25 June 1978

25 June 1978

I might have to burn this entry after I’m done writing it. Its “subversive” content will likely be sufficient to “disappear” me, which is what I fear deeply has happened to Fabricio. I haven’t gotten a letter from him in over a month. I don’t know whether to tell my parents, to ask them to contact one of their military friends in Buenos Aires (or Luis or Emile, who are both currently employed at ESMA), to find out what’s happened to him. I want to, but we don’t speak Fabricio’s name in this house, and I don’t want to give my parents reason to be suspicious of my intentions. But, I can’t stand the idea of him being hurt. And I refuse to believe that he is any less Argentine than my parents or anyone who doesn’t outwardly oppose the crooked Junta, just because he has different ideas about what constitutes a successful economy and just society…

Of course, I couldn’t say that out loud (I shouldn’t even be writing it here). Diversity of opinion is forbidden. I’m not allowed to have a mind of my own. And it is no longer my right to have a well-rounded education. Ever since the start of the Process, I haven’t had a single history class, or economics class, or creative writing, or basically anything that has to do with understanding any sort of global context or cultivating personal voice, on account of “sure indoctrination.” And mom and dad do not let me turn in any writing assignment without reading it first, to check for “Marxist language.” Like I would be stupid enough to announce my left-leaning sensibilities, and anyway, I’ve never even had the opportunity to read Marx! Paranoia is rampant.

I’m going to try to continue educating myself, but it hasn’t been easy so far. The libraries are basically empty, the only publications we have around the house are those dumb Para Tís that my mom reads and rereads, and I don’t know who else, besides Fabricio, I can really talk to, or trust. At the very least I will keep making it a point to differentiate between propaganda and information. I’m hoping things will be a little different once I start University in August, but I doubt it; my parents are forcing me live at home. They’re stricter and more unfair than they’ve ever been, even though I am nearly 18, and should certainly be starting my own life.

Well, nationalism is high today, and seems to be mocking me. Our “government” is incapable of handling the economy, addressing class disparities, improving Argentina’s industrial standing, or operating with any kind of code of ethics, but yes, let’s drink and dance in the streets. Let’s keep our flag waving proud. Thank you, World Cup.

I hope I get a letter from Fabricio soon. If I don’t, I will expect the worst.

1 thought on “25 June 1978

  1. ssvolk says:

    As you know, this is a time to keep your head down, at least not to draw any attention to yourself. I hope that Fabricio is OK.

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