PAPA MODESTO ELISEO

    MAMA ASUNCION GRILLO

    MIS MAESTROS Y

    MIS AMIGOS

Mi nombre es Liliana Dora Canteros, nací el último día de 1948, Buenos Aires, Capital de la República Argentina. Me crié en extrema austeridad, mis juguetes eran clavos, maderas, martillo, agujas y telas, lo cual era fascinante porque construía, superando dificultades, aunque rabiaba bastante por la escasez de materiales. Luchaba las cosas con una dosis de inconformismo que servía de motor para encarar otros emprendimientos. Mi niñez y adolescencia transcurrieron en un muy chico departamento con barandas coloniales, dibujaba hasta en las paredes y bailaba por donde podía. Recuerdo momentos importantes, como fracciones de una o varias películas, miradas, gestos, papá contándome narraciones disparatadas en el balcón, con las que lloraba de risa, y mis historias con los gatos que ayudaron a ampliar mi entendimiento.

Mi papá, estudiante de música y dibujante publicitario, descendiente de españoles, de familia de músicos y bailarines clásicos con los que teníamos poco trato, estaban lejos. Él era más que idealista, tierno, solidario, juguetón, con la habilidad de sortear dificultades con humor y creando todo el tiempo, era admirable, aunque padecía cierta incompatibilidad con lo económico, trabajaba todo el tiempo, no tenía vicios, pero no podía administrarse, eso había hervir a mi mamá, sería sólo eso? Es posible que no.

Mi mamá, italiana, de carácter explosivo y dominante, aún cuenta cuando llegaron de Italia, nacieron sus dos hermanos y todavía pequeños, mi abuelo murió. Mi abuela quiso volver a Italia donde tenía su casa, pero los sorprendió una inundación donde perdieron casi todo, no hablaban español, el dinero se estaba terminando, no lograron ayuda, entró en depresión y enloqueció. Mamá, apenas adolescente, tuvo que internar a mi abuela, a sus hermanos los puso en una escuela religiosa, consiguió trabajo y los visitaba los fines de semana. En realidad, la vida le había estrechado los canales del humor y le había agrandado el del miedo y se protegió con valor y responsabilidad, eso marcó toda su vida. Mamá estudiaba de noche, ayudaba a papá en el trabajo, muy realista y casi práctica, (cómo poder hablar sin ser injusta con ellos o conmigo?) peleó con papá durante casi cuarenta años pretendiendo que sea lo que él no era. De chica no entendía de esas cosas, solo sentía circular ciertas "ondas" a mi alrededor, "rebotes", "impactos", "acideces" o "ternuras" que me tallaban o me hacían trastabillar, teñían mis espacios, texturaban mis recuerdos y mucho más: la percepción. Con todo, transmitían valores y reconozco lo voluntariosos trabajadores que fueron siempre. Me enseñaron a observar en la naturaleza lo interesante, lo incógnito, también a rescatar, cuidar, reciclar, valorar y no termino de aprender: Formas de amar y respetar. Pero aparecieron limitaciones: yo quería estudiar piano y violín, determinaron: guitarra. Yo quería estudiar danza, a mamá le pareció indecente. Traté de no cometer éstos errores con mi hijo, pero cometí otros que ya facturó. Qué importantes son los años de niñez y las cosas que van construyendo esa delicada trama de afectos que nos "sorprenden" después... todavía hay quién se desentiende y mira para otro lado.

avanzar

TO  MY SON GEOS

      MY FATHER MODESTO ELISEO

      MY MOTHER ASUNCION GRILLO

      MY TEACHERS AND

      MY FRIENDS.

My name is Liliana Dora Canteros, I was born on the last day of 1948, in Buenos Aires, Capital of Argentina .
I was raised in extreme austerity, my toys were nails, wooden things, hammers, needles and pieces of cloth. All this was fascinating because I could create things overcoming difficulties, although I felt quite annoyed for not having enough materials. I used to struggle to obtain things with a dose of inconformism that helped me as an impulse to start any new enterprise.
I spent my childhood and adolescence in a very small flat with a colonial balcony,l used to draw anywhere, even on the walls and I used to dance wherever I could . I recall important moments like small parts of one or several films , glances, gestures, my father telling me incredible stories on the balcony with which I laughed till I cried , and my stories with cats which helped broaden my understanding capacity.

My father was a student of music and an advertising designer. He was a descendant of Spanish people and belonged to a family of musicians and classical dancers with whom we didn't have much contact as they lived far away from us.
He was a strong idealist, warm, helpful , liked playing , with the ability of avoiding difficulties with a sense of humour, and all the time being creative. He was admirable although he didn't seem to get on very well with money. He worked all day long , had no bad habits, but he couldn't run the house property . This fact made my mother very angry. I wonder whether it was only this thing that made her feel like that. Probably not, I suppose.

My mother, an Italian woman , of a very strong temper and dominant , still tells me about when they had arrived from Italy , that her two brothers were born later and that very soon afterwards my grandfather died . She wanted to go back to Italy where she had her house but they were taken aback by a flood which took almost all their belongings away . They didn't speak Spanish well, their money was running short and they did not receive any help from others. So my grandma went down with depression and went mad . My mother, a young adolescent, had to leave her mother in a mental home and place her brothers in a religious school , then got a job and visited her family at weekends . In fact life had narrowed her sense of humour and at the same time had broadened her sense of fear and she protected herself with courage and responsibility, things that shaped her personality for the rest of her life .
Mother studied in the evening , helped father at work, being always very realistic and quite practical - how could I speak without being unfair to them or to myself ? - she struggled with father for almost forty years wanting him to be what he was not. As a child I didn't understand about these things , I just could feel some waves roar around me, rebounds, impacts, acidity or tenderness that would carve my personality or make me stumble, gave colour to my sensations, texture to my memories and much more than that, they gave me a sense of perception .
All in all, they taught me values and I admit how hard-working they always were.
They taught me to observe nature with its interesting things and with the unknown . They also taught me to rescue the valuable things, to take care , to recycle, to appreciate things and to realize that I never stop learning : ways of loving and respecting.
But then limitations appeared I wanted to study piano and violin , but they decided I should study guitar. I wanted to study dance, which seemed indecent to my mother . I , then , tried not to make these same mistakes with my son, but I made others which he has already blamed me for. I realize how important childhood years are and the things which little by little buil in us that fine net of affections that surprise us later in life... and still exist those who pretend not to be part of it and look somewhere else.

Mis comienzos en la docencia - 1971

My first steps in teaching - 1971

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