Spicie Woman Barbara Farina

Spicie Woman Barbara Farina

By Barbara Farina

I think the best way to start this is to tell my story from the time I was born.

I was born in Argentina in 1975, during the military dictatorship where many people were killed and missing due to their ideals or political beliefs. For some, it was just for being a friend or being supportive of the agenda of someone who thought differently than the de facto regime of the moment.

I am the daughter of militant parents. My mother is a social worker and activist in the villages and poorest neighborhoods, teaching reading and writing to all those who could not go to school, after all, she was also a teacher. My mother became a teacher at age 16 (always was and is a genius). My father was a political activist, filmmaker and student of philosophy. Both disagreed with the government. They met at the University, got married and I was born.

Barbara Farina: One badass lady

Barbara Farina: One badass lady

Having parents with strong ideals and beliefs makes it impossible to be left out of the loop on what happens.

Over the years things changed. At the age of two, my parents divorced and my mother walked away from militancy to protect my brother and me. My father continued the fight.

Luckily, democracy returned to my country in the ’80s and a mantle of political tranquility along with it. But not the social inequalities, these continue to this day.

Of the many things I learned from my parents, obviously, one was the fight for social equality and defending the human rights that we all have.

My role in politics had more to do with the equalities of workers, because as a union delegate at one time and being part of the union direction after I fought for the workers’ rights, that was always my focus. Protecting the rights of women in the workplace, and the right of workers to have a decent wage with which to support their families has always been important to me.

Over the years, for health reasons, I had to get away from militancy as this is time consuming and you have to be committed to% it 100.

I married and had two wonderful children and it was then that I understood my mother. I understood why some things you have to walk away from being so involved in. It is sometimes necessary to protect those you love.

I was always very close to my father as I grew up. We traveled and drove the world together. We went to many places including visiting countries in South America, North America, Europe and Africa. We saw beautiful places, met great people and we witnessed many injustices

September 11, 2001 was a day we were going to New York for vacation, as we had done several times. Both my father and I loved NY. That city is like a big tower of Babel where all cultures, races and religions meet in one place. We did not know that  day was going to turn into one of the worst nightmares a person can have.

September 11, 2001 in the morning, we were sleeping when our cell phones and phone of the department started ringing. Everyone in our country was calling us because a plane had crashed into one of the WTC towers. We literally jumped out of bed and started looking all news channels.

That day we were going to the WTC. I had already been there, but my father hadn’t and that was the plan for that day. Fortunately we were asleep. Unfortunately, that was the worst day in the life of a lot of people not only in USA but in the world.

It was impossible to be stranger to the sadness and horror of the moment. That moment that became eternal. The shock was terrible. Lives were lost, families destroyed. The USA was violated and with it all happening, we felt close to this country. The feeling of helplessness, sadness, anger, powerlessness invaded us all equally.

I returned to my country three weeks later impregnated with sensations. I did not want anyone to tell me about what happened, it was obviously impossible. Everyone wanted to have the story in first person. As a journalism student at the time, I dealt with a lot of criticism from my teachers and journalists for not wanting to tell the story the way they wanted it to be told. Compliments did arrive from many others for being true to my convictions to not smudge the memory of all those who did not survive the tragedy.

Sadness is disappearing but the memory is forever etched in my heart.

Was I able to survive this time? Whether physically or emotionally, I survive each day. There are wounds that cost me dearly.

In my life I try to be as positive as possible. It helps my mental and physical health.

Why I’m a spicie woman? I do not know. All I know is that I am a fighter. I never give up and I am a survivor of events that have happened in life.

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