From Nana Marchioro

There’s not much to say that hasn’t been said many times already. But I’ve been thinking I’ve got to say it once more, even if it’ll just fall on deafened ears.

I’m 16, and was born and raised in Brazil, in homes of The Family International. All throughout my childhood I remember happiness, love, a stable education, wonderful friends and teachers, countless outings and excursions, and being attentively cared for, day and night. My parents were and still are the most wonderful people I know and their loving dedication to us children and to their chosen career will always have a lasting effect on me.

Now I have discovered my wonderful life was really a deprivation.

I discovered I was deprived of being a “normal child” because, of course, “normal” twelve-year-olds in our “modern society” don’t climb trees, play sports, and enjoy studying grammar. “Normal” twelve-year-olds in our “modern society” brawl at school, smoke dope and yell at their parents.

I was not a “normal” child, because I was always loved and cared for above and beyond a “normal” child.

I was disciplined, too, and like most kids I felt wickedly cheated of my right to do whatever I pleased, whenever I pleased. This literally meant the world would be a much more dangerous place, leaving flawlessly clear the reason discipline exists at all.

But, no. What complete bull! It’s so clear to me now—and completely logical—that I was deprived and mistreated because, primarily, people have always supported and respected my character as well as my interests and opinion. And logically, an “underprivileged child” raised in a “harmful environment” had a superior education being grades ahead of the average child, had lots of friends, never broke a bone or chipped a tooth, was always fed and sheltered, cared for and listened to.

All my friends were scruffy, deprived and battered, too, because they were raised in the same “harmful’ and “abusive” environment as I. Maybe this is why I’ve never met anyone quite like them, or anything that could ever compare to the love, attention, and fun they always showered me with.

Yes, I was neglected and disadvantaged.

Perhaps I should leave my home and lifestyle, and then advocate the parents of the children I presently teach to “think a bit.” The conclusion they will come to, sensibly, once they unearth the truths that I have, would be to raise their kids “normally.” Because, hell, who wants to be deprived?

They will then dispatch their children to a “normal” public school where the children will be subject to “normal” things like aggression, violence, foul language and drugs.

Or perhaps I should repeat time and again, these things I’ve “discovered”, onto a site where others can tell me how pleased they are with my behavioral improvement, then, together, at long last, we can rid the world of all mistreatment and deprivation.

But then, maybe despite the many mistakes that were doubtlessly made, I should be proud. Proud that I’m not their kind of “normal”. Proud because I had the best, and hey, as far as I know, “normal” isn’t the same as “best.”

Nana Marchioro is a second-generation member of The Family International