Those are the memories of a little girl growing up in the most racist place in Italy, if not Europe while being raised by traditional parents with an old school mentality.
Old school left-leaning radicals with old school Italian habits. All around the late '80s, when everybody was forgetting previous ideologies and looking from the edge of the old World at all the hopes of justice and equality dissolving in the name of the only civic duty capitalism can conceive: buying things. For the rest of us, only hate is left. The beautiful black girl on the bus, the young mother from Bosnia are only the first memories of a girl who will see much more and much worse growing up. But it's difficult not to remember the eyes that brought us where we are. This book is just a little reminder of how much our suffering is not worthy of the smallest change in our politics. That is the time racism seems to be so wild and spontaneous, the product of a general discontent that our politicians want just humor, all while becoming more and more a fundamental political tool to prevent the masses from thinking, reading, and claiming rights and justice for the sake of unity and solidarity, two things politicians and big capitalists can only fear.
