We Just Wanted To Be Happy
By Pierluigi Banna - Excerpts from "We Just Wanted to Be Happy - Educating the Heart and Mind in Children and Youth "
Sacro Cuore — Gallarate — Italy — Mach 22, 2024 - Good evening, everyone, let's start. Welcome to the second session of our journey, which is meant to be a journey. Let's pick up from the meeting 15 days ago with Professor Lancini. Today, we’ve invited Don Pierluigi Banna instead. I'll have difficulty calling you Don Pierluigi Banna — Don Pigi, as he is known to us and everyone familiar with him. If I remember correctly, he teaches at the Catholic University, the Venegono Seminary and on the theological faculty. He just turned forty a month ago, yet he brings significant experience working with youth, making him the right person to continue the work we've started. Let's resume, as I was saying, from the insights Professor Lancini offered us 15 days ago. His critique was quite harsh for those of us who were there, describing the fragility of our children — our sons and daughters, our students — but more so, pointing out our fragility as adults.
These past few days, I've been thinking about my little ones. As many of you know, I am the coordinator for elementary education, so I start from the experience I live every day. What I've observed in recent years is an emotional weakness, a fragility in emotional knowledge that distinguishes children's interactions with reality and with themselves. Thus, many children struggle to recognize who they are and what is around them, stemming from a lack of emotional connection.
So, I would like to start with Pigi on this topic because we've titled this session "Educating the Heart and Mind in Children and Youth." Rationally speaking, the hearts of these children and our youth are well-made. They are as God intended, so they are inherently good. The evidence, however, shows that something has already gone wrong by the age of six. So, I would like us to start from here, and then the conversation will go wherever it may lead to help us understand how their hearts are made, just like ours. And if, in your experience, you see that something has happened at this level.
Don Pigi - Good evening, everyone. So, good evening to all. What we're discussing tonight isn't something I'm an expert in, in the sense of having done extensive studies, but it's something we all have experienced personally. It becomes even more pronounced when you see these issues arise in front of young people you care about who are younger than you. We might sometimes overlook issues concerning those younger than us, but a passion, a longing to look after these hearts and treat them appropriately, overwhelms us.
This is our starting point, and we'll have time for discussion.
For me, when this heart that distinguishes all of us expresses itself in the young people we care most about, with questions that might seem strange but then resonate, as I mentioned last time, in our previous meeting, it was said not to be afraid of asking unsettling, disturbing questions to the young people.
I want to start with the fact that often, after a certain age, children begin to ask adults disturbing, uncomfortable questions. Just the other night, a friend who recently lost her father mentioned that her daughter called her, saying she couldn't sleep. "Why can't you sleep?" "Because I miss Grandpa." And the mother says this missing Grandpa is played like a trump card whenever they know they can touch my heart, not just because they miss Grandpa, but because they know I miss my dad, too. And this girl, this child ... And the mother tries to respond by saying, "But Grandpa is in heaven now, and he's alright." And the girl presses on, saying, "But I don't want to grow up. I don't want you to die, Mom!"
These are the disturbing questions that young people ask. How do we respond to these questions? We’re put to the test. We can say that there is certainty in heaven, but we also see that they must undertake a long journey to understand the depth of certain answers we give.
These questions don ’t remove a child's suffering with a simple answer. As I was saying another time with a friend when these questions emerge, whether it's due to the death of a grandparent, because the father leaves home or because something happens that triggers a fundamental question in life, they enter a carousel of uncomfortable questions.
We provide answers, but those answers do ’t completely silence those questions. So, a friend of mine, older in years, went to pick up his daughter from school and practice, but instead, she ran off on foot. So, he follows her in the car, and she says, "What's it all for?" And says, "I don't know, but I do everything. I don't know what I'm doing with my life, what's the point of going to church, praying, practicing."
"What's the point of all this?"
Who hasn't experienced this moment of rebellion with their own children? And to this question, you try to respond. You rightfully try to appease them, offering suggestions to help them navigate through it.
But you realize it begins a journey that won't be concluded with just that conversation.
Indeed, children pose these difficult questions to educators and parents until they become adults
The essence of all these questions might be likened to the one asked by the son in the parable of the prodigal son to his father: “Give me my share of the estate so I may go.” This is a challenging question as if to say, "Enough with all you had to tell me."
"Now, I begin my own journey."
How can the father respond to such a question? Indeed, he gives the inheritance, but he knows that in doing so, he's not answering the son's question. Moreover, that inheritance is at risk of being squandered, as it was, and it won't satisfy the son's inquiry.
To educate means to start recognizing these difficult questions. Not only are they uncomfortable for those experiencing them—because we've all been through it—but a simple, material answer is not enough. It's not like drinking milk, getting a hug, or moving on.
But for educators, perhaps even more so, there's an entire ordeal of issues for which you can't provide an answer. Like when a mother comes to me asking why her son died. you can say a thousand things, but you know that those beautiful and true words won't heal her wound for a lifetime.
So, we need to understand, and I'll make a second point: What is appropriate when facing these questions?
How can we confront these uncomfortable questions that young people pose without resorting to fairy tales in which neither we nor they believe, without pretending to have all the solutions—because we are not their saviors—but without ignoring what is true, human, and the potential for maturity that lies behind these questions?
It seems to me that the first step to re-entering the question you've posed is to recognize our own questions behind these difficult, unsettling questions: differently because we are ’t, we do ’t live with the conditions of today's youth, and we live in a different cultural climate.
Yet, behind them are questions to which you, too, have sought an answer, have found an answer, or are still seeking an answer, but they are the same questions you have.
A professor who visited the seminary a while ago made me understand this concept. She said it's truly a miracle when, in conversation with someone, you manage to connect and make yourself understood. Right now, as I'm speaking and sharing thoughts with you, undoubtedly, thousands of judgments and preconceptions may arise as you listen. But what matters to us is understanding each other and finding common ground.When it happens, this mutual understanding, this connection, is sort of a miracle. Often, we repeat things we already know and speak about things we already agree on.
But when we get to know each other, that is, when I connect with you and discover something new from you, it's a miracle!What has happened? It’s that meeting between your heart behind those questions and my heart behind my questions. But those hearts are made the same.
Here lies the educational challenge. Don Bosco said education is a matter of the heart, but it's not merely sentimental; it's about establishing a relationship where I, completely different from you because I am older, meet you in your truth, and you feel understood by me in my truth.
Thus, you with your culture, and I with mine, heart to heart, as Newman would say, meet.
How is this possible? It's a kind of gift. I was recently reading a novel, a rather challenging one, called "Strangers to Ourselves" by an American Jewish writer, Rachel Aviv, describing the case of a woman with a psychotic condition who experienced a tragic episode. (Strangers to Ourselves: Unsettled Minds and the Stories That Make Us- Amazon)
Due to her psychosis, specifically bipolar disorder, she came to view the entire world as against her, leading her to believe that the only way to save her children from the world was to kill them, a tragic outcome of her psychosis.
So, what does she do? She takes her less-than a-year-old twin babies to a bridge and jumps off. One of the babies dies.
Naturally, she ended up in a psychiatric hospital, treated with a lot of medication and therapy, but there was no way to break her out of this loop where she thought she had done the right thing.
A terrible illness.
However, one day, an older white man, a war veteran, visited her. It's important to note his age and background because he said to her, "I am the one who saw a woman throwing herself from the bridge ten years ago. I went down, jumped into the water, and rescued you. I felt a body that was dead, pulled the other one out, and brought it to shore. I was the one who saved your child and you." He continued, "I'm not here to blame you for anything but to thank you.
Returning from the war, I felt completely useless. I had thought about that bridge many times, considering jumping myself. But that day, when I saw someone jump, I went down to save you. And in doing so, I found my purpose. I just wanted to say thank you because that day was my baptism, as he told his pastor – he is a Christian.
This encounter was the turning point in the woman's therapeutic journey. Miraculously, she found someone who managed to reach her heart unexpectedly in a way no one could have planned. A white man tells her, "Not all of us whites hate you blacks, but you saved me."
That's when her heart was touched.
So, we should ask ourselves, "What can touch the hearts of those young people?" Through actions that might sometimes seem completely disorderly, it's only a heart, our heart, that meets them on their level—not in the sense of justifying their mistakes or demeaning ourselves.
But in the way Christ did for us, lowering Himself to our level, becoming human like us, and only then was He able to touch people's hearts.
Let me share another example to make this more relatable. If I don't share a specific incident, it might be hard to understand. It's a story that sticks with me; my friend always tells me to share it everywhere.
He has two young children and was struck by how much his children resemble him. For instance, his daughter was anxious about a dance recital, questioning, "Performance anxiety at 5 years old?" He thought that was something only he experienced at work or with exams. And then his older son, who is a bit dyslexic, couldn't achieve honors and was upset about it. "See, they're just like us," he wondered. Is it my fault?"
The most beautiful part was when he went to the teacher to discuss it, somewhat pleading, "Can't you just give him the honors once in a while? Thinking of parents, I was dyslexic too." The teacher responded, "No, he'll have to deal with this limitation in life. But if I may offer a suggestion, when you return from trips, your son is overjoyed. The anxiety over honors disappears as he shares how wonderful it was that Dad brought him a gift. So, maybe focus more on being with your son." And my friend thought, "This teacher is causing anxiety for both my son and me. Now I get how good these teachers are." (laugh)
I told my friend: "No, this teacher is very wise." I told him that it might be a bit anxiety-inducing, but she's very smart because she gave you the key — that which alleviates your son's anxiety is finding a father, not achieving a result. The heart doesn't need praise; the heart doesn't need to excel in a dance recital.
That question is how the heart expresses itself, but the heart needs to be loved completely, find justice greater than this world, and have a hope of salvation. Your presence communicates all this to your son, and something that has reached his heart more profoundly than any praise communicates all this to him.
Well, the question is for you, for me: who is a father as he is to your son? Who is that presence, that reality that makes you feel loved and saved, even before what you're capable of doing? Understand that only if we find this in our own lives,
Where is this level? You can dare to challenge the heart of another and not stop at their superficial inquiry. You can lower yourself to the level of the other's heart or delve deeper into the other's heart only when you find that level within yourself. For this reason, the first task of education is this familiarity and tenderness with one's own heart. The theme is educating children and youth about the heart and mind.
First of all, perhaps it requires educating our own heart to understand how, in the face of this tide of performances, deadlines, feelings, and emotions that overwhelm our lives, and in the end, everything seems the same, this heart can emerge and come to light. Moving onto the second part... What does it mean to meet at the level of this heart? And here we begin the point of education because once you reach this level, we are only at the beginning of the game. For me, the most interesting aspect starts now.
I'll illustrate it with an example because first, we give it, and then it's understood: Two brothers go to Jesus. It's not a joke, not just an episode. It's written in the Gospel of Luke, chapter 13. Two brothers, perhaps as you all remember, go to Jesus and argue, as often happens between brothers, over an inheritance.
So, the brother says, "Now I'm taking you to Jesus, and I'll prove I'm right." As often happens, someone says, "Let's go to that person; they'll sort things out for us." And Jesus does sort out the situation in a way that none of us would use to resolve issues among our children or families. He tells them, "Even if one has plenty, his life does not depend on what he possesses."
It's written in the Gospel. He says, "Alright, you want your whole share of the inheritance, but will your life be happy? Does your life depend on this? And if you lose a brother over a piece of inheritance, which is better—the inheritance or the brother? What does your life depend on?" In essence, Jesus is inviting us to consider, "Do you remember this heart we're talking about? What satisfies it more—the inheritance, your justifications, or a brother?"
I find reading the entire Gospel interesting, and I notice how Jesus consistently provokes comparisons using precise terms. That is, he judges between what his heart truly wants and the decision he must make.
He says, "You want the inheritance? Take the inheritance!" He tells the prodigal son.
But then we'll see what satisfies your hunger — neither the inheritance, nor the prostitutes, nor the carob pods that the pigs eat.
It's about igniting in the person asking you that criterion by which to compare everything.
Let me give a very simple example … because otherwise, we won’t understand … Another friend of mine told me that, now that I think of it, I always start with examples involving kids, and now all my examples are about children. Yes, yes, yes, as one grows, he told me that one day, his wife assigned him the task of bathing the kids.
So, there's the first little girl who needs her bath, and the boy is left outside the door to play by himself, the slightly older one. With this newfound sense of “fatherly duty,” he feels capable of giving the bath and begins to notice all the water splashing. The boy comes over, enters, sees the water and things, and splashes too. And the father says, "No, no, absolutely not!" repeatedly saying no.
At that point, he thinks, “Well, I can keep saying no, and they won’t understand because, for them, the most important thing right now is being with Dad and the water, which is the best.”
What’s more beautiful for me is that the thing that satisfies me the most right now is playing with the kids! So, let’s do a naval battle! (laugh)General chaos ensues; the mom might not have been thrilled, but he said he cleaned everything up himself! (laugh)I assure you… So, dads, don’t use this episode as a pretext to do the same…
We must make this comparison, whether we’re issuing a challenge, setting a rule, or making a proposal, to determine the criterion and what’s at stake. And to decide when it's truly worth it to take on such a challenge, first and foremost to us. And I see that this is spectacular! Because at the heart of every challenge you issue, you must do all the work we talked about earlier: reconnect, reach out to the other and your own hearts that are in conversation.
At this level, start putting down a challenge that consists of three elements. But to reach your heart with the other's heart, there's work to be done, as I said before, we must not take it for granted.
In a lecture at the Catholic University here, I see a student of mine, and I always say, "Surely among you, there are those who believe, those who don't, and those who couldn't care less, right?" And all say “yes.”
But by what criteria did you come to this choice? Silence!
You see, in our society, in the world of social media, you're quick to give an answer like artificial intelligence, but if I ask you by what criteria you made that decision…
So, the first major task — excuse this digression — is the criteria. It’s the heart you, your child and your student at school share identically. The challenge we pose to see what measures up to this heart consists of three elements, and then we'll conclude…
The first of these three elements is the “background of the challenge.”
The background of the challenge is something only an adult can ensure. What does the background of the challenge or the playing field mean, so to speak?
Often, when a young person comes to me saying they're going through a terrible time, that they're depressed, and so on, I react with concern but then gently probe. I ask, "When was the last time you were happy?"
"Eh… when was that?" "Six years ago?" "No, not six years ago." "Two months ago?" "But that's very recent; two months ago was not long." "Tell me, what was so wonderful two months ago?" They started telling me about when someone gave them a gift, said something meaningful, and managed to touch a true part of them to lower their guard.
And I say, "Go on, what struck you about that?"
See? Then you know what is beautiful, good, and true. Now, you have to see if something measures up not to an experience that has to come into your life but to an experience already there in your life's background.
You must delve deeper into it now that we've turned on the lights to recognize it.
This is crucial because we, perhaps as part of pushing adulthood onto kids, often impose criteria on them that come from our experiences or our expectations of them. So, we say, "You'll be happy when you have this! When you do as I did! Or maybe as I always wanted to but never did…" Instead, you will be happy as you've already been because someone has promised you happiness; otherwise, you wouldn't expect it.
We must first look at those times when you've already been what you can be.
The fundamental task of an adult, which is something we do very little, is this work of memory, not as nostalgia or mere recollection, but as the depth of the present for the child or teenager because, for them, there is only “the now.”
Unfortunately, for many adults, the wisdom of adulthood is only in “the now”.
When witnessing a young person graduate, an adult may feel more moved than the graduate themselves because, in that young person, they see the child who struggled, the child who was born, then baptized—they see an entire history and are moved by it.
We have the ability, through our maturity, to call attention to this history and say, “Look, there is something in your past/history that matters.”
Naturally, an adult capable of viewing another's history in such a way—it seems obvious but is worth mentioning—is not alone in front of the young person. This is because a teacher doesn't only recall what the student has done in class. What did you do at school, on vacation with your parents? What did you eat last night? When were you happy? By having the young person share their life, they can use these stories to propel them in comparison with the life that awaits.
An adult who can provide this backdrop is not only ever-present but is tied to a partnership with the parents, the community, and often to their own friendships that help them see more deeply.
A lone adult only worries about themselves, wondering, "What if this young person now thinks poorly of me? What if I lose this young person’s trust?"
No, an adult who stands firm to show the backdrop together, even if the young person doesn't understand. "Go ahead, squander everything. I am here with my servants, your brother, and the entire farm, keeping the land for you."
Understand that the adult who provides this “background” is not alone. If they were alone, they wouldn't be able to see the young person deeply because they would only see “their view of themselves”. The young person looks at you, but you and others look at him “beyond” the young person
You see their history, but we might return to this.
The second element to challenge, in addition to retrieving from the young person’s history, is a challenge, and it might seem I'm not saying it, but it’s to set a rule, the essence of rules! The purpose of a rule is ’t a threat, but as Cornaggia, whom I know you've hosted, said, it's to give an identity; otherwise, you're telling the young person, "Look, you're free to choose anything you want."
Choose a yogurt and see how, sometimes, in certain supermarkets filled with 150 yogurts, you wonder, "Where do I start?" When women give men the shopping list... "Get detergent!" Which one? "Give me a rule, give me a direction."
But we don’t usually present rules to young people in this way; we propose to them, "Do this because I said so; do it because the outside world is harsh."
Instead: “No, do it because otherwise, you won't discover”.
Like the rule in mathematics, the result won't come out if you don’t perform this operation. If you don’t wear your glasses, you won’t see.
So, a rule is a tool for the journey.
It's like saying, "Look, if in a month, that girl you claim is the love of your life doesn't answer your phone calls, that's a sign. It's a rule; you can’t ignore it." Consequently, a rule is ’t a threat but a tool to direct your journey.
Think of presenting it as a rule of the game because without it, the game doesn't work, and your heart doesn't recognize the truth. It gets lost.
I always use these examples for clarity, but when a young man or woman comes to me saying they feel called to dedicate their life to God, I always set a rule: "Don’t tell anyone for a month." "To no one?" "Yes, because imagine you go to your ex-girlfriend, and you say, 'You know, I might...' and she starts giving her opinion. You go to your parents, and they give you theirs. You go to the parish priest, and he gives his. In the end, you are full of voices, so full that you can't hear the voice of God."
However, the rule to hear God's voice is to be silent because God's voice is quieter but deeper than all other voices.
If you get scattered on the surface, you won't hear it. So, be silent, not as an imposition, but as a rule of the game; otherwise, you won't hear God. And you'll always say, "That girl told me I was really good to be a priest, but was it because she didn't like me or was it God speaking through her?"
Ah, you should ’t have told her! Do you understand the rules of the game? The rule is necessary so that this heart can listen to what corresponds most.
And the last point I find the most interesting is the challenge to freedom.
That's why Jesus said,"I won't tell you who should receive the inheritance. I'm giving you this rule. But what does your life depend on, even if you become rich?"
I present to you a criterion that taps into your experience. I ask what truly has made your life happy, and now you will tell me.
You will decide whether fighting with your brother over the inheritance and taking him to court will make you happier or less happy. It is up to you to reconcile the happiness or the unhappiness that your choice brings.
In my view, this challenge is not for the foolish. After I've explained the rules of the game to you, after I've given you the criterion by which to judge, after I've reminded you of the memories along which to navigate and where I await you, it's no small thing to challenge freedom, knowing that one's own freedom can potentially cause great harm to oneself and to others.
First, because I am always here waiting for you and others. Remember the background. I am always here waiting to assist you in seeing what has made you happiest and why and what has not made you happiest and why.
The challenge of freedom is particularly intriguing because it implicitly tells the young person that they are not merely the right or wrong choices they make; they are not the outcome of their actions, as many today believe. For this reason, there's no emotional depth because people think the other is just their behavior, without any depth.
You are what you will discover, even through your mistakes. Those who challenge freedom convey a high regard for the other because they say, "I don’t know whether I would do well or badly, you might even err, but I know that if you want to learn with this criterion, you will certainly grow; you will become more than what you are."
The child who sees themselves already grown in the adult’s gaze—where the adult says, "Take a risk because you will grow, you will become great through this"—feels loved like never before.
The problem isn't that we lack the courage for freedom; the problem is that we fear freedom because we are not certain of the greatness that awaits the young, even by their mistakes. We do not have confidence in their destiny!
Instead: “You are not just what you will do; you are not just what you are or what you do. You are much more; you are what you will grow into, what destiny will make of you.”
This allows us to educate the heart, to draw it out of the thicket of questions and to compare it with all of reality.
Question — Many questions arise, especially regarding the last point, which personally touches me closely as a father and educator. The one that comes to mind now is, what supports an adult in this position? Once again, the issue lies with the adult, with the adult's self-concept and understanding of this promised good. What is needed? What must happen for an adult to have this certainty? It doesn't end or resolve in a single moment; it's something that happens day by day.
Pigi—Well, I was saying a bit hurriedly in the episode about my friend with his anxious son and daughter, but what allows one to stay in the background and keep on challenging continuously is that the adult lets themselves be provoked by the child at this heart level.
But what allows one to be provoked at this heart level? It’s that the adult continues to be generative. After all, this was Jesus's life. What always allowed him to go to the heart of the people?
It's the fact that his own heart had no secrets from the Father. He lived this relationship of continuous generation from the Father. Therefore, everything he experienced was confronted with the awareness of the Father’s presence.
Consider how we might come close to this perception when we’re in love…
At the beginning … of every experience we have, we can't fully savor it without thinking, "She’s here" or "He’s here." And this isn't a distracting thought but one that allows us to enjoy things more deeply and go to the heart of the matter. This is the experience of a generation that some of us have lived at a spiritual level, which is even more profound than a carnal generation. When one finds a father who continues to generate within you even when he is no longer physically present, you react in ways that come from that story, that relationship.
You say, "I see why my father did this with me," and you are moved. Only this ongoing generation allows such an open gaze toward others, but not all... you see…
are able to generate so much at 50, 60, and 70 years old. Hence, Nicodemus asks Jesus, in the third chapter of John's Gospel, "But when one is old and thinks they know everything about life, how can one be like you, Jesus?"
And Jesus says, "Don’t worry, I have “something called the Holy Spirit” that can regenerate you even in old age. But you, Nicodemus, are a bit hard of hearing on this point," Jesus says.
"Yes, then he doesn't understand so much. It is possible to experience this regeneration, even at 70-80 years old."
Unrevised translation by the author - Sacro Cuore, Gallarate, IT - 03.22.2024
