Private School in Italy

It’s been a while since I wrote about the Italian education system, specifically as relates to my daughter. Last year, her second at the liceo artistico, was a disaster. She started the year with three academic “debits” – courses she had failed the year before, and was expected to study over the summer and be tested on in the fall. She and others in her situation were given extra tutoring by the same teacher who had done such a poor job of teaching them math and physics the previous year. Needless to say, it did not do them a lot of good, especially as they were at the same time trying to keep up with all the new material being introduced in class (by the same poorly-organized teacher*). They were given two chances at the make-up exams; Ross flunked all of them.

We were puzzled as to her status at that point. The head teacher (of her class’ group of teachers) explained that she would carry forward the academic debits, which would be taken into consideration when determining her status at the end of the second year. If she passed the second year, the debits would simply be erased and forgotten. This seemed odd, since failing to pass the tests meant that she had never properly assimilated the first-year material, and now would never have another opportunity to do so.

In any case , Ross had fallen into a vicious cycle of assuming that she would fail tests, and then fulfilling that promise; none of us was surprised to be told that she would have to repeat the second year (along with a number of her classmates). Local headlines said that it was a record year for flunking in Lecco, with students at one school even contemplating a lawsuit (on what grounds I don’t know).

Although she partly (and with some justice) blamed herself, Ross was bitter, and did not look forward to repeating the year at the same school. We couldn’t think of any workable alternative, except to try the “traditional” four-year curriculum at the same liceo artistico, which would involve more hours of studio art, and no math or physics after the second year. None of us was sure this was a great idea, since the traditional program had the reputation of being a parking lot for kids who had failed repeatedly and were simply waiting to be old enough to leave school for good. But we gritted our teeth and hoped for the best.

As we got closer to September, Ross increasingly dreaded returning to school, and was thoroughly depressed by the time it started on the 12th. The first day confirmed her worst fears: her new classmates were all demotivated rejects from other schools and classes. Liceo artistico tradizionale was not the answer.

But Ross quickly found her own solution. Many of her friends attend, and recommend, a local private school. So Enrico visited the place on Tuesday, Ross and I had a look on Wednesday, we enrolled her Thursday, and she started Monday morning. Ever since we made this decision, Ross has been motivated and enthusiastic about school as I haven’t seen her in years – which is wonderful!

One irony lies in the curriculum. This school offers two indirizzi (tracks), liceo linguistico Europeo (European linguistic) and liceo della communicazione. Ross can’t do the linguistico now, having missed a year of Latin and German – too much material to catch up. The curriculum that best fits the work she’s already done and the subjects she’s interested in is communications, with a subspecialty in technology, leading to a maturita’ (national school-leaving exam) in science. This is the same exam she would have done if she had gone to liceo scientifico, an option she would never have considered! In this curriculum she’ll have extra math (five hours a week total), plus physics and chemistry, as well as IT courses. And, so far, she’s perfectly tranquil about this choice. Maybe she got her father’s math gene after all.

So, after years of pain, things are looking hopeful on the educational front. I’m sure it won’t be an entirely smooth ride, but, hell, it couldn’t get much worse than what we’ve already been through!

Tuesday: Two days in the new school – so far, so good…

* We later learned that this teacher was trying to cope at home with a husband dying of cancer… In the circumstances, it would have been in everybody’s best interest – especially the students’ – to give her a paid leave of absence.

next: school year abroad?

Crawling to Conclusions

I mentioned that I was going to be on TV, part of the audience on the Italian political talk show L’Infedele hosted by Gad Lerner.

Lerner showed far more political bias than he had in the previous show I attended (partly about Microsoft, partly about taxes – two inevitabilities of modern life?). My friend David Callahan and I were flattered to be specially shown to seats in the second row, stage right, until we realized that they had put us on the side of the cattivi (bad guys), as Lerner jokingly remarked. I was seated behind Gianni de Michelis, a long-time bastion of the Italian Socialist Party (abundantly disgraced by the Clean Hands anti-corruption investigations years ago), who had been Italy’s foreign minister for years during his heyday. Staring at the back of his greasy head for hours was not particularly edifying, his political opinions even less so.

The topic of the evening had been changed from “George Bush and Iraq” to “Are we winning the war [on terrorism]?” More broadly, should the war in Iraq ever have been started and have we (the Coalition) won it? There were several videomontages of recent violent events, with disingenuous voiceover narration. And, as I had expected, Giuliana Sgrena took part, remotely from a studio in Rome.

Someone had told me she wasn’t likely to participate, as she hadn’t given any interviews since her disastrous exit from Iraq, and was still recovering from being shot by American troops at a blockade as she was being carried away from her kidnappers (the Italian secret service officer who had secured her release was killed outright). But there she was, and, after so long a silence, she had plenty to say. As did everyone else, though few said anything sensible or surprising. This, too, was disappointing. Lerner picks intelligent guests from both sides of his topics, but these two groups were each entrenched in their own positions, and nobody was listening to anybody else.

The show was being broadcast live, with commercial breaks every 20 minutes. As break time approached, a young producer would hold up a sign for all of us to see: 4 minuti. 2 minuti. 60 secondi. Pubblicita’. These were largely ignored by whoever had the floor at the time, in spite of Lerner’s efforts (more determined in some cases than others) to shut them up. We missed one break by at least 10 minutes. Even on a TV schedule, Italians will be Italians… The show ran overtime by about 15 minutes, as is common for many live shows in Italy. Tivo would have a hard time working correctly here.

The one distinguished guest I felt any sympathy with was Anna Prause, seated on the “good guys” side. She had gone to Iraq with the Red Cross, then was hired by the Iraqi government to help set up the new Ministry of Health. As the situation for foreigners in Iraq deteriorated, she was eventually advised to leave, advice which she took only reluctantly.

When she finally got the floor, she exploded, saying that, while things in Iraq are still bad, and more dangerous than they were before, things are also better in many ways that are not understood or mentioned by the press. She gave an example: one of her tasks for the Ministry of Health had been to set up a new headquarters, planning everything right down to office fixtures and furniture. A year ago, she could not get her Iraqi colleagues to make a decision on anything even as minor as the color of the office furniture. Not because they were stupid or had no opinions, but because they were accustomed to watching carefully to see what opinions they were supposed to have, so that they could parrot those back to their political masters.

A year on, they not only had opinions, but were very happy to argue about them. This, she said, demonstrated an important change for the better in everyday Iraqi life, in spite of the ongoing violence. Is security more important than liberty? That’s a fundamental question which almost every country faces today. Personally, I come down on the side of liberty, but I’d like to hear from Iraqis themselves how they feel about it.

That evening forced me to confront and clarify my own very mixed feelings about what’s going on Iraq and how it all went down.

I always knew (who didn’t?) that Saddam was very bad news for the world and especially for his own people. He was a monster, partly of American creation, so the US had some responsibility to clean him up. The sanctions imposed after the first Gulf War caused tremendous suffering among the Iraqi people, without adversely affecting their “leaders”. I have mentioned my schoolmate who was married to an Iraqi and lived in Baghdad -through two wars – until her death from cancer last year. When I met Shahnaz and Achmed in 1996, Achmed’s salary as a schoolteacher was 3000 dinars a month: just about enough to buy a pack of cigarettes. Of course they couldn’t survive on that; their extended family, like everyone else in Iraq, was scraping along by selling off valuables and assets, and getting poorer all the time.

Yet Saddam seemed to have accomplished a sort of brainwashing (not surprising – as absolute dictator, he controlled all the media). People didn’t like him but, as Shahnaz insisted, “In Iraq we have a saying: better the devil you know than the devil you don’t.”

Post facto, it’s clear that most Iraqis didn’t feel that way, and are relieved to have got rid of the devil they knew for so long. So I can’t regret that the US military went in and removed him. I am, however, furious at how Bush & Co. lied, cheated, and manipulated the American people into agreeing to this, and then managed it so badly. There are plenty of other reasons to be angry at the Bush administration, but on this issue I may come out feeling much as I did about Reagan: I hated his methods and attitudes, but must, however grudgingly, applaud some of his results.

Dec, 2006 – No, never mind. Removing Saddam was never worth what’s happening now.

International Broadcasting Conference 2005

above: This sign outside IBC will be funny to Firefly fans, and no one else.

I’m just back from IBC, the International Broadcasting Conference (at least I assume that’s what it stands for), in Amsterdam. It’s all about technology for television – from cameras and lights to satellites and set-top boxes. Most of the equipment and software are far beyond the reach or needs of a video beginner like me. But that’s what we would have said about video cameras not that long ago, so I amused myself in speculation about how soon some of these tools would move into the hands of “prosumers,” and then rank amateurs. And I formulated some ideas about how I could help that happen.

The biggest stand was Sony’s, demonstrating HD (high definition) TV. They and several others had sets crammed with intricate objects and, in several cases, live people, so that you could truly appreciate the fine resolution of the HD videocameras there for testing. Three of these displays had women getting made up by professional makeup artists. Actually, one of them was getting full body paint, which might have been interesting if I’d felt like standing around to watch it. The point was to look through the cameras at the level of detail that could be achieved. I noted that one camera had been left zoomed in on the model’s rear end – not a lot of detail there.

Sony also had a huge screen to display the output of its HD cameras, with a beautifully shot and skillfully edited sequence of breathtaking images. After their own ten-minute ad, they ran a teaser for a film, also presumably shot in HD, called “Mystic India.” I don’t go in for that whole mystic India shtick, but the footage was so amazing that I’ll have to track down and buy this film.

Show tchotchkes (give-aways) are not what they used to be – mostly cheap pens, and it seemed as if every stand was offering a drawing for an iPod, as a way to get your business card. I did get a logo-printed stopwatch from some company, advertising the speed of its processors. The only company giving t-shirts was Adobe, so I now have a nice Adobe t-shirt (black) with the IBC logo on the back. And, perhaps even better, they gave me a two-DVD set with trial software and video tutorials on how to use it. I was entranced by the demos of their professional film and audio editing software. (Down, girl! You don’t have time to play that hard.) But I stayed away from the Apple booths – drooling over computers is so unattractive.

One of the coolest things I saw was fuel cell camera batteries, from a company called Jadoo – which must have been founded by an Indian, because jadoo means “magic” in Hindi. And magic it is: battery packs for professional camera operators, no bigger or heavier or more expensive than the traditional rechargeables, but with longer shooting times, and environmentally friendly: just attach a small cylinder of hydrogen to the recharging unit, and the only emission is a bit of water vapor.

I overload quickly at hyperkinetic events like this; when you’ve got an attention surplus, an environment in which everything is moving and talking and visually extremely attractive is a constant assault on the senses. And it’s physically tiring standing or ambling around hall after hall. Everyone at these shows soon becomes miserable, and will listen to any sales pitch, if they can sit down in the meantime.

As for Amsterdam itself, I barely saw it. The first night we ended up going back to our hotel (way the hell out somewhere – everything in town was booked) for a very mediocre meal. Saturday night we had dinner at an authentic Dutch restaurant (a student hangout, really). A bit too authentic. I was surprised to find that the Netherlands are behind Italy in one sign of civilization: smoking is still allowed in restaurants, and there isn’t even a separate smoking section. So the restaurant was very smoky, and I’m paying for it now with lung and sinus congestion. The dinner, at least, was excellent: the best liver I’ve ever eaten, sliced thin and very tender, topped with fried onions and bacon. And some pretty decent fries. With mayonnaise, of course.

On Sunday, I met up with Jan and Joel, two American vloggers in town for this week’s VlogEurope meet-up. It’s always fun to meet face-to-face with people you’ve met through email or video; you sort of know each other, but there’s plenty left to discover. After that I got together with Woodstock alumnae, two of whom I hadn’t seen since schooldays, and another I’d never met at all. This was the opposite of the earlier meeting: these were people with whom I had had little or no contact in 25 years, yet we still (and always will) have a great deal in common at the most fundamental level.

“What Do You Do?” Not Defining Oneself in Terms of Work in Italy

“All societies throughout history have had work right at their center; but ours – particularly America’s – is the first to suggest that it could be something other than a punishment or penance. Ours is the first to imply that a sane human being would want to work even if he wasn’t under financial pressure to do so. We are unique, too, in allowing our choice of work to define who we are, so that the central question we ask of new acquaintances is not where they come from or who their parents are but, rather, what it is they do – as though only this could effectively reveal what gives a human life its distinctive timbre.”

Alain de Botton “Workers of the World, Relax”- New York Times, September 6, 2004

An American meeting another American for the first time usually asks: “What do you do [for a living]?” As Botton suggests, this may be because, to an American, what you do for a living is a choice that reveals much about who you are. The question may also (consciously or un-) be intended to establish relative economic status. Personally, I like to know what people do simply to find some connection on which to hang a conversation.

In Italy, the question is so unusual that I’ve stopped asking. For most Italians, most of the time, there’s simply no need to ask: you hang out mostly with your paesani (hometown folks), about whom you already know everything. When you do meet new people, it’s often in the context of work, so again there’s no need to ask.

Italians more often define themselves in terms of where they come from (paese) and who their family is. No one has a choice about these things, but many Italians don’t have much choice about their work, either. They may choose their field of study, but even that is often strongly influenced by the family. When seeking a job, most are heavily constrained by the tight job market and their need, both economic and psychological, to stay close to home – job satisfaction is a very secondary consideration.

Katrina

iPods appear to be programmed with a sense of irony. When I turned on my iPod for my Monday morning commute and set it to Shuffle, the song that came up first, at random, was Randy Newman’s “Louisiana 1927” :

Louisiana, Louisiana
They’re tryin’ to wash us away
They’re tryin’ to wash us away

That seemed funny at the time. I’m not laughing now. I wasn’t prepared for how hard this has hit me. I was born in New Orleans, but I haven’t been back there in over 30 years. I vaguely wanted to go, someday, retrace my roots – my father was born there, and his mother, and, a few generations before that, our Tiemann ancestor came from Germany and settled there, just in time to fight for the state of Louisiana in the Civil War. I still have relatives in New Orleans. Hopefully.

I figured there was time yet in my life to go back to New Orleans and learn something about where I came from.

I was wrong.

Gulfport

Below is from the Woodstock alumni group; KIS refers to our sister school, Kodaikanal International School in south India.

Sept. 1, 2005

Joel lives in Gulfport, MS and is a nurse. He raised lots of money from his hospital and others in his area for the South Indian Tsunami victims, established a non-profit and went over to India for several weeks to find places where he could be helpful. Quite a guy!
Jane Cummings

…As to our situation I haven’t had time to think about it. We stayed at my step daughters house for the hurricane and on my way into work last night stopped by our house, it was overwhelming I must admit. It was in a 500 year flood zone, essentially meaning that it would not flood. We are close to I-10 and our house was 10 feet higher than I-10, was told that interstates were built above all flood levels, wrong! I had checked into flood insurance when we first moved there and was told that we didn’t fit in the qualifications because of the elevation, well, 90% of the damage is flood damage and not covered by insurance! But at this time that is all beside the point.

I stopped at the house to get a uniform for work and not much was left in the house, ended up coming in in my shorts and t-shirt, we are working 20+ hour shifts because so many staff cannot get to work or have not been heard from, the stories we are hearing of survival and death are amazing and beyond my normal comprehension. This is truly America’s tsunami. I had been planning to be leaving for the reunion Thursday morning, that is not happening, I was really looking forward to seeing you but that will have to wait for another time. I fear that the fatalities may well rise above 1,000 in a two county area, there are some areas 10 miles deep and twenty miles long that nothing is left standing and was completely under water, nobody knows yet what happened to those residents who stayed. We are having Coast Guard helicopters, sometimes one after another for hours at a time bringing in survivors picked off roof tops. The hospital was severely damaged however the only one in operation on the Mississippi coast except for one on the far eastern side of the coast so needless to say we are being stress to the max to provide for the needs of the people. I do believe that after the search and rescue phase is complete that martial law will be implemented.

I have not had time to contemplate my personal situation, I find it ironic that 15 years ago we lost everything in a house fire, and now a flood, that’s the definition of “hell & high water” for you! Anyway the bottom line is our family survived and we can replace anything else in time. So it’s one day at a time and it is times like this that one has to re-evaluate priories and be thankful for what we do have. My break is over, I’ll be in touch periodically, thanks for your concern. You can share this note with anyone you think may be interested.

Take care, Peace, Joel Turner, ’70


and, in case you’re inclined to blame the victims…


Worse Than Iraq?

from a discussion forum for professional TV photographers:

The reports coming out of New Orleans right now are just unreal. People are getting beyond desperate and it’s only a matter of time before someone in the media gets shot. I’m urging anyone who can contact your people on the area – get them out before all hell breaks loose. You can always go back after the military has regained control.

If you don’t believe me, then just read this

It’s the same thing on CNN and Foxnews too. For God’s sake, get clear of this while you still can. No story is worth dying for, not even this one.


Lighting a Single Candle

A sample entry from http://www.hurricanehousing.org/

Housing for 3 people in Selma, AL

I live in an old mobile home in a rural area outside of Selma. I don’t have much but what I do have I am willing to share as best I can. I figure we can make room for 2 or 3 for a few weeks. It ain’t much to look at and I ain’t much of a housekeeper but it’s dry when it rains, cool in the summer with air and warm if the weather should turn cold. Town is about eight miles away. Work in the local area is spotty at best. I have a real friendly couple of pets here, both a dog and a cat (well, to tell the truth sometimes the cat ain’t so friendly) and if you have a friendly socialble pet that might be able to get along OK with them and might like to run around on a couple of acres in the country, we’ll see what we can do to accomodate. If you’re looking for luxury, this ain’t for you. If you’re looking for someone that will share the little bit that they got, come on up this way and lets see if we can’t do something to get you settled. The conditions here are probably best for someone that can get around OK. Disabled and handicapped would have some problems. All I ask in return is that you pitch in around the house and provide as you are able.

Deirdré Straughan on Italy, India, the Internet, the world, and now Australia