Beyond Berlusconi's bunga bunga

Its international reputation has taken a pounding and its prime minister Silvio Berlusconi may be the laughing stock of Europe, but Olga Baldassi Pezzoni tells us what life is like for disabled people beneath the sleaze

I was born in Milan in 1951. I am totally blind, as my mother got rubella when she was six months pregnant. The women in my family – my mother, grand-mother, and aunt – were exceptional people, and they understood immediately they should not overprotect me, but rather equip me with all the capabilities I needed to live a life as normal and independent as possible.

Already at about four I developed an interest in languages, and “decided” I wanted to become an interpreter.

I received a basic education at the Milan Institute for the Blind, where I spent nine years. After that, I attended a “normal” language school.

There were no adaptive technologies available then, and all I had was my slate and stylus, and a typewriter with which I typed out homework and tests for my teachers.

It was not easy to find a school that would accept a blind student, but once I started attending both my teachers and classmates were fantastic, and I never felt discriminated or left out.

I graduated with the highest marks in 1970, and in 1971 I got my first job.

After a few years’ work as a secretary in a couple of small companies, I experienced one of the worst periods in my life: two years of unemployment. Looking for a new job was a nightmare. I could write a book with all the stupid excuses my potential employers would come up with to turn me down. I was humiliated in a number of circumstances, but I am too tough to give up.

Italy has a very good employment law for the disabled, at least in theory. Companies with over 15 employees must reserve a quota of positions for disabled persons. However, the fines for non-compliance are so low, that many employers prefer to pay than be bothered with meeting the special needs of a disabled employee.

At a friend’s suggestion, I finally applied to IBM. They had some vacancies in their quota, and would have been happy to take me on. However, due to a misinterpretation of the law, I was told I had no right to such a job, because only blind switchboard operators or physiotherapists could benefit from that special legislation.

I took the Ministry of Labour to court, won the case, and took my job at IBM.

That was in 1979, and IBM had just trained two blind programmers. That experiment opened up a whole new employment opportunity for blind people here.

We used an Optacon electronic aid to read, both from paper and from the screen. The Optacon represented the second main milestone in my independence, after Elvi – my first guide dog – who had come along in 1967, when I was attending language school.

In 1987 I married Marco, and in 1989 our son Alessandro was born. Although I enjoyed my work at IBM quite a lot, I preferred to stay at home and look after Alessandro myself. Now he is at university, and I help some students who have difficulties with languages at school.

Though the Italian legislation on disability is excellent (we have ratified the UN disability treaty; we have anti-discrimination laws for employment; free transport and access of guide dogs to all places open to the public), in recent years we have seen a very negative attitude towards disabled people, especially on the part of our authorities.

The Ministry of Economics, for instance, said last year that the country’s growth is blocked because we have three and a half million disabled people.

Between 2008 and 2011, the budget for social services and independent living was cut by 80% - from over 2.5 billion euros to 545 million, and another cut of about 110 million is envisaged for 2012.

I am not aware of employment opportunities currently available to people with disabilities other than blindness. Although many more blind people have access to higher education, and get degrees in law, philosophy, computer science, education science, languages and other subjects, they then encounter serious difficulties in finding adequate jobs.

A friend of mine, who has a degree in psychology, and is now attending a four-year specialisation school, is struggling to obtain some kind of stable work in the meantime.

It is somewhat easier for teachers, if they can enter a State school.

Quite a number of blind teachers have become schoolmasters, and are greatly appreciated and respected. Even telephone operators are having a tough time, because of automatic responders that replace humans in many offices.

In general, disabled people are not particularly visible within Italian society. We have famous artists like Andrea Bocelli, a few Olympic champions, a couple of MPs, and some mayors and aldermen, but they can be considered exceptions.

As I write, Milan is celebrating the victory of Giuliano Pisapia as mayor. This is a big blow for our prime minister, Silvio Berlusconi. I sincerely hope it is the beginning of the end of his “reign”. This man, with all his trials and scandals, has destroyed the image of Italy all over the world. As a woman, I can only be ashamed of his inadequate behaviour. On the other hand, as a disabled person, it makes me sad to see that the only value that seems to matter in our society these days is physical perfection (natural or the result of plastic surgery). I wish women could be appreciated for their brain as well as their body. Well… as you see, I have a dream!