Manuel
Manuel is four years old, with large, dark eyes that are often furrowed or frightened, only rarely at peace. He is in the second class of preschool with eighteen classmates. He speaks only a few words, draws when he feels like it, watches everything intently, and runs and jumps constantly.
At first, his classmates admired him for his strength, his energetic games, his willingness to break the rules. But as the days passed, his silence and reluctance to join in various activities began to create some wariness and uncertainty in their relationships.
His Mother
She is deeply present, full of passion and courage. She wishes the teachers would do more to interest and involve Manuel in classroom activities and projects. It seems to her that they lack faith in his abilities—which she insists are considerable, only blocked by his excessive restlessness and difficulty concentrating. Since conversations with the teachers have become strained, she now prefers to go directly to the local health authority. Naturally, this does nothing to ease tensions.
The Other Parents
On the whole, they are supportive of Manuel's mother and attentive to Manuel himself. He is, of course, always invited to his classmates' birthday parties and sometimes spends afternoons at one friend's house or another. No one makes a point of his little outbursts. But perhaps some of them wonder whether Manuel's mother sees things quite clearly—whether she fully grasps the real difficulties the teachers face with her son.
The Specialists
Specialized educators, psychologists, and the school psychologist (if one exists) appear only through the judgments and diagnoses his mother reports: "He is a gifted child, very gifted. He just has trouble concentrating. He needs to be stimulated, engaged." THE TEACHERS are four in number—two full-time and two aides who rotate between morning and afternoon. They watch Manuel carefully, follow him closely, and encourage him to try. At the same time, they believe he cannot do much more than he does. When, near the end of the year, each child received samples of their work, and Manuel's mother asked for his, she was told: "Well, ma'am, you should thank heaven we keep him in the classroom."
Manuel's Triumph
The final days of school arrived. A music recital: children sang with the specialized teacher who had guided them all year, performed small dances, and played simple instruments in small groups. The same week: a theater workshop performance. Master Ettore and all the children acted out a fairy tale-game with pirates, mermaids, waves, and giant octopuses. In both shows, Manuel played an instrument, moved in time with his classmates, gestured excitedly, laughed out loud with them. He participated. He had fun. The teachers pointed to him proudly, the parents smiled and congratulated him, his mother held him close. How much longer will it take? How much effort, how much ingenuity, how much love will it take before the primary school—or any school—becomes like this final week for all the Manuels who walk through its doors?
Pennablù, 2010