I want to make you an educational utopia. A utopia like children, which will be a spoon, a toy, a powerful and a bookseller. I refer, of course, to a utopia that will climb the trees, like the one that the Basque education system needs today, that in the potxingos it will cover (and what!) age, which will not be frightened of soiling the sludge and which will occasionally be damaged in the broken lands. An educational task in which the playmates find themselves almost anywhere and almost in sufficient numbers in squares, streets, wet areas.

An educational utopia that collects printed tiles and colored glass chunks, Sugus blue wrapping paper, Lotus crushed veneer, chocolate egg a half yellowish inside the surprise, two rough flowers of chicory herb (although they say that at bedtime urinating), gemstones, important things.

That's what we need, a utopia of education. A shared utopia, which we could draw almost entirely. An exquisite utopia, dyed black on white, or perhaps even better, with the bright vivid color of Manley paintings. A utopia painted in mulberry, green and reddish.

In this way, I believe that once we are going to begin to realize the gravity of the need, we will all make visible the hope of what could be, the potrete of what we delay and of what we drive Gutiérrez, photography, photomontage and the negative of what today is not and is not Basque education.

A utopia perhaps in the hope that Alexandra Kollontai fite, around the age of 48, as occurred in 1922. So, a big dream where we'll save the forest by putting the advances in technology for sustainability. Where mutual care, beauty and simplicity, imagination, the division of transsexual work, culture, creativity and encounter will all be. Where with laborious, alienating work, we're going to live in freedom for once. Where to sing, sew, dance to make it our revolution and because it exists. Where the communities, the associations of toilets (sic) (in case of an almost sociable plural, thinking of the Basque “tractor” and “institutionalization”), will prevail. A utopia in which we're going to get excited by looking at the cosmos and laugh the past time with those estrainios, all -- or almost all.

But for example! Because utopia is not going to come into the umbrella of a single law of such a government, even though that law sometimes achieves the broadest consensus (if applause so). Because utopia is done by walking down the streets, ttipi-ttapa, stepping on the ground, crossing the limits, inserting the leg, too. This educational utopia, drawn from below, will open us, unlike anything, if they are not big olms, both small paths, as ideas, intentions, directions, new Casian consensus, for new times, these yes.

In it, singing and doing utopia, we will remember this axiom of equality of Jacques Rancière and convince each other that it is always right who wants to emancipate himself and that the moment of emancipation is always the next. In the end, even with a utopia, if we are not able to love ourselves, let us be able to make dreams about education cease to be secret and, without wasting our time, let us dance the supporters of a new education of a thousand colors once and for all, in hearts, in wetlands and in all the necessary corners.