“Does the government want to send us parents who don’t speak Italian? Last year, we had 400 people on the waiting list. We don’t have enough teachers. If the government really wants to do this, the only workable solution is to give us additional funding.”

The government’s new education decree also calls for Italian-language instruction for parents who do not speak the language and whose children have learning difficulties. But who will teach them? According to initial statements, the job could fall to the CPIAs, or Provincial Centers for Adult Education.

In the 70s, they were known as the “150-hour” schools, created to educate Italian workers, many of whom had come from southern Italy. Today, their students come from 96 different countries: Morocco, Peru, Romania, Egypt, countries across South America and Bangladesh.

Two-thirds take A1 and A2 Italian courses, essentially basic language and literacy classes. They do so to be able to live in Italy and integrate into society. The remaining 30% study for a middle-school diploma, which is essential for finding a job, enrolling in regional vocational training programs and obtaining a residence permit.

The teachers are state employees, hired by the Education Ministry just like high school teachers. But because these courses are not mandatory and the demand rises every year, the number of teachers has not kept up the pace with enrollment.

As a result, Turin’s four CPIAs had a waiting list of about 2,000 people last year, out of a total enrollment of 16,000. And demand keeps growing.

Piedmont has 12 CPIAs, with 32,000 students enrolled last year. Just three years earlier, in the 2022-23 school year, there were 23,500.

“We are the only level of the school system where there is no proportional relationship between enrollment and the number of teachers,” says Paolo Tazio, Head of CPIA 1 and President of the regional CPIA network. “Demand for our courses has increased over the years but staffing levels have not kept pace. We don’t do any advertising because even word-of-mouth alone brings in more people than we can accommodate.”

His CPIA offers classes in the morning, afternoon and evening, and all are full. The government’s proposal appears unworkable here.

“Some parents may already be studying with us, but if attendance were mandatory, we certainly wouldn’t be able to accommodate everyone — unless the Ministry gives us more teachers and more facilities,” Tazio says.

And to think that 55% of the students are women, many of whom chose to study specifically so they could help their children with schoolwork.

“These aren’t supposed to be schools for foreigners,” says Vice Principal Vanna Tessore. “But because a middle-school diploma is enough to find a job, even though compulsory education extends through the first two years of high school, we end up reaching very few Italians.”

Even the definition of “Italians” can be complicated. Many people from South America, for example, are descendants of Italians who emigrated there and hold Italian citizenship yet come to CPIA to learn their ancestral language from scratch.

“Meanwhile, people who have worked here for years, whose children were born here and attend our schools, can still be undocumented even if they have lived in Italy for a long time. That is the paradox we see,” Tazio says.

At the CPIA’s facility on Via Domodossola on Thursday morning, interviews were conducted at a rate of four people an hour. Each applicant’s level of Italian must be assessed so they can be placed in the appropriate course.

Daniel, a 34-year-old Venezuelan, arrived in Italy in July. He used to work as a software developer and is now determined to learn Italian so he can work in his profession here as well. Because he already knows some Italian, he was placed in an A2 literacy course. His first class is on Monday, Oct. 5.