Let me take you back to a little time called sophomore year--a time when graduation was distant, I.D.s were fake, and majors were undecided. The end of the Spring Semester was gradually inching toward a close and our academic advisors were flooding our inboxes with threatening messages reminding us that our Declaration of Major forms had to be signed and turned in by the end of the week. Frustrated with the stupidity of having to acquire a signature other than my own to declare my major, I frantically searched for my advisors office hours--only to come to the exasperating realization that, naturally, they consisted of yesterday and tomorrow during all of my classes. This whole choosing a major thing was really putting a damper on my college career. I was 19 years old.

Flash forward to the present--Summer of 2003, Cagli, Italy. Summer vacation is just over the horizon for the students of the Scuola Media and Ms. Catarina's 1st years (equivalent to America's 6th graders) are particularly rambunctious today. As it turns out, their energetic hyperactivity stems from the fact that many of their fellow classmates were released hours ago--the happy benefactors of a teacher's reunion. So despite their religion teacher's laughing claim that this is the "most misbehaving class in all of Cagli," I can't help but give them the benefit of the doubt. I remember what it is like to be their age--and that is what impresses (scares?) me.

Two years from now, as all Italian high schools are major-based, these rowdy children will have already chosen their intended career paths. In fact, when asked, 8 of the 17 students already claim to know where they are planning to go. They are 11 years old. And although their reasoning doesn't always seem very concrete ("because my brother went there," as one student answered), I can't help but marvel at the fact that this is a growing concern in their minds. One boy's bragging claim that he was going to be the next "star player for the Italian Soccer Team" elicits a lot of jeering laughter from his classmates but seems far more the typical 11 year old's response.

And so I can't help but wonder how it is that we, as matured 19 year old college students, struggle to find our niche when these students are forced to do the same 6 years prior. Had I been put in the same situation, I might have ended up on a path to scientific discovery rather than the creative arts I have found so much happiness in today. I give them a lot of credit. But were they ready to make this decision?

During my interview with the 3rd years (8th graders), I thought that maybe, just maybe, they were. In contrast to their younger counterparts, this English Language class was angelic--eyes forward, shoulders straight, hands folded and resting on their desks. Idealistic behavior despite having a substitute teacher. With quiet attention, they calmly answered my questions. A sprinkling of "Si! Si! Si!" accompanies emphatic nods when I break them in, asking them simply if they had made their decisions. A lot of smiles and another general but pronounced answer when I ask what motivated their choices ("Interests. Si, si. Interests.") They respond so matter-of-factly that I can't help but be more than impressed at their apparent confidence. I began to think that maybe these kids were ready. Maybe, in contradiction to a culture that believes in pausa, four course meals, minimal work, and maximum relaxation, this seemingly rushed decision wasn't, in fact, rushed at all.

Or perhaps I've judged too soon. When I ask if any of them wonder if they have made the wrong decision, the sudden silence--broken only by the squeaking of chairs--lasts for an awkward ten seconds before one...two...then three hands timidly rise from the sea of shifting eyes and squirming feet. Four...and five. Academic insecurities abound. My previous thoughts disintegrate into nothingness as I realize one thing--they aren't ready. And just to ensure this as yet unjustified conclusion, I ask my final question. Do you think you are too young to make a decision like this? I am startled slightly as I receive an abrupt, unified, and overly intense "Si! Si!" They almost seem thrilled to have gotten that out--as if it had been a secret they've been wanting desperately to share but have been hiding for years. I can almost feel a collective breath of relief brush my skin--almost.

Still, the fact remains that, whether or not they feel they are age appropriate, they do have to decide. So next year, these soon-to-be 14 year olds will enter into the Scuola Superiore (high school) of their choice. Whether they have chosen Liceo, Clasico, Scientifico, Lingiuistico, or Cagli's own Artistico, the decision has been made. And with wonder and awe, I wish them the best of luck. Click to hear author

Video: MaryEllen Camp

Web Design: Dave Gialanella

Translator: Gabriella Mansi