In 1962, Tom Jobim wrote "Samba do Avião" (Airplane Samba). The song is the voice of someone arriving in Rio from above. From the window, the city slowly opens up, Guanabara Bay comes into view, and what one feels is the joy of arriving. There is no criticism and no tension. There is enchantment, and the pleasant surprise of seeing up close something one had been waiting for a long time.
After visiting about half of the country's hubs (Acre, Mato Grosso, Mato Grosso do Sul, Santa Catarina, Rio Grande do Sul, Bahia, Rio Grande do Norte, Tocantins and Goiás), I arrived in Rio de Janeiro almost by chance. The visit to Belo Horizonte was cancelled on a Sunday, at eleven in the morning, and the new ticket had to be issued by the 30th, the last day the research funds could be used. I still needed to visit a state in the Southeast. São Paulo did not join the Network, and Espírito Santo joined but did not request a hub. That left Rio. As in Jobim's samba, it was the arrival of someone who watches the city open up little by little and lets himself be surprised. For the first time, the Hub was not in a headquarters, in a separate building or in a hidden corner. It was inside a state high school in full operation, Colégio Estadual João Alfredo, in the Vila Isabel neighborhood. There, the mural at the entrance was painted by the students, and the girls tell what the school has changed in their lives. The enchantment of arriving does not hide the difficulties of the territory. But it marks what, for the cartography, is the main event of this fieldwork: I was affected by something that no hub I had visited before had shown me. And in cartography, being affected is not a deviation from the method. It is part of it (Favret-Saada, 2005; Passos; Kastrup; Escóssia, 2009).
The day began at the State Department of Education, with the Hub's management team, and ended at the school, with its leadership and with students who had already been through the studio. I found a small team, made up of teachers from the state network, who split their time between the Department and the Hub and who work with careful planning and a great deal of communication. I also found a history marked by interruptions. Changes of administration altered plans, postponed projects and left the teams in a provisional situation. Even so, the Hub kept working.
The choice of a school was born from a limitation. But in my eyes it became a choice full of meaning. CNE/CEB Resolution No. 2/2024 describes hybrid education as an expansion of the times and spaces of learning. In Rio, that expansion begins at the school's front door. The Hub is close to those who learn, and students stop being only the audience for the materials and become authors as well. The team makes a point of saying that what they have is not an audiovisual studio, but a space for fostering hybrid education. Their production follows that direction, with series that give a voice to students and teachers, show realities that the network itself knows little about, and share classroom practices.
Fernanda Abreu once sang, in "Rio 40 graus" (Rio 40 degrees), that Rio is made of many cities mixed into one. I heard that idea in different ways throughout the day. The capital, the mountain region, the Baixada Fluminense and the coast are different Rios, and the distances between them are not only geographical. Some students cross the metropolitan area every day in search of an education they cannot find near home. People from outside tend to speak of Rio as if it were a single city. It is not. And perhaps one of the most beautiful tasks a Hub can take on lies right there: showing the country the many cities that fit inside Rio.
At the school, the leadership sees the Hub as recognition of a commitment that already existed and as a seedbed of possibilities. Living together works because there is dialogue between the Hub's team and the school that hosts it. But it was the students who affected me. They spoke of what the school has changed in their lives with simple words, such as hope and overcoming. They told stories of families going back to school alongside their children, and they proudly showed the mural they helped create. I came away with the impression that, there, the Hub is not a piece of equipment installed in a school. It is one more door that the school opens for those who were already searching.
If I had to say what this fieldwork adds to the cartography of the Network, I would say it is a combination of a few things:
- closeness to those who learn, which turns students into authors and not just an audience;
- a relationship with the school built through dialogue;
- a production that seeks to give a voice to those the network rarely hears;
- and planning that protects the work when conditions fail.
The rigid lines are there too (Passos; Kastrup; Escóssia, 2009). Changes of government cut through the timeline. There are institutional limits between producing materials and educating teachers. There is no equipment for recording outside the studio. Evaluation is still limited to access data. And, as in almost every place, exchange between states is not happening yet. These are the same forces I have been finding in territories very far apart from one another, and they bring back the question that has been with me since Acre: what makes a network a national network?
I leave Rio feeling like someone who arrived from above and had to come down to the ground to understand the city. From the airplane, you see the Bay. From the school, you see the many cities that fit inside Rio. The challenge that remains is to take these cities beyond the state. That way, what is produced in Vila Isabel can reach a classroom in Alagoas, and the reverse can happen too.
The interviews from the day have already been transcribed and added to the research archive. Next week we will be with hub coordinators from all over the country, and I carry with me the students' message: do more.
We keep mapping, from above, as in Jobim's samba...
And on the ground, like someone crossing the city to get to school...
Research diary – Rio de Janeiro (RJ), October 29, 2026
In 1962, Tom Jobim wrote "Samba do Avião" (Airplane Samba). The song is the voice of someone arriving in Rio from above. From the window, the city slowly opens up, Guanabara Bay comes into view, and what one feels is the joy of arriving. There is no criticism and no tension. There is enchantment, and the pleasant surprise of seeing up close something one had been waiting for a long time.
After visiting about half of the country's hubs (Acre, Mato Grosso, Mato Grosso do Sul, Santa Catarina, Rio Grande do Sul, Bahia, Rio Grande do Norte, Tocantins and Goiás), I arrived in Rio de Janeiro almost by chance. The visit to Belo Horizonte was cancelled on a Sunday, at eleven in the morning, and the new ticket had to be issued by the 30th, the last day the research funds could be used. I still needed to visit a state in the Southeast. São Paulo did not join the Network, and Espírito Santo joined but did not request a hub. That left Rio. As in Jobim's samba, it was the arrival of someone who watches the city open up little by little and lets himself be surprised. For the first time, the Hub was not in a headquarters, in a separate building or in a hidden corner. It was inside a state high school in full operation, Colégio Estadual João Alfredo, in the Vila Isabel neighborhood. There, the mural at the entrance was painted by the students, and the girls tell what the school has changed in their lives. The enchantment of arriving does not hide the difficulties of the territory. But it marks what, for the cartography, is the main event of this fieldwork: I was affected by something that no hub I had visited before had shown me. And in cartography, being affected is not a deviation from the method. It is part of it (Favret-Saada, 2005; Passos; Kastrup; Escóssia, 2009).
The day began at the State Department of Education, with the Hub's management team, and ended at the school, with its leadership and with students who had already been through the studio. I found a small team, made up of teachers from the state network, who split their time between the Department and the Hub and who work with careful planning and a great deal of communication. I also found a history marked by interruptions. Changes of administration altered plans, postponed projects and left the teams in a provisional situation. Even so, the Hub kept working.
The choice of a school was born from a limitation. But in my eyes it became a choice full of meaning. CNE/CEB Resolution No. 2/2024 describes hybrid education as an expansion of the times and spaces of learning. In Rio, that expansion begins at the school's front door. The Hub is close to those who learn, and students stop being only the audience for the materials and become authors as well. The team makes a point of saying that what they have is not an audiovisual studio, but a space for fostering hybrid education. Their production follows that direction, with series that give a voice to students and teachers, show realities that the network itself knows little about, and share classroom practices.
Fernanda Abreu once sang, in "Rio 40 graus" (Rio 40 degrees), that Rio is made of many cities mixed into one. I heard that idea in different ways throughout the day. The capital, the mountain region, the Baixada Fluminense and the coast are different Rios, and the distances between them are not only geographical. Some students cross the metropolitan area every day in search of an education they cannot find near home. People from outside tend to speak of Rio as if it were a single city. It is not. And perhaps one of the most beautiful tasks a Hub can take on lies right there: showing the country the many cities that fit inside Rio.
At the school, the leadership sees the Hub as recognition of a commitment that already existed and as a seedbed of possibilities. Living together works because there is dialogue between the Hub's team and the school that hosts it. But it was the students who affected me. They spoke of what the school has changed in their lives with simple words, such as hope and overcoming. They told stories of families going back to school alongside their children, and they proudly showed the mural they helped create. I came away with the impression that, there, the Hub is not a piece of equipment installed in a school. It is one more door that the school opens for those who were already searching.
If I had to say what this fieldwork adds to the cartography of the Network, I would say it is a combination of a few things:
- closeness to those who learn, which turns students into authors and not just an audience;
- a relationship with the school built through dialogue;
- a production that seeks to give a voice to those the network rarely hears;
- and planning that protects the work when conditions fail.
The rigid lines are there too (Passos; Kastrup; Escóssia, 2009). Changes of government cut through the timeline. There are institutional limits between producing materials and educating teachers. There is no equipment for recording outside the studio. Evaluation is still limited to access data. And, as in almost every place, exchange between states is not happening yet. These are the same forces I have been finding in territories very far apart from one another, and they bring back the question that has been with me since Acre: what makes a network a national network?
I leave Rio feeling like someone who arrived from above and had to come down to the ground to understand the city. From the airplane, you see the Bay. From the school, you see the many cities that fit inside Rio. The challenge that remains is to take these cities beyond the state. That way, what is produced in Vila Isabel can reach a classroom in Alagoas, and the reverse can happen too.
The interviews from the day have already been transcribed and added to the research archive. Next week we will be with hub coordinators from all over the country, and I carry with me the students' message: do more.
We keep mapping, from above, as in Jobim's samba...
And on the ground, like someone crossing the city to get to school...
References
ABREU, Fernanda; FAWCETT, Fausto; LAUFER, Carlos. Rio 40 graus. Intérprete: Fernanda Abreu. In: ABREU, Fernanda. SLA 2 Be Sample. Rio de Janeiro: EMI, 1992. 1 CD.
BRASIL. Ministério da Educação. Conselho Nacional de Educação. Câmara de Educação Básica. Resolução CNE/CEB nº 2, de 13 de novembro de 2024. Institui as Diretrizes Curriculares Nacionais para o Ensino Médio. Diário Oficial da União: seção 1, Brasília, DF, 14 nov. 2024.
BRASIL. Ministério da Educação. Portaria nº 865, de 8 de novembro de 2022. Institui a Rede de Inovação para a Educação Híbrida. Diário Oficial da União: seção 1, Brasília, DF, 10 nov. 2022.
FAVRET-SAADA, Jeanne. Ser afetado. Tradução de Paula Siqueira. Cadernos de Campo, São Paulo, n. 13, p. 155-161, 2005.
JOBIM, Antonio Carlos. Samba do avião. 1962. Canção.
PASSOS, E.; KASTRUP, V.; ESCÓSSIA, L. (org.). Pistas do método da cartografia: pesquisa-intervenção e produção de subjetividade. Porto Alegre: Sulina, 2009.
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