KNOWING RIGHTS TO OPEN PATHS
By Jéssica Pires and Julia Bruce
This is the "Who Makes Redes” column, a compilation of stories of people who build our organization and make every day what we do best: actions and projects for the residents of Maré. Get to know these stories, trajectories, experiences, and the history of Redes da Maré itself - and how this work and the challenges faced during the pandemic have transformed them.
Twenty-two years ago, Neilde Barcellos (61) arrived at Redes da Maré and witnessed the institution grow and develop. Along with it, Neilde also built her own path, understanding her rights as a citizen and teaching her children, Maria Letícia and Cadu Barcellos, that education is a path to change. Today, Neilde works in the administration of the "Right to Public Security and Access to Justice" sector and always emphasizes, "I'm not leaving here, no one can take me away from here."
"We used oil lamps, many houses didn't have water, but mine did, because my father dug a well. The shanty houses kept growing over time," she recalls. Her father, Nelson, was the first baker in Nova Holanda, and her brother, Nezinho, worked on the construction of a shelter that is now the central building of Redes da Maré.
At the age of 25, Neilde got married and moved to Vila do Pinheiro, where she had her first son, Cadu Barcellos. She lived in the community for 32 years and, ten years later, became pregnant with her second daughter, Maria Letícia. She worked in a clothing factory, a dental office, did deliveries in Copacabana, and even walked the runway for stores and fashion fairs. "Over time, many fashion factories closed their doors, and the work was very complicated. I had no labor rights, couldn't use the restroom whenever I wanted. In another [factory] where I worked, they didn't let me leave when my son broke his arm. It was as if I had been enslaved in those places, unlike here [at Redes da Maré]. Here, I felt welcomed and embraced," she says.
It was Cadu, her eldest son, who introduced her to the Preparatory Course for High School, and that's how she became acquainted with Redes da Maré. From there, Neilde became involved with the organization, starting to work in the course's cafeteria. She also worked as a receptionist, secretary of the central building, was part of the procurement team for the Flavors of Maré project, and served as an administrative assistant and coordinator of the Support sector. Today, she works as an administrative assistant in the "Right to Public Security and Access to Justice" axis.
"When I worked in the cafeteria of the Pre-College Course, Course, many students returned from work hungry, and there were classes called 'Night Owls' that went until midnight, where I served them snacks. Later on, some of them came back already holding Ph.D. degrees, married, etc. That is gratifying for me. They often say, 'Neilde, you're still here!', and she responds: 'I'm not leaving here, and no one can take me away!"
When asked how she sees the work of Redes da Maré, the first thing that comes to her mind is that her children were the first in the family to enter a university. Neilde never demanded that her children work at a young age, as she always prioritized education. "It was very good to come to Redes da Maré because I had no knowledge of our rights. We, favela mothers, didn't know that our children had the right to take courses and engage in other activities. I also discovered what I had to offer," she says, getting emotional.
Maria Letícia, the younger daughter, was also a student in the Preparatory courses for the 6th grade,, High School, and College, and worked as a secretary and later as an event producer at the Maré Arts Center. Her son, Cadu, was a student at the Cia TeatroDança Ivaldo Bertezzo, sbecame a dancer, and had opportunities to travel abroad.. He graduated in Cinema and worked as a director and screenwriter for the film ”Cinco vezes favela – Agora por nós mesmos”, among other projects. He was also very involved with Redes, where he gave lectures in preparatory courses. However, his journey was tragically cut short when he was brutally murdered in November 2020.
"Some days, the longing hurts so much that it's very difficult to explain to someone who has never felt it. I don't want anyone to feel it. Cadu used to say that I was always doing something for others, welcoming them, and many people told me they saw me as a mother. At the moment I lost my son, my house was filled with people, I was so embraced, I felt very supported here," she confides.
