Going back to school always comes with nerves. The hallways are filled with new backpacks, reunions with friends, the typical photos in uniform on the first day... it all sounds very nice. But for many families with children with specific educational support needs, September is not just excitement. There is also anxiety, doubts and accumulated fatigue from the past year.
Because every September, in addition to preparing books and uniforms, families have to prepare for something harder: new classrooms, new professionals, new methodologies... and, too often, the uncertainty of whether their children will find the place they deserve in school. Those questions that come without warning torment. And, worst of all, without a clear answer.
It must be said bluntly: inclusion is still a pending issue. In speeches, laws and regulations there is much talk of diversity, but the daily reality of schools shows another side: classes with too many students, lack of resources, teachers who work with the bare minimum... and families who have to demand over and over again what should be guaranteed: the rights of their children. This year can be a new opportunity... or it can be the same as always. We can dare to build a real school for everyone, or we can stumble on the same stone again. An inclusive school is not built with pretty speeches, but with real resources. It is not about our children "adapting" to a rigid system, but about the system changing so as not to leave them out. Every boy and girl, regardless of their condition, deserves a safe, dignified and respected space.
We know that there is a deep weariness among families who need additional support. It seeps into every conversation; I read it daily in the families' WhatsApp group: "another meeting", "another report missing", "another time without an assistant". That weariness does not come from nowhere: it is the endless paperwork, the meetings that seem to solve nothing, the absence of real support and those barriers, visible and invisible, that wear away little by little.
But we also know something else: behind every boy and girl there is a family that does not give up. Families who fight, who become strong, who become the voice of their children. Families who, although they sometimes feel alone, keep going because they know that giving up is not an option. And behind those families there are also professionals, associations and people who truly believe in inclusion: who accompany, guide and walk by their side. Because the school cannot be sustained only by the strength of a few brave families; inclusion is everyone's responsibility.
We cannot continue to understand diversity as a problem. Diversity is a richness. It is the opportunity to learn that we are not all the same and that this makes us better as a society.
To the families who start this year with a heavy heart, I say: you are not alone. I know what it is like to leave a meeting crying with impotence, but I also know what it is like to celebrate progress. There will be hard times, yes, but there will also be achievements, learning and steps forward that will remind us that it is worth continuing to fight.
This year puts us all to the test: families, teachers and administrations, who often fall short of their promises. A school that leaves out a single child is not a complete school. And a society that does not take care of all its children is failing in the most basic way.
Welcome, new year. Here we are, accompanying, learning and demanding that what was promised is fulfilled; that speeches are translated into real resources and that the school is, truly, for everyone.
WE ARE NOT ASKING FOR FAVORS, WE DEMAND THAT RIGHTS ARE FULFILLED.