The Fabrizio de André school, on via della Nocetta in Rome, has been integrating disabled students since the early 1980s—with real commitment and deep faith in the value and possibility of putting the law into practice. Today, across the main building and branch campus, 45 disabled students attend classes among 600 total enrollments.
We spoke with the vice principal, Professor Carla Rapò, on a sunny, windy morning at an outdoor café on the Gianicolo piazza, between the Garibaldi monument and the brilliantly colorful puppet theater. The setting seemed emblematic somehow, perfectly aligned with what we heard.
Essential principle: coeducation. Everyone in the school has the right to grow and learn together.
Professor Carla began by listing the logistical conditions that have made it possible for so many struggling students to integrate well.
- Villa Pamphili Park surrounds the school and makes every kind of outdoor activity possible—free running, nature study, classes held in the open air, and more.
- Workshop programs in various activities within the school allow all students to engage in music, ceramics, theater, and cooking during scheduled times—with obvious benefits for everyone.
But, she emphasized, what truly set this difficult journey in motion were two things above all:
- the principal's determination to open his school to integration,
- the commitment and dedication of certain core teachers with special training who were there from the start of this work.
Speaking with Professor Rapò, we sensed certain firm principles, foundational convictions that sustain and make fruitful the work of these people:
It is essential to believe that we are all called not to eliminate—which is impossible—but to lighten the burden of disability.
- The concept of coeducation. Disabled students, non-disabled students, teachers, school staff, and families all have the right to grow and learn together, benefiting from mutual support.
- Disability is seen as a disruptive force against the inertia of Italian schooling.
- The concept of integration, which must evolve: from mere enrollment as physical presence to "integrated identity," where every member of the group has a role and personal qualities that make them a full member of that community. From this comes the idea of "situational disability"—disability that changes, becomes more or less severe depending on circumstances—and the conviction that we are all called not to erase it (impossible) but to lighten its weight.
Accompanying these foundational principles (and flowing from them) are practical guidelines and cautions—necessarily quite general, like signal lights marking dangers, showing exits, suggesting special paths.
Disability can be a disruptive force against the inertia of school
Let us repeat them as we understood them in our conversation:
- Often situations are difficult, seeming to exceed our strength. We must then remember and accept that each person does only what they can—all that they can—and that itself is progress. This holds true regardless of our plans (or ambitions).
- We must not become rigid about principles, even seemingly essential ones. For instance: it is not true that a disabled student can do everything the others do, or that he can spend the same time in class as the others. What matters is how we use his time and his abilities.
- Working with families: this means listening to everything parents know and tell us about their child, while also making sure they neither give up on supporting him nor harbor illusions or make demands that are too great on him and the school.
- The integration of disabled students must happen gradually and thoughtfully.
- Continuous learning is necessary. We must use every tool—from those mandated by law to those experience teaches us. Every lesson learned within our school or others must be treasured and put to use.
Let us turn to a pressing concern. The Fabrizio de André school, like all others, faces new difficulties today.
- The special education teacher is assigned no more than 9 hours per week per recognized disabled student. Yet through careful scheduling and clever class groupings, the school manages to support the most vulnerable students for more hours.
- Classes are no longer limited to 20 students when a disabled child is present; they now have 23 or even 25 students, which naturally makes teaching and learning harder overall.
- A great help today is the steady presence of a municipal educational assistant with specialized training, who follows the disabled student throughout the school day, helps with movement, and meets his needs.
And then—and then—Professor Carla spoke to us about her students, one by one. She told us of Carlo, a small boy with Down syndrome, eager to learn, who moved even the examiner to tears on exam day. And of Francesco, autistic, who felt at ease in class, but during a trip to Paris, despite continuous support, grew anxious and restless, creating quite a few problems.
She could have gone on for hours, and we would have listened, there in the wind and sun, between Garibaldi and Pulcinella's theater. But eventually we had to say goodbye—Cristina and I—carrying a new hope with us: "Finally, something real. Not theoretical. Real. Lived. And beautiful."
— Tea Cabras and Cristina Tersigni