Monday, January 31, 2011

Can You Have A Tattoo As A Dental Hygienist

Memoirs of a teacher "subversive", "Heart of Clay" Memoirs of a teacher



The photo that accompanies this article is on the reverse a date: 12/78 School No. 8, Ministro Rivadavia.
The school had returned to work as a teacher of grade after the kidnapping happened on vacation July 77 and seven months of the birth of my second daughter, born just nine months after being released from Pozo.
were difficult times, teachers' disappearances and abductions and conflict with neighboring countries since the genocidal army guys playing war with our soldiers had the luxury of exposing the lives of young people at that time complied with the compulsory military service. Coincidentally
remembering times far from my way through the education system to open a box in which memories of my friends (many of them militants like me) turned up this picture and I was reminded of the tragic moment that we were going to root the conflict between Argentina and Chile in the Beagle Channel.
One after another the names were drawn had become common in our conversations teachers and they had to do with Lennox Island, Picton, Navarino and one after another slid the events that occurred from the Arbitral Award recognizing Chile's sovereignty over the islands.
And I remember how we talked about Ms. Raquel Caballero (the lady who is in the middle) and that being the Director of the school No. 8 at the time we are oriented to convey to students the events that were happening to appease fear of a war that seemed inevitable between our country and the RCA in Chile. How
do to fan the fear of armed confrontation when the media broadcast the closure by the gendarmerie of the border with Chile?
How can students not to be afraid to listen to Jorge Rafael Videla threatening war if Chile did not change its position in the negotiations that were made?
I stared at each and every one of the nine teachers who worked in those days Ministro Rivadavia school and realized I was missing Nelly Secretary who, like Mrs. Rachel knew why I had passed and not only were supportive but were of the few partners that I saw as a subversive or guerrilla band (as was common in those days to tag the teachers who were "sucked" by the soldiers many times in the same school that came in trucks.)
Miss Rachel with his combed hair and clear eyes and his heart of clay.
A heart that adapt to all circumstances and it was shelter and it was wall and was home and was space in which the teachers could speak without fear of being betrayed or censored. Because

Miss Rachel was for us as an angel who watched over each and every one of the teachers under his supervision and that proved not to be afraid of the soldiers and trucks with armed soldiers who often visited the school.
Sometimes I wonder if the school will continue as in the days when white painted green and stood as a beacon guiding the children toward their teachers and their classrooms and their patio and blinds many times we walked down order of Miss Rachel believed that this was the best way to achieve that all of us not concentrate on our tasks.
in November 1984 when Argentina and Chile signed the TREATY OF PEACE AND FRIENDSHIP "I no longer worked at the school.
other destinations had brought me to the classrooms of other schools in the area.
I lived in the moments that will forever be engraved in my memory.
As these memories that came to me and they were trapped forever in the memory of this heart of clay it was my Head of School No. 8, Miss Rachel from the time I was still smiling.
as then.


Ever onward to victory

Sunday, January 30, 2011

1st Anniversary Death Card

Fuser Bar La Junta de Morón

Pio Again with Rock ... Yes, Fuser, "The New Machine Of Rock" and Pio, "Western Power" gather in one night to express the most powerful Western Rock. That's why we hope everyone in Moron ... Who is going to lose?


Click image to enlarge and download.

Greetings - Hard Rock
Fuser


Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Sayings For Butterflies

"subversive": "Jacaranda in bloom."




Jacarandas in bloom


Julio Lopez had disappeared. We had fallen
threats and the prosecution had put us in the door patrol home and Buenos Aires took turns to monitor our home.
At that time I worked as a professor of Human Rights and Citizenship in the Eemnes 2 of Burzaco and by that time despite the fear, despite the attacks, despite harassment by the school principal gave me away to their "superiors" because I believed, because he claimed that I was inventing chased me and threatened my children assaulted with a knife and styling record after record with the complicity of some co-workers who gave evidence of his mendacity, although it had completed the project "Bells for the Memory" with the presence Roberto Rivara Inspector who accompanied me on the project and at that point had been replaced by the inspector an unfortunate light Pompeii Serial liar and complicit in these teachers who lived the disappearance of Julio Lopez as many gorillas can live and rams Argentina populate teaching (or at least the teaching of my town) ...
Despite all these adverse circumstances we organized with mates for a march shouting the name of Julius rumble rumble or make the ears of many deaf and indifferent to what was happening.
And then we met in the Plaza San Martín de Adrogué place of concentration of the march.
A square dressed jacaranda flowers confused celestial heaven and earth and the cry seemed scattered on the tile floor and on the buildings and the station wagon which was passing the Quetros blowing its horn, in adherence to our claim . Only
Adrogué trade had the photo of Julio Lopez and held in the years since then sucedieorn. Then as if
jacarandaes bowed to our quest began to sing:
the east and west, rain and rain, a flower and a blue flower jacaranda ...

And that song from Maria Elena Walsch accompanied us during the march when we were shouting the name of Julius .
The floor of the plaza was covered with flowers and had that light blue lavender of jacaranda blossoms.
So we started to gather the flowers in our hands and pockets of the apron of the teachers who had attended and the many plastic bags they had and as we walked through downtown streets throwing Adrogue air we jacaranda flowers that fell like rain on the asphalt and sky above our heads and banners.
And the east and west of our people began to be populated and the many voices in chorus and sang in July wondered:

the east and west, rain and rain
a flower and a blue flower jacaranda-

And the cops on a motorcycle behind us began to be stained in blue because the bikes were holding flowers like uniforms.
And we were on patrol nearby began to pile jacaranda blossoms on their roofs.
It happened that the people dressed as flowers that afternoon when we pulled into the air while singing flowers falling as celestial swabs. Julio López
never appeared.
And here in this absence that is repeated each year, the blossoms return to the trees of the Plaza and begin to rain from the branches to put on the floor of the stall and fall like snow purple reminds us that despite the time we ask for Julio López

the east and west, rain and rain
a flower and a blue flower jacaranda


Heaven on
path is drawn with foam and tissue paper ...
jacaranda

to victory always