school

I study as Batman

HI read somewhere that Veltroni's daughter went to study in New York.
Even the daughter of D'Alema.
I wonder if it's true.
The daughter of my neighbor, called Lulu El Fawal Greta, will study at the professional in Quartoggiaro: even resembles the one in New York, but from parts of the Bronx. Because of the cuts, even the professional Quartoggiaro, like all other schools of the kingdom, will have first class of 27-32 students (depending on how many people can cram into a classroom is like a Sudoku with human material). And they all speak different languages, but know the same quite picturesque insults, is not it? Already in there ... at least until your daughter should not enter.
Teachers in this school come precarious, as in some others, will be deluded young and very willing, ready to lose their virginity ethics and convert the scam soon to find that it does not pay to be good. "It does not pay" is an expression that must be understood literally: the risk of not being paid for several months is real and concrete, and is part of a shared experience of the class where the existing precarious of all levels belong .
When I was precarious, more or less 25 years ago, we were paying, even if the first experiences in the classroom were not very different from today. I remember being entered for the first time in the class of an institute for professional trade and industry by taking over the Milan hinterland to a depth of letters came running out in tears. Inside the classroom, there were eighteen terrible thugs, in fact, that later turned out totally harmless, even if the fifth in a class he had no interest in English grammar. One of them, in my five weeks of supply, not ever opened his mouth and continued to fill the bench airplanes of paper, then threw in the lesson. Only once this came out of the autism condition to take up, grasp one of his airplanes and crush it into a fist raised. Then he looked happy and said: "Prof King Kong." It was then that I realized the enormous educational potential of film.
Many years later, I went to a discussion of the thesis of my son's life partner and indignation. It was a theory of design. The commission was chaired by a guy with glasses and yellow- vomit child colored pants: very fashion. The guy spent the entire discussion aimed at talking on the phone. At the time I was shocked. I also wrote to the dean of the faculty, but received no reply. I am still wondering why, if one writes to me, usually I answer. The answer is like the smile is not denied to anyone, if the question is asked politely.
That's why I tried to teach my daughters to ask the questions in a courteous and clear. I could not protect them from the awareness that this strategy is not effective in itself. After his first meeting as a representative of the students in the school board, one of my beloved child has returned home with a stuffy nose. After having blown it enthusiastically said: "I think the nose was a psychosomatic manifestation, Mom. I did not want to breathe the same air of idiots. " Although doctor entirely without foundation, I find that this explanation can be trusted.

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In his early school years, my little daughter, who does not read anything if it is not illustrated or written on music paper, invented out of whole cloth the story of the books that gave her to read. He could quite successfully duped to teachers, perhaps with the hypnotizing power of his speech. When I realized this, I tried to convince her that the behavior was changed, because it was a scam. She said: "But why? The teacher is happy. "From the series: for hurting someone if you can make him happy? Even here, I missed the answers.
As it is, I still prefer the Italian government and schools. I'm not going to send my legitimate offspring to study in New York, unless grown up, and independently decides on its own. With all the accidents that reserves the garden of wonders that is the Italian school, both my daughters teachers have extraordinary season, in various institutions and moments, and those things that I learned I could not teach.
Recently, it has been much talk of another child of art, after studying abroad, would return to Italy with a slight space-time lag: a disorder negligible, especially if you are not children, that I know of Filipinos crammed into twenty seven square meters. The infant, according to some newspapers of malicious intent, decided to build himself a house like that of Batman, with the swimming pool, sauna and the trap door for the secret lab. I believe he had a black bat costume hiding in the closet, and a machine with rotating wings and a jet engine. I read this interesting news and again I am amazed of the power of cinema: a pity that there were not the Joker. Or maybe yes?
But these, of course, are urban legends. And if there is something, some spark of confidence, certainly not the fault of the boy, but teachers who have had: in Italy or abroad, are all ignorant, rogues, blacks, gays and, most importantly, communists. Even when the student is studying to be Batman.