When in Rome

So, much to my extreme joy, I had the choices of going to the mountains with my new host family (I'll explain some more on that change later) or going to Rome with my friend and his family for the Christmas holidays. *Note friend has girlfriend, so no mushy ideas there. (I know... It makes me sad too.)

At any rate, my dislike of being cold, my inability to ski, and the draw of seeing a friend I hadn't seen in a while made Rome seem like the better of the two choices. I think going home would have been even more fun, but hey. I mean, it's Rome

So, my friend's family has a house (more like independently owned apartments from the U.S. perspective) that's about a five minute walk from the Colosseum. I was one happy camper. The four days were spent walking around, eating a ton, and having great conversations.
On the 24th, some Italian families have what is called "cenone", which is a large sea food based dinner. Then on Christmas day the celebratory meal was lunch. We had neutered baked rooster (capone), boiled hen, a few side dishes of seafood, buffalo mozzarella, and likely other things I've forgotten. Fortunately I was in tourist mode and walked everywhere, so I managed to escape the Christmas season unscathed. Because pictures will likely be more interesting, here you go!

The first night we went out walking. Meet Daniele, and check out the tree. It was pretty cool.

 

Fountain of Trevi. Threw in a coin, so to Rome I shall return.

Questionably awesome elevators. Really narrow because they were added on to buildings which were a little older than elevators. Just a little. Every housing elevator is like a new discovery in innovation.

 

Really super awesome breakfast pastries.

Didn't get to see the pope, but just looking around was lovely.

Mmm

So here we see the dad, the aunt, the brother, me, and cut off a bit is the mom sitting across from me.

Here you can see the mom better.

Piazza di Spagna

Free concert the day after Christmas. St. Stephen's day, if I remember correctly. This church was lovely in and of itself, though, and just seeing that alone was worth the trip up those steps.

The mouth of truth. 

And here's another one.

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Me and Luna, Daniele's cousin. Lovely view.

Through this hole you have a framed view of St. Peter's square. Here are two shots. Camera doesn't capture the view, but I still liked the shots.

Really cool. Pyramid in Rome.

Had to touch the Colosseum on the last night, and I definitely admire the graffiti work here.

Allende Occupato

If there was one thing I need not have worried about, it was whether my comments in the classroom were too revolutionary. Instead of being afraid of indoctrinating my students into becoming little peace protestors, I should  have realized that that's what they already are.

Almost an entire week of classwork has been missed because students at Allende/Custodi decided to occupy the school. Students slept inside the school, funds were raised for food and other supplies, and the mayhem generally associated with an occupation process was set into motion. Why, you ask? Criticize the reasons as you may, but here is what I've garnered from my discussions with students:

• against the lack of toilet paper in the bathrooms
• against the increase of teaching hours for the same wage
• against the money being unequally taken from public school education as opposed to private school funds-and just generally any money being taken at all, seeing as how there is already so little
• for better/more consistent heating in the schools
• more freedom in the school environment
• the desire to be heard, have opinions acknowledged

Naturally every single class I've taught coming out of this protest has now in some way or other revolved around the Occupy Wall Street movement, as it serves as a recent example of an occupational movement in the U.S. However, now that I think about it, I could take it back to the sit-ins during the Civil Rights movement. There are so many reasons to occupy a space, and it's a fabulous concept that just by being in a certain place at a certain time you can send the message that something has to change, and that you are ready to make sacrifices in order to see that change happen. Glorious really.

I will say one thing. Though I'm really happy that the students gave me a standing ovation when they finally let the teachers into the school building (I shamelessly toot my own horn here. Yup.), they still had all of us secluded  into one room, Aula la Rosa, so that teachers would not be able to circulate and, in the words of the students, sabotage the occupation. Apparently two years ago when the students had attempted an occupation that is what happened. It would seem that the pattern repeated itself. Once teachers were free to roam, after an hour of judicious grumbling about being sequestered away in such a disrespectful manner, they talked the students out of continuing the protest.

While it was not perfectly organized (as if anything could be...) I applaud the students for doing something to try to change the sorry state of public school education in Italy. It makes me wonder what I did with myself during my high school years (gosh that phrase makes me feel old!).

Here are some pics.

Disillusionment

This post serves in a way as a follow up to the post on Social Justice Education. I think it's safe to say I was struggling with some sort of existential issues in that one.

Life happens so strangely sometimes.
So, as I was thinking and thinking some more, I realized I was going through one of my life doses of disillusionment. What I was being disillusioned of I'm not quite sure. Maybe of my hope for humanity, my belief that not everyone is out there simply "to get mine". I think I was hoping to find an experience that was less individualistic than what I had in the United States.

Unfortunately, Italy's culture can be just as individualistic. However, the longer I've been here the more I notice how loving and giving so many people here are. Yes, there are some parts of living that suck. There always will be. Still, that's no reason to write the whole thing off.

So, the rose colored glasses are gone, but the harshness of their removal is tempered somewhat by a decision of the attitude to take toward life. I read somewhere that life is 10% what happens and 90% how you choose to react to it. So, it goes to follow that if I choose to maintain a positive outlook on things (admittedly sometimes very difficult to do) then I'll be just fine.

Yup. Just fine.

Political Musings pt 3- Social Justice Education

(I think I was feeling a little gloomy when I wrote this post but I'll share it anyway. None of us are one mood robots, eh?)

So, being a product of a liberal arts education and more or less a supporter of Freire, I consider myself a proponent of social justice education. The thing is, for me it gets personal. I don't have conversations about social and systemic injustice in a way that is vague and more theoretical than not. So, the question I've begun to ask myself is, "Just how much of myself and my personal interests am I to let into the classroom?" Do I even have the option or the capacity to make such a decision?

I've had a few classes now covering President Obama's acceptance speech, and also the speech Bruce Springsteen gave the day before elections.
When I tell my students flat out that the American Dream is a lie, is that going a bit too far? I felt it might have been. When I tell them to be aware that I have a particular U.S. experience that comes with its own set of biases I want them to be critical of the information I present to them. But if I'm honest with myself I want them to be critical of it in the way that I am. Since Italy is almost completely pro Obama I haven't had much push back, but I still get this impression that I'm trying to indoctrinate a new generation of freedom fighters.

But it's just so personal! I just can't believe in a dream that says that many of the people I grew up with in the Boston "hood" of Dorchester, or in the lower 9th ward of New Orleans just didn't try hard enough to succeed. I can't believe in a dream that blames someone for not being able to overcome generations of ingrained societal hierarchies and prejudices that we pretend don't exist any more. Kinda like that Sicilian I met at Lago d'Iseo who swears to me and anyone else who will listen that the mafia no longer exists in Sicily.
But I digress.

I've also been working with a teacher on movies such as Apocalypse Now (based on Conrad's Heart of Darkness) and Last of the Mohicans, and that got me to thinking about the colonial aspects of education, the power of culture and language in the classroom, and the ways in which I don't realize I assume a particular type of Italian culture or experience of my students. Only recently has it really stuck with me that some of my students aren't actually Italian citizens. Even some of the ones who were born here. I realize that in my classes I make blanket questions about Italian culture without stopping to ask about the other cultures students come from or other experiences they can compare this one too.

So once again I've come to this crisis of identity: The acknowledgement of my own acts of oppression despite often viewing myself as the oppressed. The difficulty and downright annoyingness of acknowledging that time and time again could be why I never seem to remember the lesson.
The thing is that I know my education gives me power and access I can't deny. So does living in Europe, having an ipod, a Mac, and a guitar that I can play.  No matter how old and dilapidated these items are, and no matter what struggles I face here in Milan, all of these are still symbols of wealth and status, of certain approved of life experiences. But you know, I think status is invisible. Or at least somehow deeper than the surface level of how many places you can pin on your facebook map,  the name brands on your back and the electronic devices in your pocket or on your desktop. No matter how much I learn or acquire I don't think I'll ever feel any different from a poor Afro-Latina who will always be sensitive about how people judge her by her cover.

Political Musings part 2

For those of you who read the previous post on politics, you'll know that at the end of the post I resolved to stay awake. I am pleased to inform you that I did indeed stay awake, and that I, a few other Americans, and countless Italians cheered like crazy when Obama was elected president for the second time. It was 6:30 in the morning, and I don't know how any of us were still on our feet after having partaken liberally from the open bar all night. Well, I should speak for myself...

And somehow I also managed to make it through five hours of teaching at school and then two more hours of conversation classes before finally making it home and sleeping for the next 14 hours.

Well since a picture is worth 1000 words I'll let them do the rest of the talking (mostly).

We were clearly the envy of everyone at the election event. I mean, we had Nutella! And we were playing American cards. There were a few really awkward camera-man moments. He kept coming back to film us. It didn't help that we were the first people to cop out and sit on the floor, since there weren't enough chairs to go around.

 

It was a lovely night, and I'm happy the tears shed were tears of joy :).