By Marcela Valente
BUENOS AIRES, Apr 24 2000 (IPS)

A novel magazine written and produced by street children in a workshop on journalism helps residents of the capital of Argentina understand the fears and dreams of the youngsters they see on a daily basis panhandling, offering to clean their windshields or selling trinkets.

The publication, which comes out every two months, is aimed at raising awareness about a harsh social reality among a public that is increasingly mistrustful towards the tough youngsters who often accost them demanding a few pesos, in a country where over one- third of the population is now living below the poverty line.

The idea emerged in 1998 from a journalism workshop offered to street children by a local day-shelter. The publication is aimed at helping readers understand the feelings and problems of street children, who live in a world with which most of the 12 million residents of the greater Buenos Aires are unfamiliar.

Street children form a permanent part of the urban landscape, and city residents have become used to their at-time aggressive requests for money or sales offers in bus and train stations, city squares, at taxi stops, and even at the doors of their houses.

The magazine ‘Chicos de la Calle’ (Street Kids) provides the testimony of sensitive children with tough exteriors who aspire to an education and a job, dream of buying a house for the family that let them go, and feel a deep sadness about the illnesses, drug addiction and all kinds of abuse and mistreatment they suffer.

“I left school this year because I worked all day in the street and at night was too tired to go,” says Leonardo, 13, in an interview published in the magazine.

Jorge, 15, speculates that street kids who take drugs “must feel that that is better than thinking about their future.”

The testimony is mixed with drawings, comic strips or life stories like that of Norma, who tells how she was living on the streets at age 12, by age 15 had a child, a companion and a home, “and now, at 18, because fate willed it thus, I am back on the streets again and I lost everything, even my son.”

The publication also provides columns by guest writers – mainly experts on childhood issues and social exclusion – and even a ‘fotonovela’ – an ongoing story illustrated with photos taken by the children themselves as part of the journalism workshop.

Both the ‘fotonovela’ and comic strips reveal the day-to-day experiences of street children.

One tells the story of a boy who stole flowers to give them to his mother and was caught by the police. His mother scolds him: “you mustn’t steal for this!” and the boy responds “but how else can I give you a present?”

Another shows a boy who uses drugs and in his own way advises his little brother not to do the same.

Among the regular features appears “a small illustrated dictionary of the street,” in which the children explain some of their codes.

For example, ‘buitrear’ (or “vulturing”) means taking something that does not belong to you and ‘cortabeneficio’ (roughly “benefit-cutter”) is someone who does not let you do what you want.

The workshop is one of the services provided by the Centre of Integral Attention to Childhood and Adolescence (CAINA), a day- shelter financed by the Buenos Aires city government that provides activities in sports, theatre, circus, computers and journalism, as well as meals and showers, to some 2,000 children a year.

Emilio Saad, the director of the Centre’s journalism workshop, told IPS that the aim of the magazine was to provide an outlet for children and teenagers living in the streets to express their complaints and social demands, to describe their problems, and to basically communicate their experiences to the readers, and through them to the community at large.

The results are revealing and often moving. The children, with their tough exteriors, show that they have deep feelings towards their families, along with dreams of finding a home and having things that other children have.

“They clearly understand that material goods are highly valued by adults, and are, in general, better taken care of and protected than the children themselves,” sociologist Julieta Pojomovsky, the director of CAINA and the editor of the Street Kids magazine, told IPS.

Adapted to the timeframes of children who are not as disciplined as children living with their families, Saad said the workshop involves four to 12 youngsters, while the magazine is published every two months.

This month it will also be sold at the Buenos Aires book fair, a massive annual cultural event, said Pojomovsky.

Saad commented that “they draw and work on an issue that we suggest, and if they accept it, we record what they have to say and publish that along with their illustrations about the issues.”

She said work with street children can never involve coercion, but must “depend on what they want to do.” The children themselves explain some of the difficulties keeping street kids out of formal schooling.

“They ask you for documents, a permanent address, and they want your mother or father to accompany you, and I don’t have any of those things,” says Jorge, 12.

Walter, 15, says he dropped out of school when his brother was released from the “institute” – an allusion to a home for juvenile delinquents. “I couldn’t keep going to school and living in my house if my brother, who was younger, had gone to live in the streets, so I went with him, to take care of him.”

Laura, 12, explains that the problem with school is that the teachers “get scared.”

“Kids who have homes have a mother who teaches them what you’re not supposed to do, but street kids don’t, so they start smoking or doing any old thing, and the teachers get scared,” she says.

“I went to the streets when I was 7, and I didn’t go to school. At age 9 I was caught stealing from a kiosk, and they took me to San Martin” (an institute for minors).

“I was shut up there for five years, and no one came to see me. I was alone, bah!, with other kids. A year ago they let me out, but I didn’t go back home. I found out my mom died four years ago…” said Carlos, who is all of 14 years old.

The teenagers who look so tough and cold express unconditional love for their mothers, who they practically worship, while blaming themselves for not deserving their attention. The children dream of giving their mothers presents like a house, a car, or a plane ticket to Miami.

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