This is an open letter which represents a snapshot of a reality too often ignored and submerged in a society in which prevail the cult of beauty and aesthetics frantic search. A society that has forgotten, in fact, has just killed off a large slice of the population who by choice or condition does not reflect the standards of aesthetic perfection. A society that does not recognize some essential issues that are a lot of ordinary people which stories are destined to be buried in silence ever, in sad indifference of a country distracted by pointless minutiae.
My name is Alex, I'm 21 years old. I was born and raised in a town of Palermo and has always gone unnoticed if not for some story of mafia or crime, especially in the 80s. A town that offers nothing for several years, even in my memory, has never offered anything to its citizens.
will be clear as it may be difficult for a guy my age live in a place where the only dynamics is stagnant in the days go by, always the same, always terribly empty and an end in itself.
Implementation professional, career, future, independence. All this in a community like mine is impossible is even unthinkable. And 'hoping to realize crazy stuff to stay here.
Alessandro, 21 years, residing in a town with no resources of any kind, a mother suffers from Crohn's disease at least once a year for eight years, suffered a shelter and in no way able to get the check partial disability support in the opinion of doctors would be responsible of law, a father now in his sixties with 35 years of work by construction worker engraved on the back curve and the thin body of one who rests even in August because there used to stand . Two sisters, one of which is untraceable, the other married to a former heroin and cocaine addict receiving treatment at the SERT.
Alexander, 21. Only with luggage loaded on the shoulders of other people's problems and the desire to escape from here to be a future, to realize his dreams, he hoped to be able, as it did forty years ago his father, as did all the fathers to have a life of its own, a home, a wife and children home to cheer for this earthly journey to which we cling so tenaciously, as if we were to ever die. But how?
Twenty years after I left university, almost immediately after signing up. After a not too complex reflection is well understood that I had the opportunity to do the full-time student, so I looked for a job. Night Porter, 3 nights a week, 10 hours per night for a net gain of € 20 per round. Clearly not enough even for supplies to the machine. The machine that, even with a sick mother at home, I was forced to steal for three nights a week to move from home to workplace. A Nissan Micra thousand, ten years old and 120,000 km, bought used of course, because imagine if you can afford the new market. Well, since that money was not enough, I offered to cover the afternoon shift as a receptionist. Same employer, then that equals a lot of other employers. More then three shifts per week, this afternoon, and 6 hours each. € 15 per round. In summary: 3 night shifts at 20 € and 3 afternoon shifts to 15 €. Equal to 420 euro per month, which is 192 divided by the number of hours worked per month is 2.19 (rounded up). Two euro and nineteen cents an hour. And you know when I realized I could not do it? When one morning, returning home after a night spent at work, I sat on the bed and I started crying like a madman. Because one thing for me has always been the foundation of all: dignity. And I lost it a bit every time I offered my job at 2 € per hour. That morning I finished my stock of dignity. A few days later I decided to leave that job to give the "resignation", carefully put that in quotes because it never discussed contract.
From July 31, 2010 I went unemployed for all purposes. Not bad for someone who wants to escape and have a future. Dozens of companies have, in one of the most remote drawers, a copy of my CV, which is certainly not rich, but I wonder how it can be if you do not have the opportunity to express their skills on the job.
My name is Alex, I'm 21 years old. I'm a young Italian, who a few years ago wrote an article about a school newspaper. "TVB Constitution." This was the title of the article. My head was struck by that "piece" and does not hesitate to send it to the presidency, from which came a reply, unexpected I must say, by the Secretariat of the Presidency of Napolitano, in the person of Elio Berarducci. A piece of paper, put there a few lines in haste to imagine a happy young student. No matter how they were written these few lines, but it made me proud and made proud of my teachers, my principal. So much so that he wrote to my family that "I am sure that your Alexander will have a bright future." Brilliant!
'm Alessandro, I am 21 years old and some days I started to ask me questions: is it really worth continuing to fight for a place in this society where it seems that the only ones who can think about going forward are those already made at birth? Those who already have their first cry from the confidence that someone will be great and that whatever happens is not never will suffer the pains of the useless and desperate search for a job, those who never suffer the humiliation of having to work nights and day to earn less than 500 € per month. It is really worth? E 'plausible, being alone and hardly understood, we think we can check in any way? And why, for what absurd reason my country, for which I have a strong sense of belonging, can not improve? And how to make myself better all around if it remains unchanged? What is the welfare in this country? Meaning that by taking this really the first 4 items noostra the Constitution?
'm Alessandro, I'm 21 and I'm tired of not having answers to my questions. And so I decided to put pen to paper available to all. In the hope that some answers finally arrive. For me and all the young Italians who every day have to reckon with the huge uncertainty that our grandparents have left and that our fathers are going to leave this country.
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