Pamma e mapà

In a world where everything and the opposite of everything happens, a strange fashion anticipates the first cry of many of the new human babies arriving on Earth, the "gender Reveal Party", a party for the revelation of the gender. Señor or señorita, boy or girl, male or female? Giant cakes and balloons moved by the wind hide the color that will reveal the destiny of those who are still peacefully in the womb unaware of everything, surrounded by friends and relatives while not even their parents know if the sky above them will be tinged with pink or blue.

I try to orient myself between cancel culture, woke ideology and gender theory, in the name of an awakening that wants to erase all categories and finally free all humanity, discovering that supporters and detractors of one or the other thesis each proudly claim not to represent any new revolutionary thought, but to simply describe the natural order of things. I stop quite confused, full of fear of being able to say or even just think the wrong thing, oops, just in case a machine among those surrounding me is reading my mind and recording everything.

I am unsure whether to remove a vowel, add an asterisk, look for the font of a new symbol invented on purpose or directly delete the entire sentence, sure – whatever I do – that I will offend and discriminate someone anyway, when a scream from the other side of the house brings me back to reality: pammaaa, mapààà! He is just a child, still deceived by sleep and the urgency of finding help, whose natural instinct for survival leads him to cry for help, tangling up syllables and sounds, without yet knowing that he belongs to a fluid society where everything changes in a second and every single word could be used against him one day.

It doesn't matter who and it doesn't matter how, he demands a hand that holds his hand so he can continue his peaceful and quiet rest. It is a need for love, care and nurturing that does not take into account agreements, categories and traditions, because take everything away from me, but not my sleep... Once the peace has been restored, I think about how annoyed you are by nicknames and nicknames that are jokingly given to you, about your
face that lights up immensely when you are called by your real name and behind the little hands under which you were hiding a huge smile appears. It is only you and not another boy or girl, made up of the little things that happen every day in a path of growth and evolution that determines your identity.

In this hard time when the sea has closed and the water is raining on our heads, between changes, insertions and new friends arriving, you wake up and prepare for another hard day by chasing away fear, repeating to yourself like a chant the magic formula that brings peace to your little heart: after food comes mommy, after food comes mommy, after food comes mommy. It is your need to hold on to something firm, stable, safe. Because there are an infinite number of things that must be redone from scratch, but also some that must never change.

The important thing is that in the moment of need and at a certain point someone shows up, pamma or mapà as it may be. To turn off sadness and turn on happiness, this is all you need: having someone by your side and knowing that you are truly you.


Marco Grossetti
NP October 2024