DRONERO — The Maira valley is a borderland territory. France is just on the other side of the Alps, while here in Dronero, a small town nestled on a hill, we are in the Piedmont region of Italy. Last year, Dronero welcomed 54 newborns, but lost 85 of its residents. About 7,000 people live in the village, and more than 1,200 of them are either foreigners or of foreign descent. And yet, the numbers don’t add up.
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There are two primary schools in Dronero, and most of their students are of foreign descent. The two primary schools located in neighboring municipalities, in turn, are almost exclusively attended by children of Italian parents. What is going on? Why is there such a clear divide?
The issue was the focus of staff meetings in Dronero’s schools. “The separation of kids of foreign descent from Italian ones is complete nonsense. There are no understandable reasons related to learning or the so-called language gap,” says Simone Demaria, a teacher at one of the schools. Then why is this happening?
Oversimplifying reality
Dronero has always welcomed migrants looking for work. They can find it in bicycle factories, in agriculture or at Falci, a local business that has made handcrafted farming tools in the village since 1921. Some of Dronero’s residents come from Romania, the Maghreb region, China and central Africa, and they mainly work in factories and farming.
Many of their kids were born here. Italian parents are free to enroll their children in the school of their preference, but they have decided to send their kids to the local schools for convenience. At Oltremaira, one of the two local primary schools, children born to foreign parents account for 80% of all students. But in the nearby village of Villar San Costanzo, there is not a single child of foreign origin in any of the three classes.
The dean is convinced that racism alone does not explain the phenomenon.
“The data suggest that this is an Italian phenomenon, but they also tend to oversimplify reality,” says Vilma Margherita Bertola, dean at one of Dronero’s primary schools. Bertola says that her school has set up a discussion table around the matter, also asking for help from Professor Marco Braghero of the University of Pisa, a specialist in community education pathways and conflict resolution.
But the dean is convinced that racism alone does not explain the phenomenon. “Maybe there are some people with prejudices, but I think the real reasons are others,” she says.
Why is this happening?
Outside the primary school in Pratavecchia, located about two kilometers from Dronero, a group of parents is waiting for their kids to get out of class. Here, a majority of students also have Italian parents. “They say we’re racists, but that is absurd. We are simply looking for a school where our kids can be followed more closely, and where everyone can progress together,” say two mothers from the group.
The schools located in urban centers offer very different teaching models from those located at the peripheries. Those who can afford it, because they receive support from their grandparents, because they can go to school with public transportation, or simply because they are more informed, choose to go to schools offering more participative and innovative teaching methods. Those who can’t, in turn, often make the most convenient choice.
Dronero’s mayor, Mauro Astesano, is trying to come up with a solution to fix this reality. Oftentimes, the kids of foreign parents are Italians themselves, born and raised in Dronero. Only 15 of the students enrolled in Dronero’s primary schools are considered as “newcomers.”
Language immersion
“You cannot put limits on parents’ choices. I always consider limits to be negative. I think we could work more on coordination between schools. We could invest in transportation, in a bus service between schools, so that there is more integration. It’s a cost, but it could be a sound investment. But one thing must be clear: If the 1,300 foreigners living here were to magically disappear, the schools would close, the shops, the factories, and the fruits would stay on trees. Dronero would be poorer without them,” Astesano says.
I have no doubts on this: Multiculturalism is an asset.
Bertola is also convinced that things could be different. “I ask all parents to actively participate in the life of the school. Together we will find a way to make it better for everyone. And a better school is a multicultural one, I have no doubts on this: Multiculturalism is an asset,” she says.
The other day, the parents of a child of Romanian origins brought their complaints before the dean. “How come there are no Italian kids in our school? We want our kid to quickly learn the language, the customs, the way of life,” they said. This is at the basis of the “language immersion” approach, where everyone can learn something from someone with a different story.
