After getting through elementary and middle school "with honor," I earned my diploma. But then what? I would have liked to keep studying, but in those days there weren't many chances to continue. My only occupation was serving Mass at the parish and, once a month, meeting with my friends from Fede e Luce. My pastor, Don Armando, decided to start a cooperative called "Shalom" whose members included people (as we say now) with disabilities: we worked with Ceramica delle Puglie, packaging cups, saucers, and plates, attaching labels and decorations. My job was to stamp the boxes that held our finished products. I remember my coworkers fondly: Mariuccia, Sabrina, Onofrio, Enzo, and especially Piero and Silvio, who were the supervisors and handed out our pay. But I also remember the arguments that sometimes broke out among us, which I couldn't bear. So one day, tired of hearing them, I left because I was desperate, and then Piero came looking for me. I sometimes broke things: I'd put cups on the conveyor belt and they'd fall and shatter, and Piero would scold me. Though I never argued with anyone, after 10 years Ceramica delle Puglie moved away and we were out of work. Now what do I do?! I asked myself.
I was unemployed. Well, not really—I took a ceramics course at an Art Institute, learning to knead clay and decorate terra-cotta vases. But that experience ended too. Then in 2007, a technical commercial high school organized an "Ecological Care" program for disadvantaged people; wonderful experiences: new tutors, new psychologists, new activities, new friends I miss, especially because this experience also ended after one school year. So I went back to days when all I had was music—especially my favorite kind, choir music, mountain choirs, church choirs. I dreamed of having my own choir, of being the conductor myself, and I would conduct... conduct... and I felt important.
Meeting AIPD
Listening to music and imagining myself conducting my own choir wasn't my only way to spend time. I made myself useful at home, helping my mother with chores like setting the table, hanging laundry, running small errands to the supermarket or dairy shop (though I'll be honest, counting money isn't my strength—luckily the shopkeepers are honest, so I can trust them!). My mother was worried and thinking about other solutions to my work problem. It's true I was still an altar server at the parish, but we really needed to find actual employment. Searching, we learned about the AIPD (Italian Association for People with Down Syndrome), which focused on job placement for people with disabilities. We got in touch, and I started regularly attending their office in Bari: I was very happy to meet new friends and new tutors, and the organization seemed very serious to us. My tutor was Salvatore, who came from Bari to Monopoli for a while to help me become more independent. He helped me understand that I'm a boy with Down syndrome. I don't know why, but until that moment I hadn't noticed this small difference... I have to say it was difficult and hard to accept at first; but (thanks to the water from Lourdes) I got through that too, even if I had to drink a lot of water to do it!
When we finished the first issue of Vivere In, I brought it home as if I'd won a race and been given a trophy
The meetings to help me become more independent worked: at first my parents had to drive me to Bari and wait for me during the association meeting, but after a while I managed to take the train from Monopoli to Bari on my own! I would write down all the stations between Monopoli and Bari on a piece of paper in pencil, and cross each one off as we passed it, so I wouldn't make a mistake and would get off at the right stop. I went to Bari by train to meet friends once a week in the afternoon, but my parents would pick me up in the evening because it was getting late.Independence Leads to Internships
One day my tutors at AIPD made me an offer: an internship at the State Archives doing data entry and archiving (this time I felt truly important!). From September 2012 to June 2013, I woke up each morning to catch the train to Bari. From the central station I took the bus to the State Archives, and I had to pay attention to get off at the right stop: I never made a mistake, whether taking the train or the bus (my Guardian Angel was watching over me!). At the Archives, I met Daniela and Rossella, two truly special people who guided me through the work. Since I knew Word well, my job was to archive old documents and enter them into the computer. It was difficult at first because it required so much attention, but after 10 months, do you know how many names I had entered? More than 5,000! The filing system included: name, parentage, date and place of birth, residence, political affiliation, profession, and so on. After 10 months, the directors of the State Archives gave me a wonderful gift: they printed my work and presented it at a conference attended by many important people. It was very demanding work, but I remember it with great nostalgia.
I did a second internship at the Bari Museum Complex: again, my job was archiving old documents, scanning them, and entering them into the computer. This internship lasted three months (October 2016 to January 2017). So I started traveling every morning, Monday through Friday: the train was the same but the route from the station to the museum was different—I had to take bus number 20, validate my ticket, pay attention to the route. When I saw the Castle, I knew I was about to arrive, so I'd press the bell and get off. From the stop at Largo Santa Chiara, I'd walk to the Museum Complex. My shift started at 9:30 and ended at 12:30. Then I'd make the trip back to the station and catch the train home. I have to say it wasn't easy—sometimes it was very demanding—but finally I felt useful; my coworkers even say they miss me. I wonder why these experiences last such a short time?!
Working at the Print Shop Is No Easy Job!
After my time at the museum, I went back to mornings without any real work. True, I help at home and assist my mother, and if there's nothing else to do, my choir is always waiting for me. But it's not the same as feeling useful to others. The days pass waiting for my altar server duties at the parish, my monthly meeting with Fede e Luce, and those vacation days when we get together with other Fede e Luce friends, just a few days but intense ones: so many good memories!
For a brief time, my current pastor, who heads the diocesan Caritas, asked for my help: I had to type some handwritten documents from parish records into the computer. But that ended quickly too. Then 2020 brought me an unexpected, wonderful surprise: a manager at the Vivere In Publishing House in Monopoli asked me: "Do you want to come work at our printing shop? We need you!" It's true that the Lord works in mysterious ways. My father goes to the countryside every morning, so he drives me there and picks me up for lunch. I'm thrilled! My coworkers—Sante, Gianni, Marco, Dario, and Antonio—welcomed me with open arms. This time the work is different: printing and laying out magazines, books, even volumes about the Vatican. When we finished the first issue of Vivere In, they gave me a copy and I brought it home as if I'd won a race and been given a trophy. When I get home, my mother asks: "Everything okay? Did you work well?" And I answer: "Uuuuh! I worked hard as could be," and everyone laughs. But why?!