✨Let me tell you something✨

When I was a teenager (and there were no mobile phones), we used to go out with our parents, just for the stretch that went from home, in Largo della Corte (I'm talking about my splendid Conversano), but I believe that in every town there was the "spot where we hung out."
Well, once we got there, us girls and boys would hastily greet our parents and rush off, looking for the friend we "knew" we would find there, in a specific spot: it could be a low wall, a bench, or the walls near a popular shop.

We would literally "escape" from our parents (because we were teenagers, not for any other reason) and quicken our pace in a hurry to find our other half (it was only friendship, and usually it was our best friend).
At the meeting point, groups would form that looked like "university classes" due to how numerous they were, made up of girls and boys. And we would stay there, for hours and hours, stuck in place, talking about myriad things, confronting each other eye to eye, sometimes even arguing, but it "started and ended."
The best part was the "first crushes," the first courtships made of glances and sometimes silly jokes, but so very cute 😉

During all that time, the "rounds" would happen: meaning all our parents, in pairs or groups, unlike us, would "stroll" and walk in circles (around the perimeter of the Castle) over and over again. They knew we were there, standing still, amidst crowds of youngsters, sometimes even in darkened corners under the foliage of large night trees. My mom, who has always been curious, would look for me with her gaze at each of her passes and timidly, every single time, she would wave "bye-bye" with a hand held low, parallel to her heart (she would pass 20 times...and 20 times she would wave bye, and as a teenager, this often embarrassed me 🤣)
My dad, on the other hand, who has always been immensely discreet, with a proud and extremely serious air, always looked straight ahead... and there was never a time when his gaze would meet mine. I should preface this by saying that my dad was a wonderful parent, who taught me right from wrong, but he always left the final choice to me (and therefore the responsibility for the act itself). He was always available and kind, fair I would dare to say, and he never, ever let me want for anything. Just as he never, and I mean never, even raised a simple finger to me or my sister. But let's get back to us and the teenage rounds.

Dad's name was Gino (pronounced seriously 😉 GI-NO 🤦🏻‍♀️🤣) and he was always in a jacket and shirt, with that serious air that might distinguish a 90s director. But with friends and family, he was truly the always available person you could really count on for a "solution to your problems." A reassuring type.
All of this, however, instilled "fear" in my scruffy and adorable male friends of the time... (I don't even know why) but, to them, my father "scared them" and without doing anything he somehow "put them in line." And I still remember Andrea, or Emiliano, or Filippo or Giancarlo who, when my parents' round passed, would promptly tell me: "Ta, your father is passing!" And everyone, or almost everyone, would "get in line" to "jokingly mess around" immediately after his passing... and they always greeted him with a "good morning" or "good evening"... and never with a "hello"! In fact, to tell the truth, it was he who then, almost without expression or "familiarity," would reply with a quick and polite "Ciao, ciao + friend's name (abbreviated)."
So it was all "Ciao ciao Andrè" "Ciao ciao Filí" and so on.

What do I mean by all this...
I mean that in adolescence (and beyond), there was never, among us boys and girls, even a single rude gesture, not to mention violent (even verbally), a tug, a bad term, or even just an "unpleasant" word towards us girls. And I asked myself why.

The answer I gave myself is RESPECT.

The respect the boys had for us girls, and especially the respect the boys themselves had for their own and others' parents... because, probably, even if it was a clever tactic (which I really didn't understand at the time), my dad, with his "austere" air and that straight gaze ahead of him... made me understand that "he trusted me" but for my wonderful friends it was still an "implicit warning" that "...woe betide you if something happens, you'll answer to me"... even if it was really an intimidating and sincere bluff, but certainly a healthy one.

My father wasn't my friend. But he's the person I knew I could ALWAYS count on, even after I got married... more than a husband. He was the first person I could call and he would always answer, and save me from any problem. Even if there were almost no problems, because a simple attitude or a glance was enough to "put everyone in line"... and at least try "not to make mistakes."
(Taken from a true story... mine)
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Hello #GiuliaCecchettin, you are the 105th and this year is not over yet. Your misfortune, my angel, is simply being born in a historical period where everyone's parents act as "friends" and don't care what their children do, where they are, who they are with, and what they are doing. There are no rules, there is friendship and no "roles."
Your misfortune, my girl, is that you were intelligent in life, but you found before you a male who doesn't even know where the "M" in Man is placed in the alphabet, simply because no one ever showed it to him.
More than the State understood as a Nation... I would pay attention to what the family unit is today.

Tania Spagnolo