Talk to your kids!

For three months, when upgrading to the release of my latest novel, ChildI meet with journalists, readers and booksellers. In parallel with my little hero’s journey as a child in public assistance, I have received an impressive number of testimonies from people who find out very late (often too late, when the person was dead), that their father, immediate relative or grandfather, or uncle, aunt , had a past as an orphaned, abandoned, deposited child, and I measure the weight of secrecy and the weight of shame, the repercussions of this ordeal on an entire pedigree, when you are. And I tell myself that if…if only these former kids in aid, of Ddass, had been able to speak, and dared to know where they came from and what they went through, that would have been recognition, reciprocity, and relief for all. And today, I want to say to each of us and whatever the past, family, course, to each of us I want to say: Talk to your children!

Talk to your children, tell them where they come from, and tell them that each fate carries its own courage, wounds and nobility. Tell them that we are all immersed in one way or another, that no one is a true hero, not even the one who gets the medal or the award or the vote, that no one is without conflict or confusion, everyone doubts and vacillates, everyone one day or another dances on one foot, He loses his balance, and everyone at some point in their lives looks up at heights and gets dizzy, picks up branches, groans, to the occasional siren calls, to false prophets and to true sages. And from time to time, he also trusts himself, listening to his whispers, intuition and unexpected desires. He throws himself body and soul into the adventure of a lifetime.

Talk to your children, and tell them that they come from somewhere else, that man has always traveled and across borders, in joy or pain, legal or illegal, man moves to save his skin, to find or discover the world, travel and go running, escape, escape, wants And sometimes believe in himself, free, and sometimes it’s time to be dazzled. Tell them that it is the inalienable right of all to be from here and nowhere, far from formal roads and mountains and seas and bridges and dams, tell them that we are all mixed blood, and it is all from successive crossings and wild, uncontrollable, sudden and inward. that’s cool. Tell them that none of us were born by chance but by surprise, and if some are unwanted, revenge must be given. Tell them that each one of them is there to dazzle us, to make us see something else, and that with them, we bet the wonderful difference. Tell them that they were born out of romantic, adventurous, fleeting, brutal, orderly, or unreasonable relationships, but that they exist and that the world is waiting for them.

Tell them we have the right to dance on the sidewalks, sing in the rain, follow our own tune, and our intimate musical comedy. Teach them tales, fables, legends and family legends as well, and tell them it’s not lies, it’s the weft of the fabric of the family, of a group, of a couple, of an ‘alliance’. Be generous! Tell them epics, and journeys of fancy, and stories of bravery and nerves, tell them about books that have changed you, and encounters that have shocked you, and sing to them the songs your father sang to you, and his father before him, and make them listen to them. The music you came from, the stories your dreams were made of, the utopias you never gave up on, everything that impressed you as a child and teen to remember, rediscover the power of glorification.

Then tell them they are beautiful. That you didn’t expect this, that you didn’t expect it, but you were hoping for it. Tell them not to be afraid. Tell them that inconsistency and inversion are not errors, that indecision is not a failure, that it takes everything to make a scientist, loners and gang leaders, leaders and dreamers, resisters and enthusiasts, aquaponists and perfections, meditators, hypersensitive people, action men and women, marathon runners and slow enthusiasts.

Tell them you love them.

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