Monday Moonday

That's what my kids call it. It's also the day that they doing paintings at their daycare.

I assume it's Monday --> Moon --> water --> watercolor painting, if I have my correspondences right.**

I'll share some paintings we did at home the other day. Probably not on a Monday, but I'm sure you'll forgive me.

We use cheapo craft store watercolor paper, which we often cut in half. This time I went whole hog into Waldorf style and rounded off the corners beforehand!

Because I save money on the cheapo paper, we use the expensive Stockmar watercolors. What saves our budget is that it's concentrated stuff, which we dilute way down and store in little glass jars in the refrigerator for many future sessions. (Because they are made with natural pigments and binders, the diluted paint will start to smell very bad -- rotten egg bad! -- if left out at room temperature, especially the blues.)

This is Napoleona's. She usually fills the whole page with swaths of muddy colors (she's not very good at remembering to clean her brush between colors). This time she ended the painting with all the little dots in the bottom right corner. I also notice that she made a "frame" of paint.

This one is SillyBilly's. He often treats painting like drawing, making lines of paint to make shape outlines. You can see that in the blue here. But this time he swirled things around a bit and it came out much softer.

This one is by Anthropapa. I like how he let the wet paint colors bleed into each other a bit.

And here's mine. I was going for a sunset over the Santa Monica Mountains kind of look. (Unfortunately they look like this right now because of more wildfires lighting up the evening sky. I had no idea about that when I did this painting.)

**There is a Waldorf cultural tradition that the days of the week have correspondences.

This is nothing new; alchemists and astrologers assigned planets for each day long ago, hence their names. (It helps to have a few foreign languages to see some of them: Tuesday (Tyr's day from the Norse) is Mars day -- Mardi in French. Wednesday (Woden's day from German) is Mercury day -- Mercoledì in Italian.)

And so there are also the things that go along with the days and their planets: colors (blue for Moon/Monday, red for Mars/Tuesday) and foods (Rice/watery on Monday, Oats/fiery on Tuesday) that Waldorf early childhood teachers work with in particular.

What's up with all those gnomes and fairies?

[Fairies and gnomes] actually come from people's experiences of elemental forces that help the plants to grow or the minerals to form. These "sightings" or "sensings" occur cross culturally, although we are pretty steeped in the European tradition of how these "elemental beings" are talked about and represented in visual form. There is a kind of "truth" in how they are represented in paintings or knitted figures, because the person rendering them is trying to convey certain archetypal truths.
-- Rahima Baldwin Dancy, Waldorf in the Home

One thing that many people notice about Waldorf early childhood classrooms are the gnomes and fairies. Little knitted or felt gnomes might live in a basket ready for children to play with, or silk fairies might hang from golden threads above a springtime nature table.

Kindergarten teachers might lead their children in a circle game about gnomes marching through the forest with heavy sacks of jewels, or sing songs about fairies helping the bees to find nectar in summer blooms.

So, what's going on with this? Why all the emphasis on mythical beings?

Waldorf early childhood methods emphasize imaginative play. We also try to foster the child's natural sense of being "one" with the world and with nature. Children love to be outside, playing with water, mud, sticks, rocks, and flowers.

Children also have a natural feeling that everything around them is "alive." Rocks can talk, trees have feelings, and certainly there are invisible beings all around us helping with natural processes. Fairies and gnomes are a physical manifestation of this feeling of the aliveness of nature.

On another level, fairies and gnomes could be seen as representations of the opposing forces that human beings must try to balance: Fairies are pure spirit, hardly touching the Earth, and working with the forces of life and growth. Gnomes are pure matter, living and working under the earth in the mineral realm, and working with the forces of death and hardening.

Here in our house we have lots of gnomes and fairies around. We've got one in the fridge, for example, who lets us know he's happy with the food selection by making loud knocking sounds occasionally. The kids have numerous little gnomes made of felt, wood, and that dashing knitted fellow you see above. I feel that bringing in a bit of this archetypal, elemental world is one way to work imaginatively with forces and processes that are otherwise invisible, and it encourages the kids to use their imaginations.

I'll give one last personal example of why I like to incorporate the "little people" in my little people's lives:

At night we can see some lights in the distance out of a window in the kids' room. One night I told them that perhaps those were the lights of a far-off fairy castle. I wove a story about how the fairies were so busy all day helping the plants to grow, flowers to bloom, etc. that it wasn't until nighttime that they could rest in their castle. We talked about how they have grand processions (are those lights over there flaming torches lighting their way?) and how they love to dance after they've eaten their feast (are those lights the glow of the stoves in their huge kitchens?). The kids were full of wonder and their eyes shone.

The kids often refer to the fairy castle lights, even though I told that story long ago and haven't mentioned it to them since. They really took in those images and can work with them in an imaginative way. They have never once made the connection between the fairy castle's lights and the building that sits there in the daytime!

Halloween Lantern Walk

Another autumn, another Waldorf Lantern Walk.

To elaborate for those of my 6-7 loyal readers who aren't familiar with the Waldorf world -- Halloween is no exception to our general avoidance of commercialized holiday celebrations.

There is no trick-or-treating. There is no candy.

There are costumes, and darkness and light, and a small treat at the end. (Biodynamic raisins, this year.) It's a bit of Halloween, a bit of Martinmas, all rolled into one.

At Rudolf Steiner College and Sunbridge College (the two largest Waldorf teacher training colleges in the US), the students, faculty, and staff create a beautiful Halloween experience for the children of the community. On campus grounds they create scenes from fairy tales, pirate adventures, undersea realms, water fairies, and other imaginative pictures for the children. Years ago, RSC also had a "Perilous Path" for older children, complete with goblins jumping out at those brave enough to walk the path (the children only need say "I am the light!" for the goblins to be dispelled).

Many of the scenes are enacted in silence; some are stories abridged to a few scenes, while others are simply tableaux. In this way, the children's imaginations are inspired. For the youngest ones, just being out after dark, walking along a dimly lit path, is magical!

The college students also get a taste of the work and joy of creating a community festival, similar to what many of them will do once they are teachers at Waldorf schools.

For several years Anthropapa and I participated in Lantern Walks. One year we were the King and Queen of the Undersea Realm, complete with a quite fishy song Anthropapa wrote for us to sing! "Come dance with us, come swim with us, under the sea so blue..." With our fellow students, we swathed a small classroom in blue and green cloth, draped a stack of folding tables for our royal dais, and strewed the room with ocean creatures made of paper and cloth. One student with metalworking skills made us crowns and a trident!

For the last two years, the Lantern Walk has gone right through our backyard...so our jack-o'lanterns are part of the overall decor, and the kids had the thrill of watching some friends put up an enormous (full-size) tepee next door! Our yard is also graced with a small fire ring as a result of the Rumpelstiltskin story taking up residence there last year. But the best part is that tonight from 5:45-8 pm, we had to turn all the lights out in our house. That meant candles, and lots of them. Even pooping before bedtime in the dark!

This year's favorites, according to SillyBilly and Napoleona: Snow White & Rose Red (complete with Bear!); the Witch and Wizard Stirring Their Potions; and the Pirates Digging Up Treasure, Fighting Over Treasure, And Then Making Up And Sharing The Treasure.

Madame Anthromama's Art Lesson

I know that according to Waldorf early childhood principles, I should not use too many words or abstract concepts with my children. But sometimes, I just can't help myself....

SillyBilly loves to tell his sister what to do and how to do it. This often occurs when they are at the table "arting." They sit facing each other, sharing a large bin of paper, crayons, construction paper, etc.

SillyBilly is always telling Napoleona, "that's not how you draw X" or "that doesn't look like a Y."

This makes me crazy.

So, the other day I got fed up. I went to the shelf and pulled out Gombrich's The Story of Art, and called the boy over.

I showed him pictures of the Annunciation throughout the ages (chosen simply because they are ubiquitous). I asked him, do any of them look the same? He said no. I pointed out that none of them are "wrong."


Then we looked at some paintings by Van Gogh, one of his favorite artists. I asked, does the sky really have swirls in it? He said no.


I asked, do people really have green and purple and yellow and orange spots on their faces? He said no. And I pointed out that these are still beautiful paintings.


I hope that I didn't go overboard, but it just seemed so important to me that he understand this. I hope that he sees that there isn't just one way to do things, and that there are ways to do things that don't necessarily depict what's "real" but are still valid. And I hope that pointing out "reality" doesn't crush his imagination in some way.

More Waldorf school PR struggles...

...this time in Australia.

I don't know how the state schools incorporate Waldorf/Steiner methods in Australia -- if they are fully independent, charter schools (as in California) where some state requirements must be met, or some other structure.

But I do know a bit about the methods of education and the anthroposophical thought behind it, and feel moved to respond to some of the comments in the article:

"Critics say that its philosophical basis is too religious -- even comparing it to Scientology -- to be in the secular public system.

But supporters deny Steiner education is religious and argue it is a holistic approach to learning."

Anthroposophy is spiritual. In the anthroposophical view, all of human existence is imbued with spirit. Therefore any human interaction -- be it in a Waldorf/Steiner school, a public school, the grocery store, a prison -- involves the spiritual world. Only when we come from a materialistic, dualistic viewpoint does the concept of "secularity vs. spirituality" arise.

Waldorf/Steiner schools do not teach a religion to the students. They do foster the natural sense of awe, wonder, and respect for the world that children have. Anthroposophy is a philosophical world-view, not a religion. You can follow any religion you like, or none at all, and still work with anthroposophy.

"Supporters of Steiner are adamant anthroposophy is not taught to children, and that Steiner himself said the spiritual science was only for adults who chose to do it.

But parents and religious experts are concerned that Steiner teachers learn about anthroposophy in their training and these beliefs seep into the classroom. 'What a lot of people don't get is that Steiner is based on a spiritual system not an educational one,' says cult expert Raphael Aron.... It is implicit in everything they do."

Anthroposophy is never taught directly to children (though in some schools here in the US I believe it is included in some high school senior classes about world religion). Steiner specifically stated that teachers should never speak of anthroposophy directly to students: "If anyone thinks the Waldorf School is a school for Anthroposophy it shows he has no understanding either of Waldorf School pedagogy or of Anthroposophy." (Spiritual Ground of Education, lecture 8 of 8/24/1922.)

But yes, of course, it is the foundation of Waldorf/Steiner methods. Of course the beliefs "seep into the classroom," but only in that everything that the teacher brings to the students is informed by the anthroposophical worldview, not that it is included in the curriculum. If teachers are including anthroposophy in their curricula, they are making a mistake.

"[Aron] said there was a lack of transparency in the schools and often parents were not told about what Steiner believed, making it not dissimilar to Scientology."

I can't speak about Scientology, but I believe that it is possible, and perhaps even common, that schools are not forthright and clear enough with parents about anthroposophy. Part of the problem stems from what I perceive as a fear of talking about some of the beliefs outright, because they are far outside the mainstream. Guardian angels, etheric bodies, reincarnation, karma, elemental beings...these all come into play, albeit mostly in minor ways. And personally I don't think these things are the crux of the pedagogy anyway, but I can see how some of these beliefs could come as a shock to parents, especially if not presented in a clear way.

However I also think that it's unreasonable to expect schools to discuss every belief that informs the pedagogy. Steiner gave about 6,000 lectures during his lifetime -- how would it even be possible to fully "disclose" anthroposophy to prospective parents? Do Catholic schools describe every bit of doctrine to parents? Do Montessori schools give parents all of Maria Montessori's writings?

"Mr Pereira, who is from Sri Lanka, said his concerns about Steiner's racist beliefs were realised when his children were not allowed to use black or brown crayons because they were "not pure". He said Steiner teachers at the state-run school recommended they not immunise their children because it would lead to the 'bestialisation of humans'."

This to me sounds like teachers trying to explain concepts, and failing.

In early childhood, it is thought that children should experience color in a moving, feeling way, without too much hardened form, because that is the state of the children themselves: moving, feeling, still soft (bones, rounded bodies, etc.) and not fully incarnated. That is why children in Waldorf/Steiner schools do watercolor paintings instead of coloring pre-drawn images, and that is why black and brown are discouraged -- these colors are "earthly" and tend to create form instead of color experiences. I would say that calling them "impure" is not accurate.

And there are numerous explanations and thoughts about discouraging immunization, but using the word "bestialization" seems excessive and inaccurate. I've talked before about the issue of Steiner and racism; linking crayons and race is just silly. I think that people bring up the race card about Steiner because it immediately causes fear and doubt, and obscures real discussion.

"Rudolf Steiner Schools of Australia executive officer Rosemary Gentle said anthroposophy was not taught to children, although teachers were introduced to the subject during their training.

'It has nothing to do with what is taught. It is just the approach to teaching,' she said.

'The teachers are given an anthroposophy background ... and it allows them to look into a child more deeply. You look at children as you would in a family. You strive to understand the child and recognise their emerging personality.'"

Perhaps my comparison with Catholic schools was problematic, because it is an inherent goal of that school system to create more Catholics. Waldorf/Steiner schools do not work that way. Sure, if you think you've got the best way to view reality, you hope that everyone else will climb on your bandwagon so that everyone can benefit. And if you have a world-view of any kind, be it intellectual development at the expense of artistic and social skills or religion as the basis of all reality or anthroposophy or secular humanism or whatever, it will surely inform your actions.

But the commonly stated goal of Waldorf/Steiner education is not to create more anthroposophists. It is to provide a developmentally appropriate and healing curriculum to help the children become balanced, socially aware, and able to integrate all parts of their selves -- body, soul, and spirit -- into a healthy adult life.

Steiner and Racism

I've been mulling over a blog post on anthroposophy for a long time now. You see, it touches on a very touchy and contentious subject: racism. And I haven't been sure I really want to step into such murky waters. Much of the criticism of Steiner published online revolves around the racism question, and it is so inflammatory and biased that I hesitate to add another voice to the discussion.

However it's something that I think anthroposophists cannot shirk from. Steiner exhorted us to shine the light of consciousness on everything we say and do. And I certainly don't think that a balanced view of this issue can be obtained by reading what is already out there.

Steiner had a lot to say about human development, evolution, and the role "races" have to play in the spiritual development of mankind. Unfortunately, many of his statements, if taken out of the overall context of his beliefs and other statements, sound baldly racist to modern ears. And that is a valid concern today, given that Waldorf teacher training includes extensive reading of Steiner's books and lectures.

Much of the discourse on this subject has been based on cherry-picking quotes to back up opposing claims, as can be done with the Bible (e.g., Thou shalt not kill vs. thou shalt not suffer a witch to live). I don't think that kind of argumentation is productive, so here I will not give any quotations but merely give my perspective.

I will be clear from the start: in my opinion, Steiner was not racist in the way that we use the word today. He believed in the exalted spiritual nature of each human being, regardless of their physical or cultural ancestry. To him, any artificial divisions among groups of people -- race, religion, nationality -- are materialistic and counter to the goals of spiritual development both for individuals and humanity as a whole. Time and again in his books and public speeches Steiner declaimed against divisiveness (in fact, his writings against nationalism were in large part why the Nazis suppressed anthroposophy and Waldorf schools in Germany).

I will give one example, though I tread lightly here. Steiner believed that the function of Jewish culture and religion was to properly develop a hereditary stream for Jesus to incarnate into. Therefore, after Jesus was born, in some sense the Jewish culture and religion were no longer necessary for humanity's spiritual development.

He did not mean, to my understanding, that Jews should be eradicated or are somehow less developed or valid than other people. He just meant that the impulse of the Jewish faith was no longer the most current in the overall stream of human spiritual development.

You see how tricky this gets?

Now the question is: how much of this affects Waldorf schools? The fact is that some of Steiner's lectures that include discussion of race are typically included in Waldorf teacher training programs, though in my experience not for the purpose of discussing race or even really anything to do with teaching. They are merely part of the overall picture of Steiner's work and belief about human evolution and Christianity. And teachers do typically continue to study Steiner's works during their work as teachers. So this question does merit some examination into current Waldorf methodologies.

And the next question: even if we were to decide that some of Steiner's comments were racist, does that mean we have to reject everything else he said and did? Perhaps it's overly apologetic, but after all, he was a white male Roman Catholic from the 19th century German culture. No matter how much we think he was clairvoyant and special, he was still a human being, and error could have crept in. Do his beliefs about the ancient evolution of humanity truly cast a pall over the demonstrable good that his other works do: Waldorf schools, biodynamic agriculture, anthroposophic medicine, socially beneficial banking, to name a few?

Steiner said explicitly that we no longer need gurus. We no longer need to take anyone's words as articles of faith, and in fact doing so will hinder our development. Concepts must grow and develop, and to simply take what was given in the past leads to petrification instead of fruitfulness. So we have to read Steiner and decide for ourselves whether what he said even applies to our time today. I believe he was showing us the way that race was important in the past, and in doing so he underscores how unimportant it is for the present.

Moomintroll Mania

We are on a Moomintroll kick. I had never heard of these books, but a tip from (un)relaxeddad sent me searching the library.

We have now read Finn Family Moomintroll several times, and I plan to swing by the library again tomorrow to get more books.

If you don't know already, the Moomins are Scandinavian trolls, but not the hairy, dirty, nocturnal kind. Moomins love the sun and hibernate all winter. They are round, fat, and white with big noses, almost like hippos. They love pancakes, and parties, and excursions on the sea. The Moominhouse is open to any new friends who happen to come by:

"Moomintroll's mother and father always welcomed all their friends in the same quiet way, just adding another bed and putting another leaf in the dining-room table."

Doesn't that sound lovely! Of course, there are odd bits too, like the Hattifatteners, who are strange creatures that reminded me of the kodama in Princess Mononoke, except the Hattifatteners sting like nettles, and become electrified during thunderstorms. They are ominous little creatures. The Hobgoblin, with his glowing red eyes and flying panther, was a bit scary for us too, but he turned out to be a bit different than we expected. And the Groke, who freezes everything she touches and speaks in monosyllables, was a bit creepy as well.

I found these books very entertaining for me as an adult. It's like there are little bonus jokes for adults hidden inside the otherwise whimsical stories. During a party, Moominpappa makes a speech, thanking people, exhorting all the guests to be happy, "and then he began to talk about his youth. This was the signal for Moominmamma to push in a whole trolleyful of pancakes, and everybody clapped."

I'm waiting to learn more about Snufkin, who loves traveling, plays the harmonica, and sleeps in a tent; the Hemulen, who is not very brave, loves collecting things, and wears a dress; Sniff, who looks kind of like a kangaroo and acts like a little brother; and the Snork and Snork Maiden, who look pretty much like Moomintrolls but somehow are different.

We've moved from picture books to chapter books with SillyBilly. Even though he's only 4 1/2, and typically Waldorf families don't read such long books to children that young, SillyBilly just eats them up. During quiet time when his sister is napping, or when we have to give him his asthma medicine in the nebulizer, we can sit and read these books forever. "Read more, Mama!!"

Other recent chapter book hits:
Stuart Little
Little House in the Big Woods
Farmer Boy
Happy Times in Noisy Village
The Cricket in Times Square

Some thoughts on toys

Napoleona's third birthday is coming up soon, and so I've been thinking about toys. Having two kids, I'm often thinking about toys, stepping on toys, telling them not to throw their toys, fixing toys, etc. But what are toys, and what makes a good toy?

Waldorf methods are pretty clear about some things: encourage the child's imaginative processes with simple objects that can be used in a variety of ways, choose natural materials that are pleasant to work with and connect the child to the natural world, and nurture the child's instinct to imitate the world and processes he sees in daily life (e.g. cleaning, cooking, caring for others).

Human beings in general, and small children in particular, are beings in the process of becoming. In his surroundings the child needs that which is in the process of becoming, and needs the possibility to transform and create anew. It is not the finished, completed object which is refreshing, satisfying and invigorating for children...A crooked branch with many little side branches and twigs, completely covered with a cloth, can be a mountain in a landscape; half-covered it can be a gnome's cave, a dollhouse, or a barn...Those materials which support and encourage the kind of play indicated above will best nourish the imaginative strength of the young child which develops into the faculties and capacities needed during school-age years and later in life. In such play the child can experiment freely and become acquainted with the world by being active. In a profound manner the child unites himself with the world creating self-confidence and a sense of security.

--Toymaking with Children, Freya Jaffke

Well. Who knew toys were that powerful? Many parents have the instinct that tells them the "beep-boop" type of toy isn't the best. Witness the typical delight of the child given a cardboard box. SillyBilly played for several hours today with an empty tissue box. It formed part of a trash truck, and the last time I saw it, it had become a snug little bed for a stuffed animal. Give them some sticks, rocks, mud and a few buckets and scoops, and the Huntlings will have a ball in the yard. Here's Napoleona "fishing" off the back steps with a stick:

The Not Quite Crunchy Parent had a good post recently about one of our favorite "be-anything" toys, play silks. So far I've been hoarding all the silks for the nature table, but the kids have a big yellow silk that I plant-dyed a few years ago. It usually functions as a cape, but it has also been a wheat field for the matchbox tractor and bedding for numerous stuffed animals.


Lately the kids (especially Napoleona) have been making "houses": they take cloths, baskets, dining room chairs, and whatever else strikes their fancies to make little enclosures. Sometimes it's just Napoleona sitting on the floor by the couch surrounded by baskets that form her "walls." Other times I help them make grand dining room table palaces with flannel sheet walls and soft pillow beds inside. (Note to any grandparents reading this: we could use some more cloths and playclips to enhance this experience!)

Now, we don't have a total ban on non-Waldorf toys. A good friend gave SillyBilly a quite awesome plastic red and black dragon, which has become a favorite. Occasionally we give them markers instead of beeswax crayons. But generally we try to stay away from toys that are too formed or structured. So in general, blank drawing paper is in, coloring books are out. Wooden blocks (many made by Grandpa Walt) are in, Legos are out.

I'm still working on that farm landscape for the kids. It has taken a lot longer to crochet, knit, and latch hook a relatively little rug than I thought it would. Today SillyBilly sewed on a brown felt "bean field" all by himself. YES! Helpers! In any case, we are all looking forward to the farm coming to life soon, and I promise to take pictures.

Day Care Triumph -or- How I Found Time to Work

Well, we seem to have found us some daycare for the Huntlings. A very nice lady has a LifeWays method daycare in her home, almost within walking distance. The kids liked her very much, she has a very charming indoor space, and the backyard comes complete with chickens!

I learned about LifeWays back in California, by taking an introductory seminar with Cynthia Aldinger, the founder. She is such a joyful person, and has worked in the early childhood world for many years. Years ago she and a colleague found that while the need for daycare for very small children (even infants) was increasing, the Waldorf movement had not been willing or able to provide such care. Waldorf kindergarten teachers thought that ideally a child under kindergarten age (in Waldorf this can be as old as 6) should be home with a parent.

Of course, that's not always possible, or even common, any more. So Cynthia developed the idea of a Waldorf-inspired daycare, with mixed ages and a structure like a home environment: domestic tasks like cleaning and cooking, real furniture like couches and dressers for clothes, and consistent caregivers. Children would be in a nurturing environment much like their own homes, surrounded by the practical tasks of life, and developing their own capacities for nurturing through interactions with children of varying ages. Infants would be cared for by the same person over many years so that healthy bonds can form.

We're all very excited by the prospect of the kids having this kind of environment when away from home. They'll be playing outside, helping with the chickens, eating snacks and lunches they helped prepare, and meeting new children with whom they can practice being kind and gentle!

Update: SillyBilly LOVED his first day at daycare. He got to hammer things, help make soup, and he even made a friend (though he can't remember her name and evidently spent most of the morning being "mean" to her until they made nice.) On the other hand, Napoleona woke up at 10:30 last night with a mysterious earache, then again at 5 am with a 101.8 fever. She stayed home today, I got 1/2 hour of work done out of the 4 hours I hoped for, and now she's taking a humungous nap. Oh well, we'll try again tomorrow.

Friday Freezing Fun

Anthropapa had the day off today, so he and SillyBilly took the bus into the city for a big boy adventure. Plans included possibly taking the subway, going to the Met to see the Egyptian stuff, and playing at the adjacent Ancient Playground.

So I decided to take the rare chance and go to the nearby Waldorf toy store, Meadowlark. It's in a tiny red barn, far too small and full of nicely displayed toys to risk taking two kids single-handedly. Napoleona had a fine time checking things out, and ended up sitting in one spot playing with puzzles while I puttered around. Bless you, my little phlegmatic one! I was even able to sneak out a birthday present for her.


But the highlight of our morning, and the reason for this post, was our walk to the store. We are very lucky to live in an area that while fairly densely populated, also supports a healthy variety of wildlife and opportunities for nature experiences. Though our walk was about 1/2 mile, we experienced all this:

• slipping on the slidy ice
• prickly holly leaves
  
• a small flock of cedar waxwings
• ice rimming the brook
  
• the first robin sighting of the spring!
• some of the first green leaves of the season--how do they push through the still frozen soil?
  
• the stump where an enormous mulberry tree fell down last autumn
• huge rhododendron buds just waiting to open
• gray squirrels busily trying to find the last of their winter caches
  
• handfuls of sticks
• an enormous crow squawking from the top of a tall tree, silhouetted against the bright blue sky

In the anthroposophical view of human development, the young child under age seven learns primarily through physical activity and imitation. Though it's been a difficult winter for outside play (little snow but lots of cold windy days), we've been taking little walks to see what can be seen in the forest around us. In this way the kids are still able to be outside even if they can't do their favorite things like digging or water play. The other day they had a blast trying to use their toy hammers to break a huge mound of icy snow piled up by a snow plow, finding the one patch of mud to get themselves filthy (!) and climbing on boulders.

Today's moment of imitation came after our walk. I got out the bird book to make sure those were indeed cedar waxwings we saw. A few moments later, Napoleona was sitting by me with 3 or 4 stuffed animals, paging through the book and teaching her little friends all about the birds. Nothing nicer than hearing her say "Look little puppy, a bald eagle!!"

Recently I've been mulling over the idea of homeschooling the kids using Waldorf methods. Since they're both at home anyway I'm already de facto homeschooling them, and it couldn't be easier using Waldorf ideas. Early childhood is about will forces and imitation: last night before bed I got the kids to help me clean their room by saying that we would be birds making our nests. I started picking things up and before I knew it they were both grabbing baskets to fill with all the toys on the floor, making wooden block nests, toy car nests, etc. Napoleona even went so far as to take a wooden bowl, fill it with bits of ribbon and cloth for softness (I had been telling them about how birds will use things like string, snakeskins, or even plastic to line their nests), and then proceed to sit on the bowl until her stuffed animal "hatched"!

To me, that was a beautiful moment of imitation and creative play. I hope to follow that up with finding a real birds' nest for them to see.

The spirituality behind Waldorf

A few months back, Papa Bradstein and I were chatting and he inadvertently dropped a bomb in my mind: he asked, what is the spiritual background of Waldorf education?

I say it was a bomb because at the time I stammered out a few lame sentences, and then we went on to some other topic. And I've been thinking about me stammering ever since. Why can I not explain the background of something that I've been working with for almost 10 years? Is it just too complex, or have I not tried to make enough sense of it?

In either case, I decided to give it a try. Now, in discussing this with Anthropapa, he pointed out that to reduce something like spirituality or child development to a few bullet points is automatically ridiculous: you can't take something organic and interconnected and break it down in a materialistic, reductionist way. But anyway, I'm still doing it! OK now, deep breath as I dive into the pool of decidedly woo-woo stuff that may lose me most of my loyal 5-6 readers...

1. Human beings reincarnate. Therefore a child is not a tabula rasa to be filled with knowledge; on the contrary it is our task to lead them to their own inherent wisdom. Viewing children in this way leads to a profound respect for them as individuals, and acknowledges that intellectual development alone is not the sole reason for education.



2. The human being is comprised of a physical body, an etheric body, an astral body, and an immortal spirit. Waldorf education attempts to bring these bodies into balance through healthy development; mainstream education (and indeed mainstream culture in general) is seen as overly materialistic and intellectualized.
   



3. Humans develop in seven-year phases starting at birth. The first, birth-7, is linked with the will and learning via imitation and physical activity. The second, 7-14, is linked with the feelings and learning via imagination and the arts. The third, 14-21, is linked with the thinking and learning via abstract concepts. Waldorf curricula seek to educate the child in accordance with these developmental stages: for example, there is no "intellectual" teaching in Waldorf kindergartens because the child needs to learn about the world through the senses and in movement.
   



4. To be continued...
   

Thoughts on Waldorf Traditions

As I mentioned a few days ago, I've been editing the Waldorf Education article on Wikipedia. There is a core group of editors, both supportive and critical of Waldorf, who have been involved for many months, working to improve the article's neutrality and breadth of content.

One of the editors who (if we were taking sides outright) would be on the "con" side, has pointed out that in many Waldorf schools, things are done out of tradition or dogmatic following of anthroposophy, the spiritual philosophy that is the basis for Waldorf methods. I've found this to be true as well.

One big example is the Michaelmas festival, which I wrote about here this autumn. I love this festival, which comes at my favorite time of year. I won't go into much detail about it, but the essence of the imagery is that Michael the Archangel overcomes the dragon. There are many metaphorical layers to this image: light vs. dark, spirituality vs. materialism, truth vs. deception.


Most (if not all) Waldorf schools in the US celebrate this festival, as I'm sure do most European ones. This festival is greatly appreciated in the anthroposophical world, and was lectured on many times by Rudolf Steiner, the creator of Waldorf education and anthroposophy.

However, I think this festival is currently celebrated by schools as a matter of tradition, where many other autumn festivals could be worked with equally well. This kind of tradition, coming from Steiner's (and the first Waldorf school's) Western European and Christian background, has been criticized as being overly eurocentric and Christian given the multicultural nature of modern America.

Steiner admonished us to think freely at all times, never to follow dogma or a guru blindly in place of our own free will. If we think freely about the Michaelmas festival, we may see that it is a celebration of light, of spirit. Many other festivals, or even newly created celebrations, could just as effectively represent these universal concepts. Several that come to mind are Hannukah, Divali, and Samhain. Extending the image to harvest time as a gathering of cosmic light into our food, I think of Sukkot, and Lughnasadh.


Don't get me wrong, I think the festivals as celebrated in Waldorf schools are wonderful, full of rich imagery that speaks to our spirits. And if Waldorf schools choose Christian European festivals, I have no problem with that in and of itself if that is the school's conscious choice, perhaps reflecting the composition of the student body. My problem comes when these festivals (and other practices) are chosen simply out of blind tradition, and do not truly speak to the multitude of cultures reflected in our population.

Holiday traditions

It's that time of year again. The time when I struggle to create traditions for our family.

I struggle because there are too many conflicting sources of symbolism, ritual and custom to choose from. I grew up with a completely secular Christmas celebration. Now my mother celebrates Hanukkah, and in the Waldorf community many people celebrate both Advent and the Twelve Days of Christmas/Holy Nights.

One year before the kids were born, we combined Advent and Christmas by putting up a live (in a pot) Christmas tree at the beginning of Advent, and each week added decorations based on the kingdom for that week (mineral, plant, animal, human). That was nice, but impractical now.

With the kids we've started having an Advent calendar, and on their nature table I will be adding the kingdoms each week until it's time for the Nativity figures. We're not religious, but the Nativity is such a basic image of life, birth, light, family, etc. that we've chosen to incorporate it.

The symbols of Christmas are so rich, and so full of ancient wisdom. I love to sing old songs like "Green Grows the Holly", "The Holly and the Ivy", "Deck the Halls" for the kids because they are so full of winter images, pictures of the triumph of life over death. And then the more religious songs are wonderful too. Rebecca sits oh so still and gets a far-off look in her eye when I quietly sing "Silent Night" to her. Even if she doesn't understand all the words, the mood of the melody says something to her.

Then there's Santa Claus. Not an image that has remained unscathed in our materialistic society. However someone once reminded me that he could be seen as a visitor from the spiritual world, flying about the starry heavens bringing gifts from above. So for now, Santa brings the little things in our stockings, and the presents under the tree are gifts for each other. When the kids get a little older I'll bring in the relation to the gifts of the Magi a bit more.

Now that we live in a cold climate, we've started to focus more on snow and winter. Last year we made borax snowflakes, a very cool craft. Candles and strings of lights pop up all over the house to drive back the darkness of the winter.

Another part of the struggle is that we have been away from home every Christmas. We're always with one set of grandparents or another, so it's hard to feel that the home celebrations are complete. We're not home for the last week of Advent, or the week after when I would put the Holy Family and the Three Kings on the nature table. The Advent calendar goes unopened, unless we bring it with us. We've not had a Christmas tree since we're not home to attend to it (and it would just become a big, messy cat toy.)

Light and Dark

I’m finding myself a bit melancholy this autumn. I think in some way I’m experiencing a true autumn, in that the profound changes in nature in this part of the world in this season have really penetrated my emotional life. Though I don't celebrate any festivals honoring the dead like Samhain, All Soul's or Dia de los Muertos, I still find myself thinking about people I know who have passed over the threshold.


Since this area is primarily mixed deciduous forest, we have incredible leaf colors. Burning scarlet maples, yellow walnut and weeping cherry, and every color in between. Our feet scuffle through thick layers of rotting leaves on the forest paths near our home, and the little brooks become clogged and even dammed by the piles of leaves. After rainy days, mushrooms pop up through the earth, and after windy days the paths are littered with sticks and branches.

Though we are blessed with the bluest skies of the year, our attention seems drawn down to the earth along with the falling leaves. The warmth and light of the sun now decreases in the heavens and comes closer to the earth, in the bright colors of falling leaves and autumn harvest foods such as pumpkins and apples.


Autumn seems to me to be a time of hard thoughts. In summer we are more physically active, outside most of the time, and full of the same abundant life forces we see in nature. In autumn, those life forces are dying away in the outer world, and we must struggle to maintain our inner light in the face of the coming cold and darkness.


In Waldorf/anthroposophical communities, we celebrate an unusual yet ancient festival, Michaelmas, at the end of September. In the Bible we can read in Revelation about Michael casting out the dragon from heaven down to earth. This image corresponds to the modern struggle between spirit and materialism, light and darkness. The scaly, cold, earthly dragon opposes the fiery angelic spirit.

I see a correlation between this casting down to earth of darkness and the festivals of light at this time of year. We are surrounded by jack-o-lanterns, bonfires and candles for the dead on Samhain and All Soul’s Day, the lamps of Divali, and lantern walks for Martinmas, another ancient festival celebrated in our community.


Two nice quotes about autumn:

St. Martin recognized the divine spark in the poor man of Amiens, and gave it the protection of his own cloak. When we make a paper lantern, we, too, may fell that we are giving protection to our own little “flame” that was beginning to shine at Michaelmas, so that we may carry it safely through the dark world.
-All Year Round, Druitt, Fynes-Clinton, Rowling.

The season of hope and promise is past…We are a little saddened because we begin to see the interval between our hopes and their fulfillment. The prospect of the heavens is taken away, and we are presented only with a few small berries.
-Henry David Thoreau

Michaelmas time

Autumn is, hands down, my favorite time of year. I'm all about wearing warm clothes, raking leaves, and eating pumpkin pie. It's also the time of my birth, though September 11 is no longer such an auspicious day.

I'm still new enough to the East Coast that I cannot help but make constant comparisons with California, where I grew up. The parts of California where I lived, Los Angeles and Sacramento, do not have autumn really. Summer extends far into October with only slight cooling and the threat of rain by Hallowe'en.

By contrast, we are in the thick of autumn here. Leaves are turning more colorful by the day, temperatures have dropped precipitously, and the chipmunks, sparrows and yellow jackets have a new urgency in their activities.


In anthroposophical circles, now is the time of Michaelmas, where images of the Archangel fighting the dragon abound. We think about courage in the face of the year's dying away, and of the spirit conquering the forces of materialism. The shining, pure, upright, courageous hero overcomes the dark, sullied, cowering dragon.

In my children I see the picture of the will transforming substance: they love nothing more than to dig in the earth, break sticks into firewood for the gnomes, and to hear stories about brave knights conquering evil foes. It's a challenge to balance teaching about non-violence and to support their need for heroic archetypes.


So, last autumn we talked about how Michael doesn't really kill the dragon, he tames him and shows him the way to goodness, truth and beauty. A bit heavy for little ones, but they seem to take in what they can and digest it in their own time. The image of transformation is a strong one in early childhood, as the child transforms his whole self through growth and maturation.

This year SillyBilly for the first time has expressed fears of monsters and witches. We talked about how monsters and mean witches hate beauty and kindness and love. So, we do a little transformation of our home from daily mess to evening neatness, to help keep the monsters at bay. And I explained about good witches who help people with medicines made from herbs.

For me, talking about these things with my children is a little like autumn itself: a little of this and a little of that. On the one hand we have knights and wise women, on the other we have dragons and monsters. The air is chilly but the sun is bright.


These are the words to one of our favorite Michaelmas songs:

When I conquer within me fear and wrath,
Michael in heaven casts the dragon forth.

Firmly on the earth I stand,
Michael's sword within my hand.
When I conquer fear the dragon's chains I tightly bind,
Michael's light within my mind.
When I thrust against the monster's pride,
Michael is at my side.

Reading is Fundamental?

My kids already love books at three and two years old. Papa and I are big readers, so it's only natural that we would read to our kids and have lots of books around. We go to the library regularly and have many of our own kids' books too. I taught myself to read at age 4.

Now, Waldorf early childhood method proponents discourage reading before age 7 or so, because in the first 7 years the child has more of a "picture consciousness." Children in the early years work from the will, meaning through movement, and through imitation. Their life forces are working to form their physical bodies. Once the child hits 7 or 8, their life forces are free to help them develop more intellectual and memory functions (though they aren't really working with pure intellect yet).

So, I've been pondering lately whether we are doing the Huntlings a disservice in reading with them so much. It's true, Papa and I tend to be pretty sedentary, temperamentally speaking. Toddlers however are not sedentary beings and need to play, especially outdoors. Our kids are already fairly verbal and intellectual, so I am wary of over-stimulating that aspect so that they are out of balance.

I came across this item in the latest Utne magazine:

...Sky Hiatt makes a case against literacy, saying that the written word "corrodes time spent exploring the real world" and that raising children on books closes, not opens their minds, causing them to develop "patterns of thought honed into chapters dominated by idea fragments."
-Species Traitor: An Insurrectionary Anarcho Primitivist Journal

Well. I have a friend back in California who is homeschooling her kids partly so that they will experience things before they read about them. I'm not sure how she will work atomic theory into her curriculum, but I respect her thinking. I've looked at birding books with the Huntlings, but we get a much bigger kick out of seeing Robin Redbreast on the lawn or hearing a cardinal peeping at us from the tree by our front door.

There have been times when I consciously tried not to read. When SillyBilly was born he spent several weeks in the hospital, so we made the trip back and forth at least once a day on the highway. One day I decided I didn't want my brain filled with advertising, so I looked everywhere but at the numerous billboards and highway signs. It was incredibly hard to do. I think my brain is wired to look at words if they are available. One year for Lent (a convenient time to do this kind of thing even though we're not Catholic) I gave up reading for pleasure. That was even harder in a way, because I read for relaxation and at the time I had a fairly stressful office job. It was an ingrained habit I struggled to overcome.

So, are we condemning our kids to a life of compulsive reading? Or are we opening up a wonderfully rich world of knowledge and pleasure? Is it all in the timing as the Waldorf folks say?

What is Waldorf Education?

Waldorf education is rooted in Rudolf Steiner's picture of the child as a being of body, soul, and spirit. His intention was to found a school movement, based on spiritual wisdom, to renew the art of education so that modern children could develop the full range of their capacities and become free, self-reliant individuals capable of contributing fresh insights and cultural initiatives to the world.

Steiner developed the Waldorf curriculum as a means of helping the child's spirit and soul to take proper hold of the body, to unfold fully the functions of thinking, feeling and willing and thereby to learn about the world and be active in it in a healthy and constructive way.

Waldorf education proceeds in three major steps as the child's consciousness develops. Up to age 12, it is largely a pictorial and imaginative consciousness; from then on the element of reason arises.

Until age 12, the Waldorf curriculum works with the child's imagination, utilizing fairy tales, legends, fables, Bible stories, ancient mythology and stories from many cultures. In the fifth and sixth grade, the transition is made to actual history and science. From then on, without losing its imaginative and artistic elements, the curriculum is presented in a more scientific manner, increasingly relying on direct observation, objective description and reflection in all subjects.

In developing the first Waldorf School, Steiner set four conditions which are still characteristic today:

1) the school should be open to all children
2) the school should be coeducational
3) the school should be a unified 12-year school
4) the teachers should have primary control of the school, with minimal interference from the state or economic sources.


Sources:
Waldorf Education...An Introduction by Henry Barnes, http://www.awsna.org/education-intro.html

Pine Hill Waldorf School Parent Handbook, http://www.jlc.net/~faiman/waldorf/handbook_philosophy.html