Benedetta Coppari is 22 years old, on the autism spectrum, and for several years has spent time with friends from her parish group at Santi Martiri d'Uganda in Rome. With them and other fellow interns or association members, every occasion becomes a chance to experience moments of independence away from home. It starts on Sunday, the beginning of her week. "I go to the 10:30 Mass, I sing and I'm part of the choir. After Mass we hang out with friends. Sometimes we go to the Caffè Dolcezze bar too. I get a donut and hot chocolate and we spend about an hour together." When I ask Benedetta whether her mom and dad—who are listening to our conversation—can come to the bar, her answer leaves no room for doubt: "No. I'm with my friends. It's better if Mom and Dad don't come because I'm with my friends." I ask what difference it makes to be with or without them: "I'm happy. Being with friends without Mom and Dad makes me happy." She lists them by name—the same friends she plays basketball with Sunday afternoons: Annamaria, Roberto, Lorenzo, Margherita, Giampiero, Camilla, Stefano. And who pays the bill? "Everyone pays for themselves. I have my own money!"
Tuesday is her most eventful day of the week: after her internship, which she reaches strictly by bus, "I meet my friend Luca and others to eat together. There's Alessandro and Giulia and we go to McDonald's or Stellina, in the Garbatella area. We meet at Circo Massimo and take the metro. Luca works at the municipal rose garden; we see each other at 3 p.m. at the stop. Then we go together to the metro and get to San Paolo or Garbatella for about an hour. From there we go to Fuori dal Guscio, where I do theater. And then I go to my psychologist." On the way back her father Marco picks her up—it gets dark early, so we have to wait until the days are longer for her to come home alone by bus. "With Fuori dal Guscio we go out for the whole day once every two weeks; we go to the cinema and then eat at Mamma che pizza, a restaurant. One evening we even went to the Colosseum. We go in minibuses, without the bus or without Mom and Dad coming."
It's better if Mom and Dad don't come because I'm with my friends. What difference does it make? Being with them without Mom and Dad makes me happy
It's better if Mom and Dad don't come because I'm with my friends. What difference does it make? Being with them without Mom and Dad makes me happyA few days ago something new happened: an impromptu lunch with her boyfriend, Luca (not the same one from Tuesdays!). "Mom wasn't happy about it, she didn't want me to go. Dad gave me the money. I ate gnocchi with cheese and pepper at the bar by the basilica park. Luca does an internship at Marconi; I helped him put his water bottle in his backpack. He walked me home. We'll see each other when he gets back from his winter break. I took the metro to get there and he was waiting outside but couldn't see me… we were looking for each other and couldn't find each other. I brought him a Pikachu keychain, just like mine." Benedetta has a twin sister, Camilla, who is on the autism spectrum in a more complex way. "For her—her mother Chiara explains—there aren't the same opportunities that Benedetta has. She's started attending a day center, the Santa Rosa." "Camilla," Benedetta adds, stroking her sister's hair, "went grocery shopping at the supermarket and got a croissant at the bar." And when they all go out together? The difference is quite clear: "I like it just the same but I have more fun and I'm happier with my friends… they don't tell me what I have to do!"