We receive and publish the message of the bishop of Avellino Arturo Aiello for the students:

“The school opens its doors to teachers and pupils, children and young people, adolescents and young people, parents and bars with hot croissants, means of transport and booksellers, Executives and Secretarial staff. The great maneuvers, which began a fortnight ago, have polished stairways and chairs, programs and POFs, teaching units and windows overlooking the garden. Everything is ready and many hearts beat, the pre-established plans will be revolutionized and the “pret a porter” will undergo changes in form and content when the students enter the classroom bringing the scents of summer and their torments, the difficulty in starting over and the unhappiness in returning to a “form” with respect to the accordion schedules of the holidays. The real wealth of the School are the pupils who come to ask questions, to put in crisis our programs that do not include objections, to make teachers nervous who will have difficulty in schooling the class and will see curious eyes or yawns opening cracks in the body of knowledge or knowledge. “With you the Italian school is dead ”I found written in a booklet, where each visitor could write down a word, on a pilgrimage to the cemetery of Barbiana where Don Lorenzo Milani is buried. That sentence made me sad more than the abandonment in which Don Lorenzo’s rectory-school and that cemetery no bigger than a handkerchief lived. The school is not dead, but it rises punctually from every reform (from Croce to Gentile we have seen many) as a religious place (Temple?) In which new and ancient coins are struck which are called … “words”! As in a coin of infinite possibilities, words are the object of the religious contention between pupils and teachers who, embracing or injuring each other, play and transmit the words like us as children the Panini stickers. Pupils come not only to buy or receive words, but they are also producers and innovators of the words that serve to describe and give prominence (concreteness?) To life in all its aspects for teachers and parents, for classmates condemned to “hard-earned papers” and Executives who see from their desk monitors the flow of hundreds of lives passing by and leaving a coded message. The school is not dead if the State dedicates its best energy to it, if the family still bets on it for the sake of the children, if the Church blesses the September opening of that laboratory. The “word” still has the power to evoke, to direct, to tell, to make the past present and anticipate the future, to form and perform lives in the delicate phase of take-off. The “word”, the precious currency of asking and answering, is the real wealth of the school whether it is dialoguing with authors of the past or writing algebraic formulas on the interactive whiteboard, when it “invests” the verse in the classroom of a poet as when discussing the sustainable economy of a Japanese author. Without school, the word risks crumpling, like autumn leaves, and the silence that follows, a harbinger of all violence and incivility, pulverizes temples and institutions, burns libraries and cultures, sickens relationships and knocks down emotions. We are all on the side of the School and we must stand up at the fateful ringing of the first bell, as at the beginning of a sacred celebration, with our hearts beating for the solemnity of the moment, at home or on the street, in the palaces of power or in the Churches. , with the awareness of those who know that if the School reopens we are not yet lost. Even the Bishop, in Piazza Libertà, stands up at the stroke of the first hour in all the schools of the Diocese and blesses the effort of all, beyond any religious feeling, with the awareness that the opening of the School has more value of the minting of the Bank of Italy or the Central Bank of the European Community. Here, as Umberto Saba wrote about talks with his friends, “words light up instead of stars”.