CAMAGÜEY — Today, we are called together by light. With those words, the tribute panel for Nazario Salazar, one of the most beloved figures in Camagüey’s cultural scene, began. The phrase was more than a formal opening; it was a statement of meaning — light as a symbol of his legacy, his teaching, and the beauty he has cultivated for more than eight decades.

The morning unfolded as a serene celebration at the University of Camagüey’s Pedagogical Campus — formerly the José Martí Higher Pedagogical Institute — the same place where Nazario trained as an art teacher. He returned not as a student this time, but as an example of what it means to teach with love, create with faith, and live with devotion.

The panel, organized by the eJo Project as part of the Cuban Culture Week, brought together colleagues and friends who have accompanied him along his artistic and pedagogical journey. Among the speakers were Armando Pérez Padrón, film history professor and president of the Camagüey branch of the Union of Writers and Artists of Cuba (UNEAC), and Adela García Yero, architect and professor.

Actor Grabiel Castillo, deputy director of eJo, highlighted the far-reaching influence of Nazario’s teaching beyond the classroom walls.

“When we search for a true educator,” he said, “we shouldn’t look only within a school building. Nazario has also been one in the community, through projects such as El barro de mi barrio and Colibrí, where he teaches that art has the power to transform.”

The day began with a moment of purity: Nicdiel Lezcano Quintero, a second-year student of Art Education, performed a saxophone piece that filled the room with quiet emotion. Later, that moment became one of the most moving memories when Nazario himself, visibly touched, referred to it in his closing remarks:

“I watched a young man giving his all... only a year of study, and he’s already able to perform so beautifully. That’s what we must achieve in our students,” he said, his voice trembling. The audience applauded, and he, humble as always, apologized for his emotion.

Nazario spoke with the same natural ease with which he has shaped clay or guided a brush. “Nothing I’ve ever done,” he confessed, “has been in search of recognition. I’ve done it because I felt the need to do it. Much of what I’ve been able to express was born here, in these classrooms, over five years. Here I learned the scientific side of teaching.”

His words confirmed what everyone already knew — that teaching, for him, has always been an act of faith.

“If we lack the depth and conviction in what we do for others,” he said, “then what becomes of the result of our work?”

The tribute concluded with another symbol of light: Danay Fernández sang Préstame tu color (Lend Me Your Color), as if her voice sought to extend the metaphor of light, art, and shared life.

Nazario Salazar received recognitions from the University of Camagüey and the Cuban Association of Pedagogues in the province. Yet beyond certificates or applause, what was truly celebrated that morning was something deeper — the clarity left behind by someone who has taught through his life. Because there are artists who illuminate through their work, and others, like Nazario, who do so also through their example.

Translated by Linet Acuña Quilez