Bouzon’s shocking message: “That was my grandmother – We have to be different, because AEK is different”

This woman (ie his grandmother) crossed the French-Spanish border under the bombs of a future dictator, supported by the church. This woman who was a little girl flew under very bad conditions after fighting in Spain on the side of my grandfather and the citizens to keep freedom and democracy.

This democratically elected freedom was not perfect and it was fragile and the country was poor, but it continued with the hope of a more just society where everyone would have food to eat and learn to develop. To have the means to make life decisions with personal judgment and not out of fear, terror and hunger.

These refugees who are coming by the thousands to Greece and everywhere, we must welcome them and share what we have.

What we have is the right to live with dignity, to think freely. Our society is not perfect, but for those who leave and come here, it is a hope. And without hope there will be nothing left.

I wrote this poem to accompany her to her final destination. To tell what happened to this refugee girl. To tell what happened to us, her children. Today, I believe I have a duty to those refugees who have left. I believe I’m not the only one.

Grandma, Mom…

Two names that place her in our lives and in the intimacy of our relationship with her, but also with her relationship with the world.

Because before anything else, before she became Mrs. Bouzon, that name that made her so respectable, because it was also so respectable for her, that name-inheritance, from allies or from love, we are its patrons today.

Before she was Mrs. Bouzon, Grandma was a Mother. One of those mothers who are tireless in fighting to achieve the impossible.

My grandmother was a pro-life activist. A fighter who taught us not to give up, not to look down, not to let anyone tell us where our place is. To respect others without forgetting that the respect we show to others is also owed to us by others. We learned that we do not negotiate our self-respect, nor our dignity, nor our freedom, nor our values. We have learned that there is a battle that we must never give up. The one that allows them to eat until they are full and drink until they are not thirsty. We learned that life is hard sometimes, but it’s not just that. And that if we train ourselves to think, to speak, to defend ourselves, we will have time to laugh and dance.

We learned that the timing of the effort is important and that life is a celebration that should not be withheld or dismissed. By raising our heads, without hesitation, we affirm for ourselves what our place is and what comfort it should have. We learned that together, all different, but equal, we must build a better world. A world where the smallest and the poorest have the right to fill a place. We learned that yes, in life there is a first rank, but everyone has a right to be in it.

Grandma was a real anarchist, not with the logic and sense of today, but with a philosophical sense. The one that means that social and economic normality is based on voluntary cooperation, by free and conscientious men and women and not on exploitation, imposition, fear and resignation.

It taught us that we were not born to be slaves or instruments of a world we do not control. He taught us that it is up to us to be the architects, the builders of a world in our own shape. He passed on to us the wish to become free and responsible each one individually, and to live happily and proudly.

He taught us values, but above all he taught us how much we are worth. Value that allows us to say: I am who I wanted to be.

I’m where I wanted to be.

But I also remember where I started.

I want to thank her for this great legacy. Which taught me that if I have anything in this world it is not only the power to say YES, but the power to say NO and the even greater power to say WE.