarily get better… The jump from high school to the future is uncertain by definition, it is completely free, it is a fact more exploratory than a priori certainties. It’s not just meeting these guys that I’m interested in.
A strange thing happens every year in summer. The first part of summer seems to pass slowly, lazily. The days of July and the first part of August last a long time, and in dazzling light we put our feet in the water, stretch out on the sand, look up at the stars, and without almost realizing it let go of the year of work behind us.
Then August 15 comes and suddenly things change.