[...] Due to some sort of gender divide, my father only said a sentence or two about it to me. My mother took on the task of expressing their shared anger. ‘We don’t pay for you to go to school so you can sing the International in the lycée courtyard,’ she shouted at me that evening, adding numerous curses and threats: ‘You’re going to quit school and get a job.’ They couldn’t understand it: here I was with the good fortune to pursue a secondary education, a chance they had never had, and instead of being serious about my studies I was spending my time on all these other things. It left them altogether indignant.