5 Examples of Monologue on Children's Rights

An monologue about the children's rights It is a speech in which a single participant talks with himself or with an absent interlocutor to reflect on the laws that are necessary for the protection of children.

The monologue it is directed towards itself, but it is also addressed to the readers or the audience. Through this type of speech, information is obtained about the feelings and thoughts of the character that executes it, and allows you to connect with your psychology and way of seeing the world in a more authentic and uninhibited.

Monologues can be found in many literary genres, such as poetry,​ tale, test, theater plays,​ newspaper article, novel. It differs from dialogue, because in this communication occurs between two or more people.

According to the work of which it is a part and the expressive intentions, there are three types of monologues:

Examples of monologue on children's rights

1. “Rights Rights”, by Hugo Midón (2004). In this song from the play crooked rights, the character refers to the right to equality that children have, regardless of social or ethnic origin, language, religion, opinions or nationality. He has to do with article 2 of the International Convention on the Rights of the Child.
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I
We look at the same moon
We look for the same love
we have the same laugh
We suffer the same cough

They give us the same vaccines
For the same measles
We speak the same language
with the same voice

Chorus
I'm not better than anyone
And no one is better than me
That's why I have the same
Rights that you have

II
We sing the same anthem
with the same heart
We have the same laws
the same constitution

We walk the same earth
we have the same sun
We pierce the same potato
with the same fork

1. Extract from The child, by Jules Valles (1989). In this novel, the protagonist Jacques Vingtras (whose story is a reflection of the author's life) reflects on the right of children to be protected against abuse (article 19 of the International Convention on the Rights of the Child), after having himself been a victim of this during his childhood and part of the adolescence.

I don't have a complaint to make. I don't even have a chipped marble on my conscience. Once my father gave me thirty cents to buy a notebook that cost twenty-nine. I kept the penny. This was my only slip. (…) If I went to Paris, again! Coming out of prison, I'd shake hands anyway. (…) And good. I will do my time here, and I will go to Paris afterwards, and when I am there, I will not hide that I have been in prison, I
I'll scream it! I will defend the RIGHTS OF THE CHILD, like other HUMAN RIGHTS.

I will ask if parents have freedom of life and death over the body and soul of their child; if Mr. Vingtras has the right to martyr me for having been afraid of a miserable job (…). Paris! Oh I love her! I glimpse the printing press and the newspaper, the freedom to defend oneself, and the sympathy for the rebels. The idea of ​​Paris saved me from the rope that day.

1. Excerpt from “The rights of the globalized child”, by Susana Dalle Mura (2011). In this article, the author reflects on the new problems that are attacking the rights of children in the era of globalization.

(...) Everything that has been done to date is insufficient and mutilating for the adequate protection of children in a globalized society, since new problems linked to it are appearing. It would be necessary to visualize the current problems of this age group with a specific planning in terms of public policies, contemplating the current and future situations of the same.

(...) Today more than ever we must protect childhood in all its forms and latitudes, recognizing in the reality of the facts its rights: to health, to education, to housing, to a family, to a nationality, to identity, not to work at ages early. All rights violated both in the international community and in our country and in the province.

(...) It is men and things that we must change, and not laws. We have declarations, conventions, protocols and laws at the international, national and provincial levels. However, values ​​and civic awareness are lacking to change reality. Everyone talks about change so that nothing changes or changes but only in the norms and not in reality. In policies for children we need more answers and less talk. Greater efficiency and commitment of society as a whole in the use of available resources and better preparation to face the daily problems of children and adolescents. It is clear that children do not give their opinion or vote. Is that why they are permanently marginalized in social priorities?

Childhood is the future of a country and, without health and education, subjected to the scourges of early child labor, human trafficking, drug, delinquency, poverty, malnutrition, violence, hopelessness and lack of family and social values, does not have a future worthy.

A protected childhood, in all its breadth and necessity, will be able to flourish and bear fruitful fruit for the community where it develops. Argentina wake up!

1. “Who named the moon”, by Mirta Goldberg (1994). In this poem belonging to the book New Tailwind I, the poetic subject reflects on the right to have a name and a nationality (article 7 of the International Convention on the Rights of the Child).

Who named the moon?
Could it have been the lagoon,
that from seeing her so much at night
he decided to call her moon?

Who named the elephant?
Could it have been the watchman,
a day that I was walking very campy?

Who named the roses?
Who names things?

I think about it every day.
Is there a man named Name-caller
who gets the names out of the Nombrería?

Or did the sand alone decide to call itself sand
and the sea just decided to call itself sea?

As will be?
(Lucky me
he named me
my mom.)

1. Excerpt from “Look and see”, by Sergio Kern (1997). In this story, the narrator reflects on the right to education of disabled children, and refers to article 23 of the International Convention on the Rights of the Child.

III
Now I am going to school and it rains all the time. And it seems that the drops explode like Christmas firecrackers in the plastic pilot that my dad put on me.
Today the one who makes books will come and I think he's going to get wet if he doesn't have a pilot like mine.
My dad told me that my pilot is yellow plastic. And he was telling me about many
things that are yellow. The bananas are yellow. Ripe lemons are yellow. There are yellow plums. The roof of taxis is yellow (...).

v
They all fell silent. It seems that the man who makes books came in. He told us what his name is and started talking about him when he was a kid. It seems that his father also made books.
Now he begins to tell how he sees things. How does he look at them and then draw them. He talks about the colors that things have after the rain. It already seemed to me that something like that had to happen after the rain. Because everything is freshly washed. It is logical!
He is now talking about the color things have when they rust. I'm going to ask my dad why things rust.
Now he says that he is going to read us some stories. But what are stories that he did not write. He says that he is going to read us stories that he liked a lot (...).

7th
He now finished reading the stories and tells us that he is going to draw us on the blackboard so that we can see how he draws. (I think it was time for a good time for him to show what he does.) And he tells us to start drawing ourselves while he draws his drawing. Well, it seems that the boys brought everything to draw. They had already warned us about that, so I also brought mine.

viii
(...) The man who makes books told us that we could draw whatever we wanted and that it didn't have to be from the stories he had read. That we do anything, whatever we like.
But I am going to model in clay the characters from the story about the monsters that go to school that he read to us. Because he made me laugh.
(…) Then I start to make the Mummy and it's re-easy because she has no clothes or cape. Then I do Dracula but I can't find the fangs. I don't remember if I already did or not. And in the end I return to Frankenstein. He already made his head with screws in his ears. I put his legs up and lay him down next to the Mummy and Dracula who are also lying down. Now I'm kneading her little arms. I already put one on him and he was perfect. I'm finally with the other little arm. There is no noise to chalk. The one who makes books stopped drawing on the blackboard and says that he is going to come see what we did.

IX
It seems that it comes directly to our table. He advances chatting with another man who brings him here. The other gentleman tells him: "Look at what this little blind girl did based on what you talked about and read."
(I am the blind one.) But I don't like being called that. If they call me blind, that's fine. My dad says that you have to call things by his name and that's it.
The man who makes books was speechless, it seems. Then I hear the other man tell him: “By the way, we didn't tell you that there were blind people among the children.
Because if not, you would not have talked about what you talked about or drawn what you drew.” And he begins to explain that it is a pilot plan (like my yellow pilot?) so that those who
we are blind let's be more together with the kids who are not.
Chocolate for the news. My dad had explained everything to me.
But the one who makes books no longer listens to him and he asks me what my name is.
–Ximena –I say, and add –Ximena with “X”.
And then the one who makes books starts talking to me about everything with “x”, and I burst out laughing and he does too and I teach her too.
Then the lord of the books starts looking at the Mummy and Dracula and tells me that he loves them and I laugh more.
And he tells me that the Frankenstein I did is incredible. And I shake my head the other way, because he makes me a little embarrassed. And he tells me that he himself, since he is chubby, is identical to my Frankenstein.
And I think about the luck of the man who makes books. With those screws in his head and eating all the "s", he could still learn to make books (...).

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