When Ivana asked me to help her stage a theatrical production for Il Carro's twentieth anniversary, I assumed for a moment that she wanted to put on the familiar little recital that wraps up every theater workshop. But from the start, she made it clear—with real determination—that her vision was different. Yes, she wanted to give the residents a chance to express themselves in a script suited to their particular gifts and abilities. But more than that, she wanted to involve everyone at Il Carro: residents, staff, volunteers. All of us, working together on equal footing, to create something truly collective.
I won't lie—it wasn't easy. Some people resisted at first, and the practical obstacles were real: finding times when everyone could rehearse, juggling shifts and other commitments. But I don't want to dwell on the difficulties here. What I want to say is this: what a joy it was to make that show!
I'm a perfectionist by nature. I've directed many productions—with adults, with children—always sweating the details, always concerned with quality. This time was no different: we were determined to create something dignified and well-made. The work stretched long and hard. Everyone pitched in. We adapted the script, built sets, made costumes. We were cutting it close right up to opening night. And then—somehow—it all came together beautifully. People were generous with their praise, though I couldn't always tell if it was kindness or truth; I was too busy being moved by what I'd seen. The residents were genuinely wonderful. But what really got to me—what truly moved me—wasn't just their talent and enthusiasm. It was how fully the staff and volunteers had thrown themselves into the work. We were all in the same boat together, all responsible, all aware that we were making something as a community. That's what was beautiful.
I want to take this chance to thank every staff member and volunteer who made it happen. Watching it all unfold, I understood something: Il Carro is becoming an ever-wider family. Everyone who's here—whether they live here full-time or pass through for a few hours—has a place and a role. That work, whatever form it takes, has to be done with professionalism. But above all, it has to be done with love and with a spirit of welcome.
Elisabetta Aglianò, 2010