Schrödinger’s school: closed due to the sweltering heat, open to families

Make a note of the date: it’s all down to 1977, the year in which a law passed in August by the Andreotti III government (with Franco Malfatti as Minister for Education) established that the start of the school year would be moved from the traditional 1 October to a period between 10 and 20 September, with lessons ending between 10 and 30 June. Climatologists assure us that in that summer fifty years ago, in Milan, for example, there was only one day with temperatures exceeding 35°, whereas this now seems to have become the norm we have resigned ourselves to living with; it follows, almost logically, that a petition has been circulating to repeal the infamous Article 11 of Law 517/1977 and return the start of the school year to 1 October – when, in Milan, for example, last year the maximum temperature was 19 degrees and it was drizzling.

In Italy, as is well known, there are two inviolable rules: the first is that, whenever there is a problem on a social, national or global scale, schools are expected to rush to find a solution; the other is that for every petition there is an identical counter-petition, perhaps even with the same signatories. It so happens, therefore, that in the very same context of excessive heat, there are those who nevertheless realise that the Italian school system has the longest summer break (the comparative data on this point vary widely and reach hyperbolic figures, much like the mileage of the cycling races described by Stefano Benni); this situation causes serious hardship for parents, who have nowhere to send their youngest children for three months, and therefore ask the school to remain open beyond the end of term established half a century ago. Summer school should therefore be Schrödinger’s school, simultaneously open and closed, so as to satisfy both the pupils who complain about the heat and the parents who complain that they cannot afford to have their children at home for three months.

Then there are the air-conditioners; which, in fact, aren’t there. Or rather – as Luciano Capone explained very well in the Saturday 5th edition of Il Foglio – an inadequate sum was allocated for air-conditioning in schools, which at best allowed for the air-conditioning of a few classrooms; a sum incomparably lower than that allocated during the Covid pandemic by the Conte government for wheeled desks (which, however, when sent hurtling down the corridor at top speed, can provide the occupant with a fleeting sensation of coolness) and paltry compared to the money squandered on the 110 per cent tax bonus, perhaps to suggest to pupils that they are better off at home, especially if their parents have renovated it – but parents do not want to keep them at home and are trying to offload them onto the state education system. It should also be noted that, whilst the installation of air-conditioning in classrooms has been enthusiastically undertaken by many schools, it is taking place against a backdrop of widespread dilapidation of school buildings. Do you remember Renzi’s famous ‘Buona Scuola’ reform, the only sensible reform of the system in recent times and, as such, opposed by everyone – headteachers, teachers, pupils, parents, trade unions and passers-by? The prevailing rhetoric at the time was that it was a waste to hire new teachers when there was no toilet paper in the toilets. Setting aside that rather unflattering comparison regarding the duties of teaching staff, the fact remains: many schools have undertaken even substantial refurbishments, yet there is still a shortage of toilet paper.

Let alone the ‘influencers’, then. It is worth recalling that the education system had protested vigorously against them during the Fridays for Future movement: between 2018 and 2019, numerous schools had even endorsed the weekly absences of pupils following Greta Thunberg’s example – albeit rather short-sighted – so that they could demonstrate against the use of plastic (which would soon prove rather useful for anti-Covid face masks) and high electricity consumption (read: air-conditioners). Since the rule holds that for every petition there is always a counter-petition, it will be interesting to see how many of those who protested yesterday against other people’s air-conditioners are now protesting in favour of having them installed for themselves, or how many of them stayed away from school on those pleasantly breezy Fridays to halt the climate apocalypse, and now want to keep schools closed for a further three weeks because the climate apocalypse has not been halted by their absence.

Teachers of older pupils also know that a classic winter scene at school involves the school representative going round the classrooms with a portable thermometer to check that the temperature in each room reaches the minimum required for lessons to take place. Heating systems are, in fact, often outdated, whilst draughts never go out of fashion, and, when the cold becomes unbearable, pupils have to go home (much to the delight of their parents, I imagine, who would rather have them anywhere but there). If we are heading towards a future of extreme temperatures – a future that has already begun – postponing the start of term because it is too hot could lead to an automatic extension of the winter holidays because it is too cold, in defiance of the 215 days of teaching stipulated by the regulations.

How can we move forward? No one knows. The impression is that the problem lies further back in the system and that, before ensuring a suitable temperature in every classroom, we need to ask ourselves what we’re actually doing at school, given that we have to sit there sweating or shivering. In this regard, too, two typically Italian rules apply, which are obviously at odds with one another: the first is that what counts most at school is physical attendance – in terms of the number of teaching days, the total number of hours teachers are on duty, the time spent by teachers in the classroom staring into space, and passive acquiescence to tedious monologues passed off as civic education or refresher courses; the other is that this attendance must be as brief as possible, since lessons last only half a day for nine months, and it is not uncommon for schools to remain ghost buildings for hours, days or weeks. It is clear that, if the climate breaks down, so too must the school: for example, by ensuring lessons in air-conditioned classrooms are staggered across different time slots; or by making use of the cooler hours (never mind if they are inconvenient for parents: they must resign themselves to the idea that school is for their children, not for them); making the most of distance learning whenever in-person attendance is not strictly required; tailoring timetables to the actual educational needs of individual pupils rather than to class groups lacking uniformity and coherence; and, as a last resort, taking pupils to have lessons in cool locations appropriate to what is being taught at any given time – such as museums, shopping centres and public gardens.

It should be borne in mind that such proposals are likely to prove electorally counterproductive, whereas merely complaining about the heat and the cold without taking concrete action is often perceived as a more effective strategy (another ‘made in Italy’ pair of contradictory rules: everyone is always complaining about everything; yet anyone who attempts to introduce change is swiftly discredited). However, if the objective is not merely to lose an election but to do so in spectacular fashion, one option would be to propose exploiting a technicality in Article 12 of the well-known Law 517/1977. By changing the start date of the school year, the text also emphasised that ‘school buildings and equipment may be used outside school hours for activities that fulfil the school’s role as a centre for cultural, social and civic development’. Since work and productivity undoubtedly promote culture, society and civilisation, you could propose that private organisations enter into agreements to use school buildings and equipment for events and activities they deem appropriate, in return for funding structural refurbishments for which they would be explicitly credited; air-conditioners work just the same, even when they have a sponsor’s or benefactor’s name written on them. It would constitute an immediate solution to every problem. Yet it will never be adopted.