Vacation season arrives, and everyone approaches it differently. Some plan ahead, some book last-minute, some grab opportunities as they come. It's supposed to be a time for relaxation and fun—a break from routine for young people, adults, children alike. But for many, this simple pleasure remains out of reach.
For young people with cognitive and behavioral disabilities, getting away and taking a holiday alone is nearly impossible without organizations, cooperatives, or associations willing to invite them and take charge. Our young people are complicated, challenging to manage at times, but they want what every twenty-year-old wants: fun and a vacation with friends, without their mom and dad. For them—young people who may never be fully independent—holidays require someone to organize, plan, and accompany them.
So you have to build the vacation, arrange it, find someone to stay with them, and locate a house to use. My daughter Caterina experienced this, thanks to my mother's large home in Montiano and to four or five young people she grew up with in a special community called Fede e Luce. For several years, Elisabetta, Giulia, Filippo, Mirella, and Margherita spent free, unstructured vacation days with Cate. Some years she was more open; other years she was withdrawn and irritable. But they—courageous and patient—accepted our invitation without hesitation. Three or four days alone, like a real group of friends, they filled those days with swimming, the beach, dancing, and laughter. Cate got to do what girls her age do: Giulia painted her nails, they put on makeup, did their hair, had aperitivos and danced by the pool. With Elisabetta, Filippo, and Mirella, they prepared dinners and snacks. Vacations built on friendship, without elaborate planning or unnecessary complications—a small but precious break in a long summer often spent only with family.
Unfortunately, this year didn't work out. School commitments—final exams, university tests—meant we couldn't find a time that suited everyone. Cate would have no holiday with her friends. So four of us mothers had an idea: "If no one can take our children on vacation, we'll create the vacation ourselves." That's the spirit behind a holiday we organized for four young people—two girls and two boys—with cognitive disabilities and autism spectrum disorder, away from their parents.
Lillo and his mother Paola Nicoletti, with their family's help, opened their beautiful home in Cilento and invited three friends: Lavinia, Caterina, and Antonio. The house is in Santa Maria di Castellabate, the wonderful town famous for the film Welcome to the South. Paola, who is also president of the association Siamo Delfini-Impariamo l'autismo (We Are Dolphins—Learning Autism), organized everything with care and warmth for this varied group of friends. She opened the pool, created a garden, prepared and cleaned the yard. But most importantly, she built a network of local associations and people who would accompany, entertain, and support the group, or help if needed. She found four dedicated travel companions who knew the young people and would guide them through this adventure: Luca, Stefania, Anna, and Doina. That's how Welcome to the South—Young People was born (taking the name of the famous film that made the town known).
They met at Termini station—Caterina with Anna, Gabriele with Doina, Lavinia with Stefania, and Antonio with Luca—to board the train together for this wonderful adventure. After saying goodbye to their mothers and a few days of settling in, the fun began. Paola had planned countless activities, walks, and experiences for them.
Paola Nicoletti and Lillo's family were already known to the town; they had been regular summer visitors for generations. Lillo's quirks were no surprise to the locals. Still, the extraordinary welcome this scattered, mixed group received in this small Cilento town was remarkable and moving. Everyone was glad to welcome our children—restaurant owners, surf and canoe instructors, beach managers—and to have them as guests to care for and support, despite their differences and their own quiet ways of saying thanks: a touch, running fingers through their hair, a sudden hug, a jump, a twirl.
Nicola Guariglia was fantastic—their guide and companion. He took them around Cilento, led them on hikes, and organized sports and workshops (they made buffalo mozzarella and took a cooking class; they ate pasta made with their own hands!) with a patience and enthusiasm that warmed everyone's heart: the young people's, the staff's, and the mothers' watching from afar with anxious hope.
The mayor of Santa Maria di Castellabate, Marco Rizzo, came to greet them personally. He organized a formal event in the town council chamber to express the town's pride and joy at having them as guests. This earned Santa Maria di Castellabate the Blue Flag for Autism—a plaque presented to the mayor by the members of the Welcome to the South—Young People group.
An entire community mobilized to welcome these young people, and that alone is something incredible and extraordinary. As I've written before, all it would take is more contact and time spent with young people like Lillo, Lalla, Cate, and Antonio, and we could create fun and meaningful experiences and holidays for everyone. We would discover places and people from a very different perspective. And we would learn what lies in the hearts of "ordinary" people—hearts that, when faced with the challenges and differences of our children, often turn out to be large and welcoming. It's beautiful to see how far we've come in the last fifty years; we've watched society change. We remember well how, four or five decades ago, the wider community wasn't ready to welcome and support young people with cognitive disabilities like our children. Instead, it's a joy to see how ordinary people, even those who don't usually enter our "world," welcome it with extraordinary spontaneity and generosity. There could be many towns and places deserving the Blue Flag for Autism. We are ready to present it to them. Signed: Simona, Lucia, Monica, and Paola—four dreaming mothers.