Angela M. is a friend of the family—she teaches Italian at a high school in Livorno. One afternoon in a bookstore, a novel caught her eye. On the cover was a small boy stretching up on his toes, reaching for an apple. Angela has two young children of her own, and in that image she recognized them: that constant striving to reach a little further. She devoured the book that evening and brought it to class. Months later, her students were discussing My Brother Chases Dinosaurs (Einaudi 2016), Giacomo Mazzariol's account of growing from childhood into adolescence and discovering his younger brother Giò, born with Down syndrome—and the bond that grew between them.
Angela couldn't stop talking about the classroom discussion. "The students felt close to Giacomo's age and loved how honestly he expressed feelings they recognize in themselves. We talked about the book for hours, but not about Giovanni specifically or Down syndrome as a medical fact. Each student shared their own experience—at school, at home—and what struck me was how openly, just like Giò, they laughed remembering stories about their friends who are different. Giovanni wasn't a problem for any of them. At this fragile age, teenagers want only to belong, and so they feel they must be right: wear the right clothes, listen to the right music, have the right attitude at school—detached, indifferent, cool. They were moved when Giacomo didn't reveal his real musical taste to the class. They share with him that unspoken wish to disappear, to bury their personality, to hide the beautiful, impossible uniqueness that makes them themselves. The students loved the Mazzariol family most of all—that unconditional love between the parents, which is rare now, and the joy with which they welcomed Giovanni. The students noticed, with surprise, that almost every important conversation happens in the kitchen, the heart of the home. And the children's questions never frighten the parents; they simply tell them the truth."
This book taught Angela's students the power of lightness and humor. "It showed them," she continued, "that when you see things from a different angle, you realize that like Giovanni, everyone has limits, things they can't do. Everyone is irredeemably different, imperfect, and extraordinary."
"When Giacomo finally understood that—when he stopped worrying about what others thought and started to really see his brother, without trying to turn him into something he could never be—that's when," Angela said, "they became inseparable friends." OL