Strangeness can be good because
it can shock us into awareness. Without strangeness, perhaps, we drowsily stay
our courses, despite the imbalances, flaws, or contradictions they may hold.
Deep strangeness shocks us deeply, provoking, perhaps, deep thought and real
change. Superficial strangeness shocks us superficially, and we recoil,
irritated and none the wiser for it.
For Waldorf education, deep
strangeness arises from Rudolf Steiner’s request that we consider the questions
of what it means to be a growing, developing human being and how those of us
who choose to teach or who are called to teach can assist in the humanizing
task we undertake. We are asked to take seriously ideas about angels, about existence
beyond the bounds of this life, about human destiny, about human capacities
that unfold across a lifetime, and about human consciousness. In a world that denies
the value of questions of meaning beyond the personal, trivializes the
humanities, and raises a caricature of science to the status of a new religion,
these are deeply strange considerations.
For Waldorf education, superficial
strangeness arises in prohibitions on black crayons, abuse of gnomes to teach
profound world processes in mathematics, wool socks and Birkenstocks,
pseudo-neo-German expressionist typefaces, meandering, watery paintings, book
jackets, and name tags. The list goes on and on. One version of this list is
now known as Steve’s pet peeves.
The superficial strangeness that
we cast over the deep strangeness of our work is not just amusing, however, nor
is it inconsequential. It replaces a deep, silent regard for the mysteries of
existence, for example, with sectarian chatter about half-understood
Christianity and an imported, alienating crypto-Protestant culture. Things like
this create a shell around us. Because we are not clams, this is not useful to
us or good for us. We may feel warm and safe inside, but then we shouldn’t
wonder that we’re alone.
Hindus do not rub your face in
reincarnation. Nuns do not need to fake reverence by moving and speaking really
slowly. You can’t tell a true shaman by his dress. Those who have truly seen
the light carry it quietly within.
If we live only what we know to
be true, authentically, no matter how little this may seem, and trust that we
can live in not-yet-knowing about many, many things, we can avoid joining a
movement of superficial strangeness and begin to contend with the real
strangeness, the real mysteries at the root of Waldorf education. These are mysteries
that may bring health to our students, health to the world, and even health to
us.
(These remarks were part of an address to the Class of 2012 of the Certificate Program in Waldorf Elementary Teacher Education at Sunbridge Institute, July 28, 2012.)


3 comments:
Hear, hear!
Awesome, awesome post. I'm heartened to read that these were remarks to Sunbridge graduates. If I were you, I'd make photocopies and hand them out at the AWSNA conference this summer, telling people to "talk amongst yourselves" (a la SNL's Coffee Talk)!
This is one of my favorite posts so far!
Zoe
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