“The teacher inside”, this is the title of Mario Tagliani’s book. The subtitle is more explicit “Thirty years among the desks of a juvenile detention center” ("Il maestro dentro", Add Editore, 2014).
He is a very special teacher, the only teacher for his students. A teacher without a teaching college or assessments, no grades, nor judgments. A true teacher in designing personalized, inclusive, and engaging lessons.
All quotes, unless otherwise indicated, are taken from the above-mentioned book.
In his words and actions, I have been able to first read and then learn and listen, from his own voice: strength, enthusiasm, hope, trust, perseverance, and constancy, love, dedication. And again: steps together, group hugs, choral lessons, football games, lunches together, visits to the homes and communities of students, explorations together with boys who have become men, sharing life experiences, experienced emotions, and much more. Words are not enough to describe what one can only feel with the heart.
Here is the interview conducted during 2020, in the midst of the pandemic, at a distance.
The Interview
If it is true, as you say, that “‘normal’ programs have created deviants,” and that, “we must have the courage to develop ‘different’ learning models,” can you reveal to me what the secret is to developing different learning models? Can models exist?
“There cannot be models because there is no boy the same as another. That is why programming that comes from above can create ‘deviants.’ When my boys at 6 years old went to school, they immediately experienced what cultural differences are, and the discomfort they felt led them to reject an education they did not feel was adequate. When the two major educational agencies, family and school, fail in their duty, the ‘deviant’ is created, who seeks other ways to assert himself. If the family was not able to fulfill its task, the school, the last bastion, should develop different learning, calibrated on everyone’s skills. I know it’s difficult in a ‘normal’ school, but if we don’t do it often, that lazy, distracted, uninterested boy will follow other paths, many of which will lead him to prison. The luck of my class in recent years was in the small number of students (7 or 8), although the changes were frequent. I knew the story, habits, dreams, and potential of each student, but often the damage they had suffered was irreversible. Everyone was convinced that education was not a priority, so my task, before sitting down at the desk, was to make them love that classroom they had always experienced as a place of discomfort, suffering, and boredom. Rap songs instead of essays, math games, geography through football, the history of each student that became the history of man, were all ‘different’ learning that kept attention alive and often the source of other questions and clarifications. I’m thinking that paradoxically, the broadest freedom of teaching is closed inside a prison classroom!”
Teacher, what value does listening have for you?
“It is written on the first page of the book, freely interpreting a phrase by Simone Weil: listening is the highest form of altruism. But not only that: without listening, I would never have known what to do in the classroom with my boys.”
Teacher, based on your thirty years of teaching experience, how do you see the relationship between school, the classroom, work, and vocational training? Does the word "stand" seem appropriate?
"It's a dynamic, elastic relationship. There's no one method for teaching, nor is there one way to bring together students from all over the world. There's no perfect job, but there must be an ability to read the contingencies of situations in order to tackle life with knowledge. That's why students need to go to school first, because at school we have encounters, and from encounters we learn how to interact with other people. School isn't life, but it's not a game either; but if a once-difficult situation has become pleasant, then we can continue on the path of vocational training in the same way. None of us knows what the future holds, not even I knew that I would choose to become a teacher, but if we have learned to look inside ourselves, we will find our way with enthusiasm. In this sense, I think school and work can have a relationship."
Teacher, what ingredients, in your opinion, prepare students for the journey that awaits them outside and in the future? Or, to use your own words, what is needed to "accompany their growth"?
"A house is made of many bricks, and growth must occur gradually and according to one's own abilities. When these are lacking, we need to intervene, and we discover this only if we are good listeners."
Teacher, in your book you talk about your experience with the Romani people, and you explain that it was unthinkable "to give each of them a task to complete" without them helping each other and presenting a "shared solution." How did you teach in cases like these? What is your teaching methodology in such situations? And according to your long experience, how do you achieve inclusion when all students are unique and different from each other?
"The world of the Romani is a completely different world. To understand it fully, you have to live with them and accept rules that are not necessarily shared. My task was to find a stimulus to get them into the classroom and attract their attention and trust. Written language does not belong to the world of the nomads, so we often read about travel and adventure, treasure and parties, music and traditions. It was then they who asked me to teach them how to write because they had understood that knowing how to write opens up other unknown worlds. The peculiarity of a Romani group was that if one learned a letter, a phrase, or an arithmetic operation, he or she would immediately share it, in his or her own way, with the others, almost affirming a supremacy similar to that which, according to them, money gives you. The history of this people, who have always been accustomed to suffering, I think has come to a crossroads: with the conditions for a legal way of life no longer in place (horse trading, traveling shows, production and repair of agricultural tools, production of objects in copper and tin, etc.), it will have to settle down or only illegal trade and theft will remain."
Teacher, how have you brought and continued to bring "something alive and stimulating for them" into the routine and life of your students?
"If we think about how many possibilities we have today to know the world while sitting at home after the internet revolution, then certainly there is no shortage of stimuli. We must consider that being restricted in a prison means being deprived not only of freedom of movement but also of all those opportunities to know the world. I think of the '80s when students were ashamed to write with a pen for fear of being ridiculed, and then I introduced the computer in the classroom as a means of writing; I think of music, movies, sports, etc., all opportunities to discuss, to give everyone the right time to speak and pay attention; I think of how many rap songwriting competitions that talked about them and their dreams; math games to show how important numbers are. If we look around us and think about how much is missing in a prison classroom, then it is not difficult to find opportunities to learn together."
What does sport offer to young people according to you?
"At that age, sport is fundamental not only because it brings them together but also because it helps to release those hormones that strongly surface. I am convinced that if the boys in a prison did sports all afternoon, naturally organized and structured by an adult, we would not witness those hateful episodes of bullying and domination that occur in cells.
There is a passage from a speech addressed to young people, given in 2017 on the occasion of an event for the preparation of World Youth Day, by Pope Francis. This passage addressed to young people is very dear to me, and I often find myself thinking about it.
It takes courage. And try to grasp the beauty in small things, as Pompeo said, that beauty of everyday life: grasp it, don't lose it. And thank you for who you are: "I am like this: thank you!". So many times in life, we waste time asking ourselves: "But who am I?". You can ask yourself who you are and spend a lifetime looking for who you are. But ask yourself: "For whom am I?". [...] Like the Madonna, who was able to ask herself: "For whom, for which person am I, in this moment? For my cousin," and she went. [...] For whom am I, not who am I: this comes later. Yes, it is a question that one must ask, but first of all: "why" do a job, a lifelong job, a job that makes you think, that makes you feel, that makes you act. The three languages: the language of the mind, the language of the heart, and the language of the hands. And always keep moving forward.
Teacher, you also mentioned similar words in your book, recounting what the director of "Ferrante Aporti" told you on your first day: "Forget about being a teacher, here you have to be the teacher."
You commented on these words a few years ago on Radio 3, but I want to ask you: What does it mean for you to be a teacher, to be one for them? And you, Mario, who are you to them?
"For me, being a teacher meant finding my dimension, my horizon of meaning. I have always carried out my task without effort and with joy. I would also like to quote a phrase from Buddha that says something like this: who is a master in the art of living does not make a distinction between their work and play, between studying and leisure. In their eyes, they are doing both and leave it to others to find the differences. For them, I hope to have been a teacher, that is, to have left a mark like those people we remember with affection and admiration."
Teacher, what is the importance of the educational relationship with students?
"Without a relationship, there is no action: if you do not enter into a relationship with your students, everything you say will be lost 'like tears in the rain.' I have learned that wasting time makes you save time. Listening to your interlocutor, even for hours, was a waste of time for others; for me, it turned out to be a fertile base on which to build classroom work."
Teacher, as an educator, how did you manage the detachment from those students who one day disappeared into thin air?
"It was not easy but necessary. Too many students passed through the classroom, too few days for so many (fortunately). For some, however, when the crime was serious, you knew the misfortune of life, the unfortunate circumstance of being born in the wrong neighborhoods, at different latitudes, in families that were the source of despair. And here time dug deep grooves that stayed with you, but over time you learned that there was no time to smooth them out because other students were coming to the classroom and you had to give them special attention, listening to them to know what to do. The frequent turnover of the class had imposed priorities on me: I had to give those students the tools to face the world, knowing that they would face it alone. Learning to write, to read, even between the lines, to count to reach even the day after tomorrow were tools that they did not possess and without which they would always be behind the others. It doesn't matter if a student doesn't contact you anymore, who knows where life has taken them, the important thing was that they knew how to read life to be responsible for their actions. It's true, I am still in touch with many students, others write to me, but if I think about the multitude of people I have met, these numbers become laughable. However, I like to think that one day, in a remote part of the world, the student who passed through my classroom will stop for a moment and say, 'My teacher told me this!'"
In the book "Per fortuna faccio il prof" published in 2018 by Bompiani, a fellow teacher of yours, Nando dalla Chiesa, wrote: "Being a teacher is a unique profession. [...] A treasure trove of endless memories and an endless announcement of the future." Could you tell us about some of your students' futures, teacher?
"Many of the students I met in the 80s are now normal citizens, with families and children. At that time, however, work was not a problem and the Italian origin of almost all of them facilitated their reintegration. The great foreign immigration, on the other hand, complicated that path that was simpler for an Italian. The foreigner has no documents, is not tied to any city, and often is manipulated by Italian or fellow criminal nationals who are the only possibility of work. Nevertheless, many have freed themselves from these organizations and, by changing cities, have reintegrated into training and work paths. Some have tried to make it on their own and have opened kebab shops, cleaning companies, imported exotic products, and so on. One young man, who is now in London, after various experiences in Italy, works as a taxi driver and often takes me around the city when I visit him."
Why did you write "Il maestro dentro"? Who did you write it for?
"First of all, I was asked to, but then I thought that, having reached the end of my life as a teacher, it could serve future colleagues as a basis from which to start again. Later, however, I realized that there aren't many books for poorly educated teenagers, and my students hardly read books. So I tried to write it for them, in a simple and clear way, telling true stories in which they could recognize themselves. The writing of the book also passed through their judgment, and when I brought it to the classroom, they felt a part of it. Every year, new colleagues call me for meetings with the students, and I notice that the book is worn, a sign that someone has browsed through it and read it. Currently, I manage a section on a blog, www.apassoduomo.it, called "Dietro il muro" (Behind the wall)."
What does it mean to you to devote yourself to your students and to spend not only mornings but also free afternoons with them?
"It means willingly and enthusiastically carrying out a profession that is not a job in terms of hard work but an exciting and always new experience. No one ever forced me to spend afternoons with the students, but it was natural to spend more time with them because that time was precious in the classroom in the following days. The students understood that you were not there because you were paid to do it, but because you liked being with them. Students who were often rejected by their families now felt precious because you can't play a soccer game with just three people; everyone was important if we wanted to make balanced teams. Of course, there were jerseys to distribute and collect, balls to inflate, but the students couldn't help but appreciate what was being done for them instead of wasting time on a gray afternoon. When you needed their attention in the classroom, what you did before became precious to involve them in disciplines they had never appreciated."
Guys from all over the world, born in different countries, how do you bring them together? How do you encounter "difference" in the challenge of being a teacher? And, in your opinion, is "difference" a value?
"I didn't bring them together, but the crimes they committed did: thefts, robberies, drug dealing, and drug use. So, there was a common denominator, and I started from there to demonstrate that discomfort, uncertainty about the future, and fear of tomorrow exist at every latitude. Of course, not everything went smoothly; there were conflicts mostly born out of prejudices or old grudges that the gangs had created outside of prison. But after the first week, which was the most critical, the boys knew that they could be calm and serene in the classroom, and they could ask that adult who was with them anything that was legal. Countries like Bangladesh, Ecuador, Tunisia, Morocco, Albania, Romania, and China are nations that we got to know deeply because we had the most important raw material at our disposal. Comparisons, similarities, typical dishes, culture; every day there were discussions that made the lesson important even for me, as I learned more in those moments than by reading them in textbooks. My multi-class was a richness that the homogenization of groups, as the "normal" school does, can forget."
Too often, school is still, as you say, "a place of suffering and punishment" for some kids today. How do you, as a teacher, help kids discover their talents and strengths so that they can succeed and achieve their desired goals in life?
"A priori, I don't know how to do it, but I know that if I spend time listening to them, even if they tell me lies, sooner or later, they will tell me something true, and from that moment, I can start my adventure with them. You'll never have the certainty that everything works, but you must not give in, as some teachers do at school, who promote them after failing them a couple of times, just to get rid of them."
In your interview on "TV 2000" in 2019, you mentioned Recalcati and "L'ora di lezione" several times. Like me, you also enjoy reading stories of other teachers, stories of education, stories that also talk about affection between educators and students, stories of encounters above all, inside and outside of school.
When you say "let's make them have good encounters," what does it mean to you as a teacher?
"Life has taught me that it is at school where we make more encounters than anywhere else. But if we don't attend school, how can we make encounters? But if we put a boy in prison during school age, what encounters will he have? That's why I've always fought to bring more external people into the juvenile correctional facility, so that the boys could meet different people, Italians and foreigners who had made it after difficult moments, writers and famous people with whom to talk while sitting at the same table. The soccer tournaments organized in the facility were nothing more than opportunities to meet boys of the same age, and after the game, we all went to the big recreation room to spend the third half together."