Since childhood, I've loved writing poetry. In 1989, with help from the Centro AIAS di Massa Carrara, I published my first collection, titled "Emotions." Now I write articles about disability and its challenges, as well as essays and narrative pieces. Beyond writing, I love reading, listening to music, and being surrounded by warm, cheerful friends. I'm part of a newly formed Fede e Luce community, and I'm about to coordinate a Documentation Center on Disability for the Municipality of Carrara.
Strangely enough, when I find myself talking about or thinking about solidarity, the word doesn't bring to mind human or gospel principles. Instead, it reminds me of something purely secular—a brief, comic tale by Italo Calvino called "Solidarity," from his collection Before You Say "Hello". The story unfolds in the absurd, unreal manner Calvino made his own. It tells of a man taking an ordinary evening walk who stumbles upon a band of thieves struggling and sweating to break into a shop's metal shutter.
The man is so struck by their effort that, without much thought and certainly without judgment, he lets himself be drawn into their cause. He wants to help. After they've emptied the shop, one of the thieves sends him to keep watch on the street. There he discovers a group of police officers in ambush—they've been hunting this very band for some time. Now it seems natural to the man to join them too, to offer his skills for what strikes him as the right purpose: capturing the criminals. During the chase, he finds himself back with the thieves, sharing their flight completely. In the confusion, the police shouts and the thieves' voices fade away. He's alone again, resuming his walk as if nothing had happened.
This story, absurd and comic as it is, has always made me think hard about what solidarity really means. It's about our willingness to let ourselves be drawn into other people's struggles. It's about actively sharing in their suffering, making it our own. Like the stranger in Calvino's tale—the moment he sees others in difficulty, he makes that difficulty his own. He steps in without fear, without asking too many questions. He has the capacity and the will to inhabit other people's situations, to feel what they feel, to become—in his heart—both thief and police officer at once.
