Cmo ensear a ser ciudadanos globales
Translator: Gisela Giardino
Reviewer: Sebastian Betti
As soon as I was born, my grandpa Beto
put a Boca jersey on me.
In my family, we all root for Boca.
My uncles, Aitor, the Dude,
they would tell me glorious stories
about the best football team in Argentina.
Well, actually, in the whole world.
They especially loved telling me
about matches we had won
to our archrival.
And on Sundays, we got together
for a barbecue.
Sometimes my grandmother cooked gnocchi.
The food varied,
but what never changed was that
in the afternoons, we all got together
to listen to the game on the radio.
One day, when I grew up,
my dad took me to the stadium.
The mythical ‘Bombonera’.
Oh, I will never forget!
That’s how my family
would pass on to me
a sense of belonging to a community,
which I later passed on to my children.
We’re from Boca and Boca is our team.
This isn’t much different
from what I lived at school.
From what all schools do
to promote national identity.
We used symbols like
the flag, the anthem,
we would share great stories and tales
about how unique and unrepeatable
our country is.
We have rituals, some national heroes
and even rivals.
No one is born biologically
Japanese, Venezuelan or Mexican.
We need others to approach us
and show us what it’s like
to be a part of,
to feel part of a community
like our nation.
That way, we can think
that patriotism
is the result of a huge effort
made from generation to generation
to keep us together.
To enable this living together
in a territory we call our own
which we have respect for,
and we feel responsible for.
The good news is that
if patriotism is a construction
that we created all together
we might also think that
we can go one step further.
And that’s what I do in my work:
To think about how we can train people
who learn to live together
and collaborate globally.
No one wants to stop loving their homeland
or stop defending it, of course,
but I do think we can rethink
some of the ways
in which we learn to live with others.
Evelin was my student in college.
She’s a ‘porteña’, as we call the people
from the City of Buenos Aires.
She speaks porteño.
She says ‘che’, ‘pibe’, ‘boludo’.
His parents are Korean.
She did her thesis with me about
Korean immigrants in Argentina.
She told me that when she goes to a café
in the city of Buenos Aires,
she sits down, and the waiters usually
speak to her in English.
And they’re surprised when
she replies back in her perfect porteño.
I recently learned also about the story
of María Magdalena Lamadrid.
María Magdalena is the president
of the Africa Vive Foundation,
which is dedicated to making visible
the presence of Afro-descendants
in Argentina.
To make it visible because
popular knowledge
and some of the stories they tell us
wrongly indicate
that in Argentina there are no people
of African origin.
It’s a mistake. It’s not like that.
And something terrible happened
to María Magdalena once.
She arrives at the airport to travel,
She was going to a convention representing
Argentinean Afro-descendants,
I think it was in Panama,
And when she reaches
the airport in Buenos Aires
she is stopped by immigration police
who takes away her passport
and tells her it’s fake.
It seems that to the eyes of these cops
there was no way there could exist
a person like María Magdalena
who is black and Argentinean.
Today it doesn’t matter much
where we live.
We’re in constant contact
with other cultures.
And if I meet someone
from Japan or India,
I’m sure the differences
will call my attention.
But, don’t we also have a lot in common?
There’s a movie, Letters from Iwo Jima,
in which there a scene that
makes me think a lot about this.
I will share it with you,
it goes like this:
There’s a group of Japanese soldiers
who are in a cave, on an island,
defending against a U.S. attack
during the Second World War.
And they have a prisoner.
The prisoner dies
with a piece of paper in his hand.
And right away they start to wonder
if that would be the enemy’s plans.
And they ask one
who knows English to read aloud.
But no, it wasn’t the enemy’s plans.
It was a letter.
A letter from his mother telling him
that she loves him, she misses him,
that she hopes the war will end soon.
And she’d tell him stories about the farm
and the town where they lived.
One by one, as they listen
to the reading,
Japanese soldiers
begin to get on their feet
and take off their helmets to honor him.
That letter was identical
to the letters they received
from their mothers.
That letter turned an enemy
into a fellow man.
And those soldiers couldn’t fight anymore.
Think about how much violence
is generated in the world
because we focus on differences.
In religion, in nationality, skin color.
Humans as a species
face enormous challenges.
The climate crisis,
the global growth
of inequalities, pandemics.
And also the challenge to live together
with those who are different.
A world, a future, awaits for us
plagued by ethical decisions
we will have to take as a species.
And we will only be able to do it properly
if we collaborate.
That’s why I believe it is key
that in schools we go beyond
soccer rivalry.
Beyond the ‘Boca-River’.
Today, education policies
focus a lot on the importance
that students learn
math, language, science.
And that’s okay, of course.
They have to do it.
But it’s not enough.
I think we need a school
that teaches us how to live together
and to collaborate,
with those who are different.
Those who think differently.
And a good way to start doing that
is to start by realizing
that our students are already citizens
who make ethical decisions every day
in a hyper connected world.
I think it would be great
if we could use those experiences
as a starting point
to offer these students,
our students,
a really practical ethical education.
An ethical education
to serve as a guide
for everyday decision-making.
We can start with something
simple and even trivial
like thinking about the clothes we wear.
Why do we choose the clothes we chose?
How are our tastes set up?
Are they really ours?
What do they symbolize and which tribe
they make us belong to?
Then we could ask ourselves about
how these clothes are produced
and how those production ways
interact with global warming
or with the growth of inequalities.
And so our students
could debate and talk
about interdependence in the world.
About how our actions,
even those simple actions
like the clothes we chose to wear,
can have an impact
in people far away,
and in other living beings,
and on Earth as an ecosystem.
And if our actions
have an impact on others
that brings a moral responsibility to it.
We have to suggest in schools
debates about that responsibility.
And we are probably
going to find students
who have very different
and opposed views,
and even very heated debates.
Great!
It would be a spectacular moment
to be able to develop a skill
that I think is key
to live together on a global scale.
The ability to genuinely discuss
with others, with those different to us,
with those who think differently.
Not necessarily to try to convince them.
Neither to necessary agree.
It’s enough for us to make an effort
to try to understand them.
Understand why they think
the way they think.
And why they defend the values
and ideas they advocate for.
Do we really need to all agree
in order to live together?
I don’t think so.
The goal then is not training people
all over the world
to have exactly the same values.
I invite you to think
if we can design an education
that trains people who keep
loving their homeland
and still, see all humans
as their brothers and sisters.
And planet Earth as a shared house
we all have to take care of.
And if it works out, I’m not saying
we would have a conflict-free world.
Of course not.
But maybe we could live together
more harmoniously
not just on a global scale,
but also in our homeland.