Skip to main content

The dark time

Image of Mario Modesto Mata from the wikipedia
During the dictatorship of Franco, Spain was a land of legal murders and children's torture. The ideological heirs of Franco have still the power and refuse seeing into the criminal responsibility of that time. They even make fun of the people who was killed.

I’m going to write about the teachers of my parents. All that I’m going to explain is concerned with the teachers of my parents and generally the teachers of that time.
They used to use fear to convince the children. By terrorizing them, they got their obedience. During their childhood, those adults had been scared by authoritarian teachers, and they had grown up learning that their world was a wild forest of miserable people, and that only discipline and catholic education could save them from human hell. When Franco took power they discovered themselves as teachers, and they applied what they had learnt according to the ideology of the time. As children they learnt that if they wanted to be fair people, they should obey and accept their grey and boring fate.
Besides, they were slaves of the image as the whole society was. They should take care of the image they showed to people, the image that sorted everybody, and that decided who was honorable and who was a shameful citizen. Teachers taught their pupils to live according the dictatorship of image and prestige.
The main tool of the teachers of my parents was violence. They believed in violence; the violence of the punishments, the violence of their religious ideas about the hell and the devil, the power of the blood. «The words are taught through blood» they used to say.
They screened these cruel ideas upon the minds of the children, and this screening worked not only through what teachers talked to them but what they didn’t tell them either. Silences were as loud as shouts were. Screams were the usual poetry of the imperfect children. Those educators were ill; their minds were as ill as the society where they had grown up were.
Today we can talk about their deep mistakes: their obsessive separation between girls and boys, their insane fear of sexuality and nakedness, their neurotic fight to reach the perfection in the goal of achieving the order in life and things, in the timetibles, in the way that they wanted everyone to dress, in the way they wanted everybody to speak, walk, play, dream, live...

Their pedagogic lines consisted in memorizing more than understanding. It happened that many times not even the educators understood the core of what they taught.
Since 1939, and during decades, most teachers were settled by the government of Franco. They were young adults, eighteen years old sometimes, and they were sent to thousands of towns and villages down the poor and devastated Spain after the civil war. By that time, thousands of old teachers had been killed due to their republican that either the teachers that remained working or the new and young teachers were all keen on the dictatorship, or they tried to seem so at least. There were terrible injustices, like the teacher that was condemned to death for having taught about the reproduction of donkies, or many other teachers who were killed for having been talked to the children about freedom and resistence against the fascism. So teachers who survived were like scared sheep obeying an evil wolf, or maybe evil sheep worshipping an even more evil wolf. Since that time, two or three generations of people have been educated wallowing in the darkness of an evil society, learning to close their mouths, to obey without claiming, to value their survival more than the quality of their life, to distrust freedom or anything related to freedom.
It was a sad time. Nowadays education is much better.


Popular posts from this blog

Nudity is not promiscuity. Naturists are not swingers.

Many people confuse nudity with sexuality; but human sexuality is present in all parts of human body, not only in the covered areas.
In my case, I defend the exercise of a responsible sexuality within the family. I believe in freedom, of course, and everyone can do what he wants, but in my personal life, sexuality belongs to family; it is a matter of my wife and me.  On the other hand, I think that a united family is the best place where children can grow up. I think that love should be present in all human relationships. When I say love, I mean really the love, empathy, will of good for people I love. Feeling is neither the cause nor the essence of love. Feeling is an usual result of love. But love is more than feeling . I can say that I love you  when I want all the good for you, in spite that the good for you doesn't mean a pleasure for me, in spite that the good for you means an effort for me. I bathe naked on the beach, and I sunbathe naked, that's true... but I do not prete…

Order is not enough

Order is not enough.  If the order appears because of the repression...  If there's no freedom, what will the life be like?  Safety, order, uniformity, silence, urban harmony, richness, dominion... What are those goals for... if we are not free to dream, fly,  change the life, overcome all that is established, run away from routine, seek a newer world?  What would our prestige be for if we were'n able to sit on a beach and sing a song to the sunset in a warm summer night? What is our elegant suit for if it denies us the pleasure of feeling the wind, the sand, the sun, the water... in our whole skin?  What is our life for if we don't experience surprise?  It doesn't do any good to grab gold chains if they are heavy and ungrateful.  We are born to be free.

Horror and Hope in Catalonia on October 1 (by Mathew Tree)

The next issue was written by Mathew Tree in his facebook.       He gently allowed me to publish it here.

On the evening of the September 30th, I went on a stroll to my nearest polling station, the Fort Pienc primary school at the far eastern end of Barcelona's Eixample district; the same school which my children had attended from the ages of three to twelve. So I knew quite a lot of the people there, who were putting up signs on the walls supporting democracy and the right to vote and were going to spend the night there, organising activities that were non-referendum-related, as they knew they would get visits from the Catalan police, who had instructions to close any premises in which 'referendum-realted activity' was taking place.  The police had been twice, had been exquisitely polite, took note of the number of people staying overnight and left. The atmosphere inside was bristling with excitement, of a kind I'd seen before (on the major Catalan demonstrations of 201…