Today you may not remember clearly the day your first blue scarf was tied around your neck, but your family does, especially your parents. They cried with emotion, first when they looked at you proudly from a distance and then while you held that triangle of blue fabric.
The truth is that you were there, in the morning lineup, lost in the back row or crying while looking for a familiar face in the crowd. Maybe you had to carry the flag or tune out, microphone in hand, in an attempt to sing "even if the world changes color, I am here." But there you were.
Like you and so many other millions of Cubans in your time, this morning the students of the Fabricio Ojeda primary school, in the Camilo Cienfuegos District, in Havana, received the insignia that identifies them as Moncadista Pioneers.
Even looking back from a distance, for those of us who were once those little ones, this moment was always a serious affair. Uniforms had to be spotless, the formation was arranged with military precision—rehearsed repeatedly in the days prior—and slogans and poems had to be recited from memory; reading from a script was simply not an option.
The induction of our young ones into the José Martí Pioneers Organization is a testament to the value Cuba places on its children and the respect they deserve. Perhaps that is why no one found it surprising that Miguel Díaz-Canel Bermúdez—First Secretary of the Party Central Committee and President of the Republic—attended the ceremony and personally tied the neckerchiefs for an entire row of children who, surely, still can hardly believe it happened.
At the ceremony—also attended by Political Bureau members Manuel Marrero Cruz (Prime Minister) and Roberto Morales Ojeda (Secretary of Organization of the Central Committee)—the "Los Zapaticos de Rosa" award was presented to Maricel Gálvez Hernández, Deputy Director of the Mariana Grajales Pioneers Palace in Cerro; Caridad Leonila Pérez Robbio, Principal of the Fabricio Ojeda Elementary School; and Eric Paradella Milian, Provincial Methodologist for the OPJM.
I venture to list these names in this account because—remember—in this country, honors bestowed by children are a serious matter, too.
The morning assembly concluded just as such events do at any Cuban school where neckerchiefs are awarded: with music, hugs, laughter, and tears from parents, aunts and uncles, grandmothers, and siblings. Though this one had a special touch: a few people got to take a photo with the President.
At this point, one must acknowledge the role of the teachers and education workers who make special moments like today’s possible. They are resilient people who, despite the weight of reality, get up every morning to share smiles and educate.
