Kates Playground Houf

"Where did all the others?"

December 11, 1979, not to forget.

Thirty years ago they had seized ten boys and teachers and had them shot in the legs. Thirty years ago men and women, students and professors, who in 1979 were my age were massed in the main hall where I studied and followed the lessons in my first year.
Thirty years ago, a corridor of my school was covered in blood.
Thirty years ago, the Red Brigades kidnapped, shot, spread terror.
Today, December 10, 2009, in the same auditorium, with the same witnesses and protagonists of the episode, there was the dean of the faculty and staff members, some journalists, two cameras and a handful of my peers.
Fifteen of the first year. A dozen of the latter. None of the third.
We have heard testimony and then moved as a former student stood up, thanked those present and asked: "Why do so few young people?".
Why? It is a question I'm asking myself, with shame and indignation. I was there, present, and I knew nothing of this episode. Of course, I am a student away from home, but more so anxious to know something, to know and understand.
But today, after class, they all huddled at the exit and present the evidence we were just us, the few, the attentive, curious, interested.
The same former student then raised his voice, young people looking at us: "Because no one remembers? Why must it be forgotten? Why do we talk about those who have committed this act of terrorism and no mention of those who suffered? Of those who had crowded behind a chair, pressed against friends and professors, looking to mount a Kalashnikov in front of your eyes? Who was lying on the ground in a pool of blood? Where did everybody go? ".
I wonder myself and I'm really furious. I do not understand how they can be so apathetic my peers.
The warning of this opportunity came only yesterday, everything was arranged quickly, but I can understand why, because two hundred Italian students attend only if they are given a score? Why?
do not understand, I do not understand, not condone.
Thirty years ago, our school has been targeted because they train managers and entrepreneurs. Even today they form and this fills me with deep shame, because my classmates and peers become managers and entrepreneurs, families are important and will themselves be important. Why do people take the lead did not have the time or inclination to be present today to relive those moments.
Why is it impossible that two hundred people and more anyone besides us has tried to come, especially since they knew that from 16 to 18 there would be another lesson, then removed to allow all interesting to be present at the event. I'm really furious
and frightened. Why
thirty years ago men, women, students, professors were there, impounded, he was shot in the legs and were close in a grip of terror and yet, the next day, with courage, are all presented in class.
Because today, thirty years later, the students have not even had the courage and desire to listen to what happened in the same corridors, in the same classrooms where I now study, we laugh and joke. They
, witnesses, do not forget. We , successors, we do not want to know.

I had to write it, I had to leave the track, I was outside. Why I
not want to forget.