Between Via Blaserna and Via dell'Oratorio Damasiano in Rome, there are seven kilometers of road—cutting through Portuense and Magliana. As the crow flies, even less. Yet when it comes to public elementary school, the distance might as well be between the earth and the moon. I found myself literally on two planets, not merely different but opposite: the unwelcoming "Vincenzo Cuoco" and the warmly accepting "Santa Beatrice." I landed on both of them when enrolling my daughter Benedetta in first grade. One detail: she has Down syndrome.
The principal at "Cuoco" violated the first rule of schooling—the child comes first. My opinion? No. I reported what happened and received an apology from the Lazio Regional School Office, along with assurance that such neglect and carelessness would not occur again. It's just a small story, one that ended well enough, and now it might even prove useful in preventing—or at least reducing—future episodes of superficiality and inattention toward children. Incidents of discrimination are far more numerous and grave in every setting. But if the school itself lacks a coherent cultural and social vision, creating obstacles through rigidity or neglect, then we truly are in trouble. Still, this time "the good guys" won 2-1: sandwiched between the "Cuoco's" own goal are the achievements of the municipal preschool "Mondo incantato" and the public elementary "Santa Beatrice."
It did no good that I began preparing a full year in advance, working together with Benedetta's preschool teachers and the neuropsychiatrist from the rehabilitation center to map out the best way to integrate her into first grade. A delicate transition for any child, and far more so with Down syndrome. Everyone insists: "The teacher is decisive. If she has a teaching style that creates rapport with Benedetta, the integration will be much easier. Otherwise, if she's too rigid, the obstacles will be insurmountable." We visited the "Cuoco" principal several times, offering full cooperation and practical guidance. But in the end, she did the opposite—disregarding Benedetta's wellbeing entirely. She ignored the recommendations from the preschool teachers, paid no attention to the functional diagnosis. Why? Perhaps indifference, carelessness, negligence. Perhaps something else. In any case, I found no evidence that she had consulted the Ministry of Education's "Guidelines for the School Integration of Disabled Students," particularly Part III on "the school's inclusive dimension." Those guidelines were certainly not applied to welcome Benedetta.
I was right not to trust them. Schools are made by people. And I found the competent and caring ones just seven kilometers to the west. I arrived at "Santa Beatrice" only after consulting a private school on the same avenue—charging 1,200 euros a month, which amounts to the entire salary of a support teacher for three hours a day.
The principal at "Santa Beatrice" wanted, first of all, to meet Benedetta in person. She gave us an appointment and walked us through the school. All of it. Including the bathrooms. She presented a concrete, practical educational plan—one clearly rooted in real experience. You could see how the school was genuinely open to welcoming students, offering substantial opportunities. In short, we were received in an environment that listens and values the collaboration among school, family, and rehabilitation center. Any comparison with what we encountered at "Cuoco" is simply impossible. The principal immediately grasped what we were trying to convey—how to ensure Benedetta's best possible integration. The dialogue was honest and constructive. Nothing was hidden. We didn't need to dwell on educational expectations and plans. Truly another planet.
The first four months of school confirmed it. Benedetta settled in beautifully from day one. Welcomed with intelligence and warmth, she immediately established a promising relationship with her teachers and school staff. There were no setbacks. It moves me to see how eagerly she throws herself into her homework, with such determination. And it moves me to witness her joy at going to school and the spark that seems to have ignited instantly between her, her teachers, and her classmates. Before learning to read, write, and count, it is essential that Benedetta develop the tools to strengthen her ability to relate to others and gain the independence that will serve her throughout life. We parents have understood the school's approach from the start and we work through everything together. Problems will come—they always do—but we have all the channels to face them as a team.
It wasn't so difficult after all—creating a calm, welcoming situation. In schools, then, it isn't really a matter of budget cuts or special support. It's a matter of people.
Anna Testa, 2011
