School dropout: when the family becomes (unknowingly) complicit

School dropout is n't just an educational problem: it's a social emergency. Behind every empty desk lies a story of resignation, often silent, involving not only the student but also—and above all—their family . In many cases, it's the parents themselves, through their unawareness, fragility, or resignation, who encourage school dropout . Not out of malice, but out of emotional ignorance, educational immaturity, and an unresolved existential malaise .

Fragile families, disoriented children

Many parents today experience profound distress: financial, psychological, and relational. Some have a history of academic failure, others feel inadequate to support their children's education. This leads to two opposing but equally damaging attitudes:

• Passive indifference : "If he doesn't want to go to school, so be it. The important thing is that he's well."
• The irresponsible complicity : "Does he have a stomachache? Better if he stays home. I don't want to force him."

In both cases, the message is clear: school is optional. And so, every little inconvenience becomes an excuse to miss school, every difficulty a reason to quit.

Emotional ignorance: the real enemy

Many parents lack the tools to understand the profound value of school. Not only as a place of learning, but as a space for emancipation, growth, and exchange. School is the first social laboratory where we learn to fail, to get back up, and to build an identity.

When a parent has never experienced all this, or has experienced it as trauma, they tend to pass on to their children a distorted idea of ​​education: an obligation, a chore, an enemy.

The Role of School: Between Impotence and Resistance

Teachers know this. Every day, they see students who die, families who don't respond, absences lightly excused. Yet they persist. Because they know that every child who stays represents an opportunity for change. But alone, they aren't enough. We need a strong, sincere, and courageous educational alliance. We need the " good side " of parenting —the aware, present, even if sometimes tired side—to prevail and make its voice heard. To resist the drift of indifference.

School as a generational discontinuity

For many children, school is the only opportunity to break the cycle of cultural poverty, marginalization, and resignation. It is the bridge to a future different from that of their parents. But if the family doesn't understand this, if it doesn't support it, that bridge collapses. And then the risk is that the parents' suffering—unprocessed, untransformed—becomes their children's legacy. A legacy of sacrifice, of aborted dreams, of half-lives.

What can we do (together)

• Educating parents about parenting : meetings, counseling, and awareness programs.
• Making school more welcoming : less bureaucracy, more listening, more flexibility.
• Promoting good practices : telling the stories of those who have made it, even starting from difficult contexts.
• Create local networks : schools, social services, associations, parishes, all together to leave no one behind.

School dropout isn't just the fault of kids. It's a symptom of a deeper malaise, one that starts in families and is reflected in schools. But it's also an opportunity: to rethink education, to rebuild relationships, to give our children—and ourselves—a better future.

IN OTHER WORDS

A frontier school, a courageous principal, and in the background the Parco Verde of Caivano , a difficult suburb north of Naples, amid crime, decay, and the dream of social regeneration. A context suspended between good and evil, where, however, human masterpieces are unexpectedly discovered.

Domenico Iannacone returns to Caivano to meet Eugenia Carfora, principal of the Francesco Morano Institute, which continues its fight against school dropout. Here, dropping out isn't just an educational problem: it's a social emergency. Behind every empty desk lies a story of sacrifice, often silent, that affects not only the student, but also—and above all—their family.

In many cases, it is the parents themselves, through their unawareness, fragility, or resignation, who encourage abandonment. Not out of malice, but out of emotional ignorance, educational immaturity, and unresolved existential distress. Some have experienced academic failure, others feel inadequate in supporting their children. And so, every difficulty becomes a reason to give up, every hardship an excuse to stay home.

Yet, even in this context, school can become a bastion of humanity. The Morano Institute is today a flower in the desert, a welcoming place that doesn't judge, and leaves no one behind. A powerful message of change, it also inspired Emilian entrepreneur Eugenio Gagliardelli. Embracing the principal's visionary project, he hired the newly graduated students at his ceramics company, offering them jobs, housing, and a car. An "Olivettian" model that blends business and social responsibility.

School dropout isn't just the fault of kids. It's a symptom of a deeper malaise, one that starts in families and is reflected in schools. But it's also an opportunity: to rethink education, to rebuild relationships, to give our children—and ourselves—a better future.

Sharing these stories means believing that change is possible. Even where it seems impossible.

School dropout: when education becomes civil resistance

A frontier school, a courageous principal, and in the background the Parco Verde of Caivano, a difficult suburb north of Naples, amid crime, decay, and the dream of social regeneration. A context suspended between good and evil, where, however, "human masterpieces" are unexpectedly discovered. Domenico Iannacone returns to Caivano to meet, after some time, Eugenia Carfora, principal of the Francesco Morano Institute . Her battle against school dropout is not merely educational: it is profoundly social, cultural, and political. Here, where school dropout rates reach extreme levels, the school becomes a bastion of humanity, a barrier against decline, a space for resistance.

Behind every empty desk, a story of renunciation

Dropping out of school is never just an individual choice. Behind every empty desk lies a story of giving up, often silent, involving not only the student but also—and above all—their family. In many cases, it is the parents themselves, through their unawareness, fragility, or resignation, who encourage school dropout. Not out of malice, but rather out of emotional ignorance, educational immaturity, and unresolved existential distress. Some parents have a history of academic failure, others feel inadequate to support their children in their educational journey. This generates opposing but equally damaging attitudes: passive indifference ("If he doesn't want to go to school, never mind") and complicit dereliction of duty ("Does he have a stomachache? Better he stay home"). In both cases, the message is clear: school is optional. And so every small inconvenience becomes an excuse to miss school, every difficulty a reason to quit.

Many parents lack the tools to understand the profound value of school. Not only as a place of learning, but as a space for emancipation, growth, and exchange. School is the first social laboratory where we learn to fail, to get back up, to build an identity. When a parent has never experienced all this—or has experienced it as trauma—they tend to pass on to their children a distorted idea of ​​education: an obligation, a chore, an enemy.

The Morano Institute: A Flower in the Desert

In this scenario, the Francesco Morano Institute stands as a symbol of resistance and rebirth. Eugenia Carfora 's inclusive and tireless vision , the school does not judge , exclude, or abandon. It has become a powerful message of change, so much so that it attracted the attention of Eugenio Gagliardelli , an Emilian entrepreneur who decided to invest in its graduates, offering them jobs, housing, and a car Olivetti-esque model of social enterprise, which blends ethics and development, education and dignity.

For many children, school is the only opportunity to break the cycle of cultural poverty, marginalization, and resignation. It is the bridge to a future different from that of their parents. But if the family doesn't understand this, if it doesn't support it, that bridge collapses. And then the risk is that the parents' suffering—unprocessed, untransformed—becomes their children's legacy. A legacy of sacrifice, of aborted dreams, of half-lives. In short, school as a generational bridge.