Lorenzo Milani was born to an intellectual Jewish agnostic family 90 years ago. In 1943, he genuinely converted to Catholicism and was ordained a priest in 1947. Rather than seeking a prestigious career in the Florentine curia, a position he could easily have obtained given his family’s connections, he chose to fulfil his vocation in a Tuscan backwater, San Donato di Calenzano, as an assistant to the parish priest.

Somewhere we have failed. Don Milani would have cursed us

Inspired by the Gospel, Don Milani sought to exalt the dignity of his parishioners, whether believers or not. He immersed himself in the social and economic issues of his people, creating an after-work school for adults.

Here, to alienate his non-Catholic students, he removed the crucifix from the classroom, a decision that was fiercely opposed by conservative parishioners.

His experiences at San Donato were narrated in Esperienze Pastorali, a book where he not merely debunked the myth that depicted Italy as a fundamentally-Christian nation but also criticised the Church’s modus operandi and the preparation and attitude of the clergy. The distribution of this book was stopped by the Holy Office.

Because of his skirmishes with the hierarchy, Don Milani was transferred to the remote parish of Barbiana on the Tuscan mountains. Despite the banishment, he did not allow this place of exile to isolate or demoralise him.

He founded a school that catered for the children of the peasants of the areas, most of them dropouts from mainstream education. Here, he not only taught them the usual subjects (in a very unusual way) but stimulated them to think and engage themselves critically with issues that mainstream education considered to lie beyond school curricula.

The Vietnam war, trade union issues, the exploitation of the Third World by the first and the current state of Italian and international politics were included in the school’s daily syllabus.

Don Milani and his pupils did not limit themselves to discussing such issues. The school adopted a proactive role, making some memorable public interventions like the Letter to the Military Chaplains (1965) wherein the school of Barbiana defended conscientious objection and solemnly proclaimed that obedience, considered as a fundamental virtue in many Catholic circles, may not be a virtue after all.

The letter clearly affirmed that students, soldiers and citizens in general ought to be taught that there are circumstances where to disobey is not only morally permissible but required.

A seminal publication was the letter to an imaginary teacher representing mainstream schools and education: Lettera ad una Professoressa.

Here, among other things, Don Milani and his pupils exposed the class-bias of the educational set-up concealed under trappings of fairness and impartiality, denounced exams and criticised the school system for failing to imbue the democratic ideals that the Italian republic supposedly cherished.

If we consider our educational establishment in relation to Don Milani’s letter, there are aspects of the latter that appear to be dated.

Apparently, the doors of our education are open to anyone, regardless of his class. (I use the word apparently because certain classes and groups are over represented whereas regarding those that are ‘excluded’ there is a predominance of certain groups and classes.)

This notwithstanding, there is one aspect where local education is spectacularly failing. Schools were conceived by Don Milani as sites where students could obtain cultural tools they could then use for their personal development.

In this set-up, the powers that be maintained their status by creating glass barriers that ensured that those who had an interest in changing the socio-political composition of society were excluded from secondary and higher education.

In today’s Malta, the situation seems to be reversed. Larger numbers of students are enrolled in post-secondary education. (Hegemony at times functions by excluding; at others by including.) Yet, rather than education providing them with critical tools required to challenge and question the status quo, most students (with obvious exceptions, some of whom I have been privileged to come across as a teacher) seem to be neutered into conformity.

This was glaringly evident in the last electoral campaign. My job at Junior College brings me in touch with 16-18-year-old students, young adults who should be brimming with energy to change the world. My teaching duties supposedly include fostering their critical and creative potential. The last thing you expect is to have leaders of political parties visiting our institution and, instead of being grilled with pungent questions, are saluted as conquering heroes with hysterical shouts of “Ole Nazzjonalisti”, “Malta tagħna lkoll”, “Joseph” or “Gonzi”.

This stands in sharp contrast to what happens in Europe where it is customary that politicians who visit universities and colleges are given a hard time, primarily by students who share their political ideology. A famous case was that of Luciano Lama, general secretary of the communist-leaning CGIL, who was chased out of La Sapienza University by left-wing students.

Somewhere we have failed. Don Milani would have cursed us.