Waldorf Education and Anthroposophy II
GA 304a
29 August 1924, London
XI. Educational Issues I
First of all I would like to express my heartfelt thanks to Mrs. Mackenzie for her kind words of greeting, and to all of you who have made the effort to meet again, at Professor Mackenzie’s invitation, to discuss questions of education.
In the short time available little can be said about the educational methods based on anthroposophy, for their essence is in an educational practice that does not have fixed programs, nor clearly defined general concepts to encompass it. The main intention of Waldorf education is that its teachers should be able to look deeply into the nature of the child from a true and genuine knowledge of the human being, and that in the individuality of each child who has come down into the earthly realm, they should be able to experience a wondrous enigma, which the educator and the world can never hope to understand completely. The teacher’s practical task is to discern ways to approach the mystery, the enigma, that divine guiding spirits present us with each child who joins our contemporary society. The teacher’s task begins at the age when the child discards the baby teeth, around the seventh year, and extends until the eighteenth or nineteenth year when, as a young man or woman, the student either goes out into life or enters higher education.
A few years ago, due to the devastating war, many new ideals, and certainly many illusions as well, emerged in Germany. At that time, the industrialist Emil Molt saw an opportunity to do something important for the workers in his factory. He felt that, by opening a school for their children, he could to some extent help reconcile his workers with their destiny as factory workers, and above all do something about what was then the great social demand of the time—he wanted to begin a school for his employees’ children, where the children, although laborers’ children, would get the best possible education imaginable.
This should make it clear immediately that the education I am representing here was not hatched from some ideas or from any plan for reform; it was, instead, born as a direct answer to a practical life situation. Emil Molt simply declared, “My workers have a total of a hundred and fifty children, and these children must be educated in the best way possible.” This could happen within the anthroposophical movement because, as strange as it may sound to you, anthroposophists are neither theorists nor visionary dreamers, but practical people who take the pragmatic side of life seriously; indeed, we like to believe that practical matters are nurtured especially within the anthroposophical movement. In other words, the idea regarding this education was the direct result of a practical need.
In Stuttgart, where all this happened, the necessary conditions for starting such a school were soon created. At that time, a democratic legislation of schools did not yet exist; that came into force only with the subsequent democratically constituted assembly. We came just in time to begin the school before the emergence of a “free” school legislation, which forced a general levelling of all schools in Germany—paying lip service to freedom by enforcing fixed laws. So we were only just in time to open such a school. I must quickly add that the school authorities have always shown great understanding and cooperation ever since the school was founded. It was fortunately possible to begin “The Free Waldorf school” in complete freedom. Its name arose because of its association with the Waldorf-Astoria Factory.
I do not wish to imply in any way that state-trained teachers are inferior, and certainly not that they are poor teachers simply because they have passed a state exam! Nevertheless, I was granted freedom in my choice of teachers, regardless of whether they were state trained or not. It was left to my discretion whether my candidates would make good and efficient teachers, and it happens that most of the teachers at the Waldorf school, based on the educational principles I wish to speak about, are in fact not state trained.
However, the situation did not remain as it was then. The school was begun with a hundred and fifty students. In no time at all, anthroposophists living in Stuttgart also wanted to send their children to this school because the education it offered was supposed to be very good. Since then (only a few years ago) the school has grown to more than eight hundred children. Several grades, like our fifth and sixth grades, have three parallel classes.
A further step, perhaps not quite as practical (I don’t want to judge this) was that Emil Molt, after deciding to open the school, asked me to provide the school with spiritual guidance and methods. It was only possible to give this guidance based on the spiritual research and knowledge of the human being that I represent. Our fundamental goal is to know the complete human being as a being of body, soul, and spirit, as a person grows from childhood, and to be able to read in the soul of the child what needs to be done each week, month, and year. Consequently, one could say our education is a teaching based entirely on knowledge of the child, and this knowledge guides us in finding the appropriate methods and principles.
I can give only general and sketchy outlines here of what is meant by knowledge of the human being. There is much talk nowadays about physical education, about the importance of not sacrificing physical education to the education of the child’s mind and soul. However, to separate the physical aspect from that of the soul and spirit is in itself a great illusion, because in a young child, spirit, soul, and body form a unity. It is impossible to separate one realm from the other in early childhood.
To give an example, let us imagine a child at school; a child becomes more and more pale. The paling of the child is a physical symptom that the teacher should notice. If an adult becomes increasingly pale, one seeks the advice of a doctor, who will think of an appropriate therapy according to an understanding of the case. Teachers of an abnormally pale child must ask themselves whether this child was already that pale when entering the class, or if the child’s complexion changed afterward. Lo and behold, they may realize that they themselves were the cause of the child’s pallor, because of excessive demands on the child’s memory forces. Consequently they will realize that they must reduce the pressure in this respect. Here is a case where physical symptoms reveal problems in the sphere of the soul. The child becomes pale because the memory has been overtaxed.
Then again, teachers may be faced with a different type of child; this time the child does not turn pale; on the contrary, the complexion becomes increasingly ruddy. This child appears to lack good will, gets restless, and turns into what is usually called a “hyperactive” child. The child lacks discipline, jumps up and down and cannot sit still for a moment, constantly wanting to run in and out. It is now up to the teacher to find the cause of these changes, and, lo and behold, it may be found (not always, because individual cases vary greatly and have to be diagnosed individually) that the child had been given too little to remember. This can easily happen because the appropriate amount of material to be remembered varies greatly from child to child.
As it happens, government inspectors visit our school. The authorities make sure that they know what is happening in our school! At the time when socialism was flourishing, one local director of education came to inspect the school, and I took him around to the various classes for three days. I pointed out that our physical education was intended to develop the students’ spiritual capacities, and that we educate their mental-spiritual capacities in such a way that their physical bodies benefit, because the two form a unity. Thereupon the inspector exclaimed, “But in this case your teachers would have to know medicine as well, and that is not possible!” To which I answered, “I do not think so, but if it were indeed necessary, it would have to be done, because a teacher’s training must ensure that the teacher is capable of thorough insight into the physical and spiritual background of the growing child.”
Furthermore, if one has a child of the type just described, a child who becomes increasingly restless and who does not pale but, on the contrary, becomes flushed, one can think of all kinds of things to do. However, to help such a child, one has to make sure of the right treatment. And the right treatment may be very difficult to find, for insight into human nature must not limit its considerations to a certain period of time, such as from age seven to age fourteen, which is the time when the class teacher is with the children. One must realize that much of what happens during these seven years has consequences that manifest only much later. One might choose the comfortable ways of experimental psychology, which only considers the child’s present state of development to decide what to do, but if one endeavors to survey the child’s whole life from birth to death, one knows: When I give the child too little content to remember, I induce a tendency toward serious illness, which may not appear before the forty-fifth year; I may cause a layer of fat to form above the heart. One has to know what form of illness may be induced eventually through the education of the child’s soul and spirit. Knowledge of the human being is not confined to an experiment with a student in the present condition, but includes knowledge of the whole human being—body, soul, and spirit—as well as a knowledge of what happens during various ages and stages of life.
When these matters become the basis for teaching, one will also find them relevant in the moral sphere. You may agree with me when I say that there are some people who, in ripe old age, give off an atmosphere of blessing to those in their company. They needn’t say much, but nevertheless radiate beneficial influence to others merely by the expression in their eyes, their mere presence, arm gestures—saying little perhaps, but speaking with a certain intonation and emphasis, or a characteristic tempo. They can permeate whatever they say or do with love, and this is what creates the effect of blessing on those around them. What kind of people are they?
In order to explain this phenomenon with real insight into human life, one must look back to their childhood. One then finds that such people learned, in their childhood, to revere and pray to the spiritual world in the right way, for no one has the gift of blessing in old age who has not learned to fold his or her hands in prayer between the ages of seven and fourteen. This folding of the hands in prayer during the age of primary education enters deeply into the inner organization of the human being and is transformed into the capacity for blessing in old age. This example shows how different life stages are interrelated and interwoven in human life. When educating children, one educates for all of life—that is, during a person’s younger years one may cultivate possibilities for moral development in old age. This education does not encroach on human freedom. Human freedom is attacked primarily when a certain inner resistance struggles against a free will impulse. What I have been talking about is connected with freeing a person from inner impediments and hindrances.
This should suffice as an introduction to tonight’s theme. When one tries to achieve a more intimate knowledge of human nature, observing it not just externally but also with the inner gaze directed more toward the spiritual, one discovers that human beings pass through clearly defined life periods.
The first three periods of life are of particular importance and interest for education. The first one has a more homogeneous character and lasts from birth to age seven—that is, until the time of the change of teeth. The second period of life extends from the change of teeth to puberty, around age fourteen. The third begins at puberty and ends in the twenties. It is easy to notice external physical changes, but only a trained capacity for observation will reveal the more hidden aspects of these different life periods.
Such observation shows that during the first seven years, roughly from birth to the change of teeth, the child’s spirit, soul, and body are completely merged into a unity. Observe a child entering into this world, with open features still undifferentiated, movements uncoordinated, and without the ability to show even the most primitive human expressions, such as laughing or weeping. (A baby can cry, of course, but this crying is not really weeping; it does not spring from emotions of the soul because the soul realm has not yet developed independently.) All of this makes the child into a unique being, and indeed, the greatest wonder of the world. We observe a baby weekly and monthly; from an undefined physiognomy, something gradually evolves in the physical configuration of the little body, as if coming from a center. Soul qualities begin to animate not only the child’s looks, but also the hand and arm movements. And it is a wonderful moment when, after moving about on hands and knees, the child first assumes the vertical posture. To anyone who can observe this moment, it appears as a most wonderful phenomenon.
When we perceive all this with spiritual awareness, which can be done, it shows us the following: There, in this unskillful little body, spirit is living, spirit that cannot yet control limb movements. This is still done very clumsily, but it is the same human spirit that, later on, may develop into a genius. It is there, hidden in the movements of arms and legs, in questing facial expression, and in the searching sense of taste.
Then we find that, from birth until the second dentition, the young child is almost entirely one sense organ. What is the nature of a sense organ? It surrenders fully to the world. Consider the eye. The entire visible world is mirrored in the eye and is contained in it. The eye is totally surrendered to the world. Likewise the child, though in a different way, is surrendered fully to the environment. We adults may taste sweet, bitter, or acid tastes on the tongue and with the palate, but the tastes do not penetrate our entire organism. Although we are not usually aware of it, it is nevertheless true to say that when the baby drinks milk the taste of the milk is allowed to permeate the entire organism. The baby lives completely like an eye, like one large sense organ. The differentiation between outer and inner senses occurs only later. And the characteristic feature is that, when a child perceives something, it is done in a state of dreamy consciousness.
If, for example, a very choleric father, a man who in behaviors, gestures, and attitudes is always ready to lose his temper, and displays the typical symptoms of his temperament around a child, then the child, in a dreaming consciousness, perceives not only the outer symptoms, but also the father’s violent temperament. The child does not recognize temperamental outbursts as such, but perceives the underlying disposition, and this perception directly affects the finest vascular vessels right into the blood circulation and respiration. The young child’s physical and bodily existence is thus affected immediately by the spiritual impressions received. We may admonish a child, we may say all kinds of things, but until the seventh year this is all meaningless to the child. The only thing that matters is how we ourselves act and behave in its presence. Until the change of teeth, a child is entirely an imitating being, and upbringing and education can be effected only by setting the proper example to be imitated. This is the case for moral matters as well.
In such matters one can have some rather strange experiences. One day a father of a young child came to me in a state of great agitation because (so he told me) his son, who had always been such a good boy, had stolen! The father was very confused, because he was afraid this was a sign that his son would develop into a morally delinquent person. I said to him, “Let’s examine first whether your son has really stolen. What has he actually done?” “He has taken money out of the cupboard from which his mother takes money to pay household expenses. With this money he bought sweets, which he gave to other children.” I could reassure the father that his boy had not stolen at all, that the child had merely imitated what he had seen his mother do several times every day. Instinctively he had imitated his mother, taking money out of the cupboard, because Mother had been doing it.
Whether in kindergarten or at home, we educate the child only when we base all education and child rearing on the principle of imitation, which works until the second dentition. Speaking, too, is learned purely by imitation. Up to the change of teeth, a child learns everything through imitation. The only principle necessary at this stage is that human behavior should be worthy of imitation. This includes also thinking, because in their own way, children perceive whether our thoughts are moral or not. People do not usually believe in these imponderables, but they are present nevertheless. While around young children, we should not allow ourselves even a single thought that is unworthy of being absorbed by the child.
These things are all connected directly with the child as an imitator until the change of teeth. Until then all possibility of teaching and bringing up a child depends on recognizing this principle of imitation. There is no need to consider whether we should introduce one or another Froebel kindergarten method, because everything that has been contrived in this field belongs to the age of materialism. Even when we work with children according to the Froebel system, it is not the actual content of the work that influences them, but how we do it. Whatever we ask children to do without doing it first ourselves in front of them is merely extra weight that we impose on them.
The situation changes when the child’s change of teeth begins. During this stage the primary principle of early education is the teacher’s natural authority. Acceptance of authority is spontaneous on the child’s part, and it is not necessary to enforce it in any way. During the first seven years of life a child will copy what we do. During the second seven years, from the change of teeth until puberty, a child is guided and oriented by what those in authority bring through their own conduct and through their words. This relationship has nothing to do with the role of freedom in human life in a social and individual sense, but it has everything to do with the nature of the child between the second dentition and puberty. At this point it is simply part of a child’s nature to want to look up with natural respect to the authority of a revered teacher who represents all that is right and good. Between the seventh and fourteenth years, a child still cannot judge objectively whether something is true, good, or beautiful; therefore only through the guidance of a naturally respected authority can the students find their bearings in life. Advocating the elimination of a child’s faith in the teacher’s authority at this particular age would actually eliminate any real and true education.
Why does a child of this age believe something is true? Because the authority of the teacher and educator says so. The teacher is the source of truth. Why does something appeal to a child of this age as beautiful? Because the teacher reveals it as such. This also applies to goodness. At this age children have to gain abstract judgment of truth, goodness, and beauty by experiencing concretely the judgments of those in authority. Everything depends on whether the adult in charge exerts a self-evident authority on the child between seven and fourteen; for now the child is no longer a sense organ but has developed a soul that needs nourishment in the form of images or thoughts. We now have to introduce all teaching subjects imaginatively, pictorially—that is, artistically. To do so, teachers need the gift of bringing everything to children at this age in the form of living pictures.
As teachers, we ourselves must be able to live in a world of imagery. For example, let’s imagine that we have to teach a young child to read. Consider what this implies—the child is expected to decipher signs written or printed on paper. In this form they are completely alien to the child. Sounds, speech, and vowels that carry a person’s feelings and are inwardly experienced, are not alien to the child. A child knows the sense of wonder felt at seeing the sun rise. “Ah” (A) is the sound of wonder. The sound is there, but what does the sign that we write on paper have to do with it? The child knows the feeling of apprehension of something uncanny: “Oo” (U).
But what does the sign we write on the paper have to do with this sound? The child has no inner relationship to what has become modern abstract writing. If we return to earlier civilizations, we find that writing was different then. In ancient days, people painted what they wished to express. Look at Egyptian hieroglyphics—they have a direct relationship to the human soul. When introducing writing to the child, we must return to expressing what we wish to communicate in the form of pictures. This is possible, however, only when we do not begin by introducing the alphabet directly, nor reading as a subject, but when we start with painting.
Consequently, when young students enter our school, we introduce them first to the world of flowing colors with watercolor painting. Naturally, this can cause a certain amount of chaos and disorder in the classroom, but the teacher copes with that. The children learn how to work with paints, and through the use of color the teacher can guide them toward definite forms. With the necessary skill, the teacher can allow the shapes of the letters to evolve from such painted forms. In this way, the children gain a direct relationship to the various shapes of the letters. It is possible to develop the written vowels A or U so that first one paints the mood of wonder (or of fright), finally allowing the picture to assume the form of the appropriate letters.
All teaching must have an artistic quality based on the pictorial element. The first step is to involve the whole being of the child in the effort of painting, which is subsequently transformed into writing. Only later do we develop the faculty of reading, which is linked to the head system—that is, to only one part of the human being. Reading comes after writing. First a form of drawing with paint (leading the child from color experience to form), out of which writing is evolved. Only then do we introduce reading.
The point is that, from the nature of the child, the teacher should learn how to proceed. This is the right way of finding the appropriate method, based on one’s observation and knowledge of the child. Our Waldorf school has to do with method, not theory. It always endeavors to solve the wonderful riddle, the riddle of the growing child, and to introduce to the child what the child’s own nature is bringing to the surface. In using this method, one finds that between the second dentition and puberty one has to approach all teaching pictorially and imaginatively, and this is certainly possible. Yet, in order to carry the necessary authority, one has to have the right attitude toward what one’s pictures really represent. For example, it is possible to speak to one’s students even at a relatively early age about the immortality of the human soul. (In giving this example, I am not trying to solve a philosophical problem, but speak only from the perspective of practical pedagogy.) One could say to a child, “Look at the cocoon and its shape.” One should show it to a child if possible. “You see, the cocoon opens and a butterfly flies out! This is how it is when a human being dies. The human body is like the cocoon of a butterfly. The soul flies out of the body, even though we cannot see it. When someone dies, just as the butterfly flies out of the cocoon, so the soul flies out of the body into the spiritual world.”
Now, there are two possible ways that a teacher can introduce this simile. In one instance, the teacher may feel very superior to the “ignorant” student, considering oneself clever and the child ignorant. But this attitude does not accomplish much. If, in creating a picture for the child, one thinks that one is doing so only to help the child understand the abstract concept of immortality, such a picture will not convey much, because imponderables play a role. Indeed, the child will gain nothing unless the teacher is convinced of the truth of this picture, feeling that one is involved with something sacred. Those who can look into the spiritual world believe in the truth of this picture, because they know that, with the emerging butterfly, divine-spiritual powers have pictured in the world the immortality of the human soul. Such people know this image to be true and not a teacher’s concoction for the benefit of “ignorant” students. If teachers feel united with this picture, believing what they have put into it and thus identifying themselves with it, they will be real and natural authorities for their students. Then the child is ready to accept much, although it will appear fruitful only later in life.
It has become popular to present everything in simple and graphic form so that “even children can understand it.” This results in appalling trivialities. One thing, however, is not considered. Let’s assume that, when the teacher stands before the child as the representative and source of truth, beauty, and goodness, a child of seven accepts something on the teacher’s authority, knowing that the teacher believes in it. The child cannot yet understand the point in question because the necessary life experience has not occurred. Much later—say, at the age of thirty five—life may bring something like an “echo,” and suddenly the former student realizes that long ago the teacher spoke about the same thing, which only now, after having gained a great deal more life experience, can be understood fully.
In this way a bridge is made between the person who was eight or nine years old, and the person who is now thirty-five years old, and this has a tremendously revitalizing effect on such a person, granting a fresh increase of life forces. This fact is well-known to anyone with a deep knowledge of the human being, and education must be built on such knowledge.
Through using our educational principles in the Waldorf school in this and similar ways, we endeavor to attune our education of body, soul, and spirit to the innermost core of the child’s being. For example, there might be a phlegmatic child in a class. We pay great attention to the children’s temperaments, and we even arrange the seating order in the classrooms according to temperaments. Consequently we put the phlegmatic children into one group. This is not only convenient for the teachers, because they are always aware of where their young phlegmatics are sitting, but it also has a beneficial effect on the children themselves, in that the phlegmatics who sit together bore each other to death with their indifference. By overcoming some of their temperament, they become a little more balanced.
As for the cholerics who constantly push and punch each other when sitting together, they learn in a wonderfully corrective way how to curb their temperament, at least to some extent! And so it goes. If teachers know how to deal with the various temperaments by assuming, let us say, a thoroughly phlegmatic attitude themselves when dealing with phlegmatic children, they cause in these little phlegmatics a real inner disgust with their own temperament.
Such things must become a part of our teaching, in order to turn it into a really artistic task. It is especially important for students at this age. Teachers may have a melancholic child in their class. If they can look into the spiritual background, in an anthroposophical sense, they may want to find and think through some measure for the benefit of such a child. The education we speak of begins with the knowledge that spirit exists in everything of a physical-bodily nature. One cannot see through matter, but one can learn to know it by seeing its spiritual counterpart, thereby discovering the nature of matter. Materialism suffers from ignorance of what matter really is, because it does not see the spirit in matter.
To return to our little melancholic, such a student can cause us serious concern. The teacher might feel prompted to come up with very ingenious ideas to help the child overcome a particularly melancholic temperament. This, however, can often prove fruitless. Although such a situation may have been observed very correctly, the measures taken may not lead to the desired effect. If, on the other hand, teachers realize that a deterioration of the liver function is at the root of this melancholic nature, if they suspect that there is something wrong with the child’s liver, they will know the course of action necessary. They must contact the child’s parents and find out as much as possible about the child’s eating habits. In this way they may discover that the little melancholic needs to eat more sugar. The teachers try to win the parents’ cooperation, because they know from spiritual science that the beginnings of a degeneration in the liver function connected with melancholia can be overcome by an increased sugar intake. If they succeed in gaining the parents’ help, they will have taken the right step from an educational perspective. It would be necessary to know, through spiritual insight, that an increase of sugar consumption can heal or balance a pathological liver condition.
One must be able to perceive and know the growing child and even the individual organs. This is fundamental in our education. We do not insist on particular external circumstances for our schooling. Whether forest or heath, town or country, our opinion is that one can succeed in a fruitful education within any existing social conditions, as long as one really understands the human being deeply, and if, above all, one knows how the child develops.
These are only a few criteria that I may speak of today, which characterize the nature of Waldorf education and the methods used for its implementation, all of which are based on a spiritual- scientific foundation.
If one can approach the child’s being in this way, the necessary strength is found to help children develop both physically and morally, so that fundamental moral forces manifest also. Barbaric forms of punishment are unnecessary, because the teacher’s natural authority will ensure the proper inner connection between teacher and child. Wonderful things can happen in our Waldorf school to demonstrate this. For example, the following incident occurred a little while ago: Among our teachers there was one who imported all kinds of customary disciplinary measures from conventional school life into the Waldorf school. When a few children were naughty, he thought he would have to keep them in after school. He told them that they would have to stay behind as punishment and do some extra work in arithmetic. Spontaneously, the whole class pleaded to be allowed to stay behind and do arithmetic as well, because, as they called out, “Arithmetic is such fun!” What better things could they do than additional work in arithmetic? “We too want to be kept in,” they declared. Well, here you have an example of what can happen in the Waldorf school where teachers have implanted in their students the right attitude toward work. The teacher of course had to learn his own lesson: One must never use something that should be considered a reward as a punishment. This example is one of many that could be mentioned. It shows how one can create a real art of education based on knowledge of the human being.
I am extremely thankful to Mrs. Mackenzie for giving me the opportunity of at least outlining just some of the fundamentals of education based upon anthroposophical spiritual science. Our teaching is based on definite methods, and not on vague ideals born of mere fantasy. These methods answer the needs and demands of human nature and are the primary justification for our education. We do not believe in creating ideas of what ideal human beings should be so that they fit into preconceived plans. Our goal is to be able to observe children realistically, to hear the message sent to us through the children from the divine-spiritual worlds. We wish to feel the children’s inner affirmation of our picture of the human being. God, speaking through the child, says: “This is how I wish to become.”
We try to fulfil this call for the child through our educational methods in the best way possible. Through our art of education, we try to supply a positive answer to this call.
Über Erziehungsfragen
Sehr verehrte Anwesende, meine sehr verehrten Damen und Herren! Vorerst darf ich herzlich danken für die soeben von Mrs. Professorin Mackenzie gesprochenen freundlichen Begrüßungsworte und dafür, daß sich Mrs. Mackenzie, und diejenigen, die sich im Anschlusse an sie bemüht haben darum, daß Sie, meine sehr verehrten Anwesenden, heute wiederum zur Besprechung von Erziehungsfragen sich hier vereinigen.
Dasjenige, was aus der anthroposophisch fundierten Erziehungsmethode heraus gesagt werden kann in der kurzen Zeit, die uns hier zur Verfügung steht, kann ja eigentlich nicht sehr viel sein. Denn dasjenige, um was es sich dabei handelt, ist eigentlich eine Erziehungspraktik, etwas, was im Grunde genommen gar kein Programm, keine allgemeinen Begriffe hat, mit denen man es umfassen kann, sondern was darinnen bestehen soll, daß innerhalb alles Erziehens und Lehrens der Lehrende und Erziehende mit einer wahren, echten Menschenerkenntnis tief hineinschaut in das Wesen des Kindes und empfinden kann, daß jedes einzelne Menschendasein, das in den Bereich des irdischen Lebens hereintritt, ein wunderbares Rätsel ist, das der Erzieher bis zu einem gewissen Grade, die Welt niemals lösen kann.
Wie nun der Erzieher an die Lösung herantreten soll dieses, man möchte sagen, von der Gottheit den anderen Menschen aufgegebenen Rätsels von seiten eines jeden in die Menschenwelt hereintretenden menschlichen Wesens, das eben soll in praktischer Art durch die Handhabung der Erziehung und des Unterrichts von dem Lehrenden, Erziehenden praktisch wirklich ausgeübt werden, vom volksschulmäßigen Alter, also etwa von dem Kindesalter an, in dem das Kind die Zähne wechselt, um das siebente Jahr herum, bis zum achtzehnten, neunzehnten Jahre, wo der junge Mann oder die junge Dame entweder ins Leben hinaustreten, oder die Hochschule betreten.
Vor einer Reihe von Jahren, als in Deutschland aus den Ergebnissen, die der verwüstende Krieg gezeitigt hat, mancherlei an Idealen, gewiß auch mancherlei an Illusionen im Kleinen und im Großen auftauchte, da war es ein Stuttgarter Industrieller, Emil Molt, der zunächst nun auch etwas tun wollte für seine Arbeiterschaft. Er dachte zunächst daran, seine IndustrieArbeiter dadurch in einer gewissen Weise auszusöhnen mit ihrem ganzen Schicksal und vor allen Dingen auch mit dem, was man damals ansah als soziale Forderungen der Gegenwart, indem er ihren Kindern eine Schule gründen wollte, eine Schule, in der diese Kinder, trotzdem sie Arbeiterkinder waren, die denkbar beste Erziehung bekommen sollten.
Sie sehen, dasjenige, was ich hier zu vertreten habe als eine Erziehungsaufgabe, ist nicht ausgedacht, ist nicht aus einer Reformbewegung hervorgegangen, sondern unmittelbar aus dem praktischen Leben. Emil Molt sagte: Meine Arbeiter haben hundertfünfzig Kinder; die sollen in der besten Weise erzogen werden.
Daß solche Dinge gerade im Zusammenhang mit der anthroposophischen Bewegung geschehen, das kommt davon her, weil wir Anthroposophen, so sonderbar es Ihnen klingen wird, keine Theoretiker und keine Schwärmer, sondern durchaus praktische Leute sind, die es mit dem praktischen Leben ernst nehmen, ja wir glauben sogar, daß die Praxis am allermeisten innerhalb der anthroposophischen Bewegung gewahrt wird. Es ging also unmittelbar eine erzieherische Idee aus einer praktischen Forderung hervor.
Nun waren in Stuttgart, wo das geschah, die Bedingungen bald geschaffen. Es war noch nicht ein demokratisches Schulgesetz in Stuttgart, sondern ein altes, konservatives Schulgesetz, das dauerte bis zur konstituierenden demokratischen Versammlung. Wir kamen gerade noch zurecht, daß wir die Schule begründen konnten, bevor das ganz gute «freie» Schulgesetz kam, das allem Erziehungswesen dann in Deutschland eine Art Nivellement aufgedrückt hat, und die Freiheit dadurch verehrt, daß es sie zum Zwang hinwendet. Nun kamen wir also gerade noch in die Zeit hinein, wo es ging, eine solche Schule zu begründen. Es sind uns die Behörden aber, nachdem die Schule einmal begründet war, immer mit außerordentlichem Verständnis entgegengekommen. Und die Schule, die dann als «Waldorfschule» begründet worden ist, weil sie sozusagen zunächst im Zusammenhange mit der Waldort-Astoria-Fabrik begründet worden ist, konnte in einer ganz freien Weise begründet werden.
Ich will ja nicht gerade behaupten, daß ein jeder gleich ein schlechter Mensch und vor allen Dingen ein schlechter Lehrer sein muß, wenn er ein Staatsexamen abgelegt hat, aber es wurde mir erlassen, bei der Aufnahme der Lehrer darauf zu sehen, ob sie ein Staatsexamen gemacht haben oder nicht, sondern ich konnte lediglich darauf sehen, ob sie in dem Sinne, wie ich mir das vorstelle, richtige, tüchtige Erzieher und Lehrer sein konnten oder nicht. So sind in der Tat die meisten Lehrer an der Waldorfschule, der die Erziehungsmethode zugrunde liegt, von der ich hier sprechen will, nicht staatlich geprüfte Lehrer.
Aber dabei blieb es nicht. Sehen Sie, die Schule wurde mit hundertfünfzig Kindern begründet. Gleich wollten die Anthroposophen, die in Stuttgart sind, nun auch ihre Kinder dorthin schicken, weil doch die Erziehung nun gut sein sollte! Und seit jener Zeit, es ist jetzt ein paar Jahre her, ist die Schule angelaufen auf mehr als achthundert Kinder. Wir haben manche Klassen, wie die fünfte und die sechste, in drei Parallelklassen: a, b, c; haben seither Kinder aus allen Ständen, von den untersten Ständen bis zu den höchsten hinauf; so daß also wirklich die Waldorfschule eine ganz allgemeine Schule geworden ist.
Ein weiteres, und vielleicht war das weniger praktisch, das möchte ich nicht selber beurteilen, ist, daß nun Emil Molt, nachdem er beschlossen hatte, diese Schule zu begründen, zu mir kam und sagte, ich sollte dieser Schule den Geist geben, die Methode. Dies konnte nur geschehen im Sinne derjenigen Geist-Erforschung, Menschenerforschung, Menschenerkenntnis, die derjenigen Geistesforschung zugrunde liegt, die ich zu vertreten habe. Da handelt es sich vor allen Dingen darum, den ganzen Menschen nach Leib, Seele und Geist, wie er heranwächst von Kindheit auf, wirklich zu erkennen und in der Seele des Kindes selber zu lesen, und aus dem, was man in der Seele des Kindes abliest von Woche zu Woche, von Monat zu Monat, von Jahr zu Jahr, dasjenige zu pflegen in Unterricht und Erziehung, was sozusagen aus der Wesenheit des Kindes heraus selber gefordert wird. So daß wir unsere Erziehungsmethode nennen können: eine rein auf Menschenerkenntnis begründete Erziehung und einen ebensolchen Unterricht.
Nun kann ich natürlich nur in ganz allgemeiner Weise skizzieren, was hier unter Menschenerkenntnis verstanden wird. Man spricht ja heute viel davon, wie körperlich erzogen werden soll, wie man nicht die körperliche Erziehung gegenüber der geistigen oder seelischen vernachlässigen soll. Beim Kinde gibt man sich von vornherein einer Illusion hin, wenn man Körperliches und Seelisch-Geistiges voneinander trennt. Denn beim Kinde ist durchaus Geist, Seele, Leib eine Einheit; da kann nichts voneinander getrennt werden! Nehmen wir an, wir haben ein Kind in der Schule sitzen: das Kind wird immer blasser und blasser. Nehmen wir das als Beispiel an: es ist eine körperliche Eigentümlichkeit, daß es immer blasser und blasser wird. Der Lehrer, der Erzieher hat auf diese körperliche Eigentümlichkeit zu sehen. Liegt bei einem Erwachsenen das vor, daß er immer blasser und blasser wird, so geht man zum Arzt, und der Arzt wird je nachdem, was er gerade versteht, an diese oder jene Therapie denken. Der Lehrende, der Erziehende, er muß sich vor allen Dingen darauf besinnen: Ist dieses Kind so blaf, wie es jetzt ist, zu mir in die Schule gekommen? Oder hat es da vielleicht eine andere Gesichtsfarbe gehabt? Und siehe da, der Lehrende, der Erziehende kann darauf kommen, wenn er nur überhaupt Menschenerkenntnis hat, sich zu sagen: Dieses Kind hast du selber blaß gemacht, denn du hast ihm zuviel an Gedächtnisarbeit zugemutet; du mußt die Gedächtnisarbeit vermindern. — Da handelt es sich darum, daß man in dem körperlichen Wesen unmittelbar darinnen sieht, was im Seelischen verfehlt worden ist; denn das Kind wird blaß von Überfütterung mit Gedächtnismaterial.
Oder der Lehrer hat ein anderes Kind vor sich sitzen: es wird nicht blafß, im Gegenteil, es bekommt eine auffallend rötere Farbe als früher, und es wird unwillig, es wird unruhig, es wird das, was man heute ein «nervöses» Kind nennt; es hält keine Disziplin, springt auf zur unrechten Zeit, kann also nicht leicht auf seinem Platze sitzen bleiben, will immerfort heraus- und hereinlaufen. Nun handelt es sich darum, daß man sich besinnen kann darauf, was diese moralischen Qualitäten bei diesem Kinde hervorgebracht hat. Und siehe da, man wird finden können - nicht in allen Fällen, es sind die Fälle eben sehr individuell, sie müssen eben auf individueller Menschenerkenntnis beruhen können, wenn man sie erkennen will, und das, was man über sie erkennen will, muß auf individueller Menschenerkenntnis beruhen -, da wird man sich überzeugen, wenn man sich auf das, was geschehen ist, besinnt: man hat dem Kinde zuwenig an Gedächtnisstoff zugemutet, das kann auch sein, denn das eine Kind braucht so viel, das andere nur so viel.
Nun haben wir auch Schulinspektionen. Die Behörden sehen schon darauf, daß sie wissen, wie es in unserer Schule zugeht. Nun gab es gerade in der Zeit, als der Sozialismus blühte, einen Ortsschuldirektor, der die Schulen revidieren wollte, und mit dem ich drei Tage lang in den verschiedenen Klassen herumging. Ich machte ihm solche Deklarationen, die ihm zeigen konnten, hier wird körperlich so erzogen, daß der Geist dabei gedeiht, und geistig so, daß der Körper dabei gedeiht; das bildet eine Einheit. Da sagte er: Ja, da müßten ja Ihre Lehrer alle Medizin kennen! Das ist doch nicht möglich! - So meinte er. Ich sagte: Ich glaube es ja nicht, aber wenn es notwendig wäre, so müßte es halt eben geschehen; denn es muß einfach die Lehrerbildung eine solche sein, daß der Lehrer tatsächlich restlos in das geistige und physische Wesen des heranwachsenden Kindes hineinschauen kann.
Und weiter: Wenn man solch ein Kind hat, wie das zuletzt erwähnte, das unruhig wird, das nicht blaß wird, sondern im Gegenteil etwas röter wird, so kann man an allerlei Maßregeln denken, aber man muß, wenn man dem Kinde helfen will, auf das Richtige kommen. Und das Richtige verbirgt sich hier sehr stark. Wer nämlich Menschenerkenntnis haben will, darf sie nicht nur haben für den Menschen vom siebenten bis vierzehnten Jahre, während er in die Volksschule geht, sondern gar manches, was zwischen dem siebenten und vierzehnten Jahre sich abspielt, das erfüllt sich erst in viel späterer Zeit. Und wer nicht in so bequemer Weise die Experimentalpsychologie treibt, daß er nur darauf sieht, wie das Kind jetzt ist, was man mit dem Kinde, weil es jetzt so ist, tun soll, sondern wer sich bemüht, das ganze Leben des Menschen von der Geburt bis zum Tode zu überschauen, der weiß: Dieses Kind, das du so erziehst, daß du ihm zuwenig Gedächtnismaterial gibst, das bereitest du dazu vor, daß es ungefähr im fünfundvierzigsten Jahr an einer Fettschicht, die über dem Herzen liegt, ungeheuer schwierige Krankheitszustände durchmacht. Und das muß man auch wissen, was geistig-seelische Erziehung erst nach Jahrzehnten am Menschen unter Umständen erzeugen kann. Menschenerkenntnis heißt nicht, am gegenwärtigen Menschen herumexperimentieren und wissen, wie er sich äußert, sondern Menschenerkenntnis heißt, daß man den ganzen Menschen nach Leib, Seele und Geist kennt, und außerdem den Menschen nach seinen Lebensaltern kenne.
Wenn man diese Dinge zugrunde legt, so merkt man auch, was so etwas im Moralischen für eine Bedeutung hat. Sie werden mir vielleicht auch zugeben: es gibt Menschen, die im hohen Lebensalter, wenn sie irgendwo in einer Gesellschaft erscheinen, etwas Segnendes haben können; sie brauchen gar nicht viel zu sprechen, dadurch, daß sie da sind, daß sie in einer gewissen Weise blicken, daß sie in einer gewissen Weise sich bewegen, die Arme bewegen, einiges Wenige sagen, aber dieses Wenige mit einer gewissen Betonung und mit einem gewissen Tempo sagen, aber das alles, was sie sagen, von Liebe durchdringen können, dadurch werden sie segnend für ihre Umwelt. Was sind das für Menschen? Wer Menschenerkenntnis hat, muß, um das zu erklären, zurückgehen bis ins Kindesalter: das sind diejenigen Menschen, die im Kindesalter in der richtigen Weise die geistige Welt verehren gelernt haben und in der richtigen Weise zur geistigen Welt beten gelernt haben. Denn niemand kann im Alter die Hände zum Segnen aufheben, der sie nicht zwischen dem siebenten und vierzehnten Jahre zum Gebet in der richtigen Weise verstand zu falten. Das Falten der Hände im Volksschulalter geht tief hinunter in die innere Organisation des Menschen und wird im Alter zum Segnen. So hängen die einzelnen Lebensalter des Menschen zusammen. Wer das Kind erziehen will, erzieht zu gleicher Zeit den Greis, das heißt, er macht dem Greis moralisch dies oder jenes möglich.
Das beeinträchtigt nicht die menschliche Freiheit. Die menschliche Freiheit wird am meisten beeinträchtigt, wenn man irgendwelche Widerstände hat, die sich gegen die freie Willensäußerung empören. Diese Dinge hängen einfach damit zusammen, daß man dem Menschen die Hemmnisse und Hindernisse wegschafft.
Damit ist zunächst eine kleine Einleitung gegeben.
Bemüht man sich, in einem solchen Sinne das Wesen des heranwachsenden Menschen intimer kennenzulernen, untersucht man dieses Wesen nicht nur mit der äußeren Anschauung, sondern mit dem auf Geistiges hin orientierten Blick, dann findet man im Kinde deutlich voneinander unterschiedene Lebensepochen.
Zunächst werden für die Erziehung die drei ersten Lebensepochen in Betracht kommen. Die erste zeigt sich ziemlich einheitlich konfiguriert von der Geburt bis zum siebenten Jahre, bis zum Zahnwechsel hin. Die zweite Lebensepoche: vom Zahnwechsel bis zur Geschlechtsreife um das vierzehnte Jahr herum. Die dritte Lebensepoche beginnt mit der Geschlechtsreife und geht in die Zwanzigerjahre hinein. Die äußeren körperlichen Veränderungen bemerkt man ja leicht. Daß aber jede Lebensepoche eigentlich uns den Menschen in einer deutlichen Verschiedenheit davon zeigt, wie er in den anderen Lebensepochen ist, das wird doch erst klar bei einem geschulten Anschauen der Entwickelung der menschlichen Wesenheit. Da zeigt sich, daß der Mensch in den ersten sieben Jahren seines Lebens, also ungefähr von der Geburt bis zum Zahnwechsel hin, Geist, Seele und Leib ungeteilt miteinander vermischt hat. Dasjenige, was an dem Kinde so sonderbar, wenn es in die Welt hereintritt, erscheint — das Kind ist ja tatsächlich das größte Weltenwunder, das man schauen kann -, da tritt es in die Welt herein, unkonfiguriert die Gesichtszüge, unorientiert die Bewegungen, unfähig, die reinst menschlichen Äußerungen zu vollbringen, Lachen und Weinen; Weinen kann das Kind, aber es ist noch nicht ein richtiges Weinen, denn das Weinen entringt sich noch nicht den Seelenuntergründen, denen es sich später entringt, weil die noch nicht selbständig hervorgetreten sind.
So schauen wir das Kind an von Woche zu Woche, von Monat zu Monat: aus der unbestimmten Physiognomie tritt einem allmählich etwas entgegen, wie von einem inneren Zentrum heraus erscheinend, in der körperlichen Konfiguration der Gestalt; das Seelische geht in Miene, Blick, Handbewegung, in die Armbewegungen hinein. Und wunderbar ist derjenige Augenblick, wo das Kind von der Bewegung auf allen vier Gliedmaßen übergeht zu der vertikalen Orientierung. Das ist für jeden, der so etwas beobachten kann, das wunderbarste Phänomen. Das alles so beobachtet, wie es sich für den geistigen Blick beobachten läßt, zeigt uns: Da in diesem Leibe ist trotz der ungeschickten, unorientierten Bewegung der Geist darinnen, eben der Geist, der noch nicht die Glieder beherrschen kann. Er beherrscht sie noch ungeschickt, aber es ist der Geist, der später im Menschen vielleicht sich zum Genie entwickelt, in der Armbewegung, in der Beinbewegung, in dem suchenden Blick, dem suchenden Geschmack drinnen.
Und da stellt sich heraus: Das Kind ist von seiner Geburt bis zum Zahnwechsel fast ganz Sinnesorgan. Was ist das Wesen eines Sinnesorgans? Es ist hingegeben an die Welt. Betrachten Sie das Auge. Im Auge spiegelt sich die ganze sichtbare Welt ab. Da ist sie drinnen. Das Auge ist ganz hingegeben der Welt. So ist das Kind, allerdings in veränderter Weise, aber ganz an die Umgebung hingegeben. Ja, wir Erwachsenen schmecken Süßes, Bittres, Saures auf der Zunge, in unserem Gaumen; es geht nicht bis in den ganzen Organismus hinunter. Man weiß es gewöhnlich nicht, aber wahr ist es: das Kind durchdringt seinen ganzen Organismus, indem es die Milch zu sich nimmt, mit dem Milchgeschmack: es schmeckt mit dem ganzen Organismus. Es lebt überhaupt wie ein Auge, wie ein Sinnesorgan. Die Differenzierung zwischen inneren und äußeren Sinnen tritt erst später ein. Und das Eigentümliche ist, wenn das Kind etwas wahrnimmt, sagen wir, wenn neben dem Kinde ein jähzorniger Vater ist, der die entsprechenden Taten und Gebärden und Attitüden macht, die den Jähzorn ausdrücken, dann nimmt das Kind im träumenden Bewußtsein, mit den Bewegungen des Vaters, mit den Gebärden, mit allen Taten des Vaters zugleich den Jähzorn wahr. Es sagt sich nicht zugleich innerlich: der ist jähzornig, aber den Sinn des Jähzornes nimmt es so wahr, daß diese Wahrnehmung bis in die feinsten Gefäßströmungen, bis in die Blutzirkulation, bis in das Atemleben hinein wirkt. Und der unmittelbar geistig empfangene Eindruck setzt sich fort in dem physisch-körperlichen Leben des Kindes. Wir mögen das Kind ermahnen, mögen zu dem Kinde dies oder jenes sagen, das ist für das Kind ohne Bedeutung bis zum siebenten Jahre. Was wir neben ihm tun, wie wir uns neben ihm verhalten, das ist von Bedeutung. Das Kind ist bis zum Zahnwechsel hin ein nachahmendes, ein imitierendes Wesen, und die Erziehung kann einzig und allein durch Vormachen erfolgen über das Nachahmen. Das geht auch ins Moralische hinein.
Man kann da seine besonderen Erfahrungen machen. Einstmals kam ein Vater eines Knaben zu mir. Er war außer sich, denn er sagte: Mein Junge, der bisher immer ein ganz ordentlicher Junge war, hat gestohlen! Er war ganz verwirrt, denn er dachte schon, eine ganz besondere moralische Schlechtigkeit liege bei dem Kinde vor. Ich sagte: Nun wollen wir erst untersuchen, ob der Knabe wirklich gestohlen hat. Was hat er denn getan? - Ja, er hat Geld genommen; aus dem Schranke, aus dem die Mutter immer Geld nimmt, um damit Dinge zu bezahlen, hat er auch Geld genommen, hat damit allerlei Näschereien gekauft, Süßigkeiten, die er an andere Kinder ausgeteilt hat. - Ich konnte dem Vater sagen: Ihr Junge hat nicht gestohlen; er hat bloß das nachgeahmt, was er jeden Tag so und so viele Male von der Mutter sieht. Die Mutter ist dasjenige Wesen, das er instinktiv nachahmt. Er nimmt auch Geld aus dem Schrank, denn die Mutter tut es. Nur dann, wenn wir alle Erziehung und allen Unterricht bis zum Zahnwechsel auf reiner Nachahmung aufbauen - durch Nachahmung lernt das Kind auch sprechen, durch Nachahmung lernt das Kind alles bis zum Zahnwechsel hin; wir brauchen keine andere Methode, als die: ein Mensch zu sein, den man nachahmen kann -, dann unterrichten wir das Kind, dann erziehen wir das Kind, ob es nun im Kindergarten oder zu Hause ist, am allerbesten. Das geht aber bis in die Gedanken hinein, und das Kind merkt es, wenn wir nur den Gedanken haben, der unmoralisch ist! Man glaubt nicht an diese Imponderabilien, aber sie sind da, sie sind vorhanden. Und wenn wir uns in der Umgebung des Kindes befinden, sollten wir uns keinen Gedanken gestatten, den das Kind nicht in sich aufnehmen kann.
Das sind die Dinge, die zunächst damit zusammenhängen, daß das Kind bis zum Zahnwechsel ein nachahmendes Wesen ist. Auf der Erkenntnis dieses Teiles seiner Wesenheit ruht alle Möglichkeit, in fruchtbarer Weise bis zum Zahnwechsel hin unterrichten und erziehen zu können. Wir brauchen gar nicht nachzudenken, ob wir diese oder jene Fröbelgartenarbeiten an das Kind heranbringen sollen, das ist alles aus dem materialistischen Zeitalter, was da ausgedacht worden ist. Auch wenn wir Fröbelarbeiten machen, so wirkt auf das Kind nicht der Inhalt der Fröbelarbeiten, sondern es wirkt, wie wir es tun, wie wir es ihm vormachen! Und alles, was wir das Kind machen lassen, ohne daß wir es ihm zuerst vormachen, ist überhaupt Ballast, den wir dem Kinde mitgeben.
Anders wird die Sache, wenn der Zahnwechsel eingetreten ist. In dem eigentlich primarschulmäßigen Alter handelt es sich darum, daß das Kind nun in sein Wesen aufnimmt das ihm ganz selbstverständliche Autoritätsprinzip. In den ersten sieben Lebensjahren tut das Kind, was wir ihm vormachen. In den zweiten sieben Lebensjahren, vom Zahnwechsel bis zur Geschlechtsreife, richtet, orientiert sich das Kind nach dem, was ich selber in meinem Sprechen, durch mein ganzes Verhalten als Autorität neben ihm entwickele.
Es soll hier gar nichts gesagt werden über die größere oder geringere Bedeutung der Freiheit im Leben der Menschen, im sozialen oder individuellen Leben, sondern bloß über die Bedeutung desjenigen, was im Wesen des Menschen liegt zwischen dem Zahnwechsel und der Geschlechtsreife. Und da gehört es einfach zur menschlichen Entwickelung, daß das Kind hinaufsehen kann in selbstverständlicher Hingabe zu einer geliebten Autorität, die für es die Quelle der Wahrheit enthält und gültig ist. Das Kind kann zwischen dem siebenten und vierzehnten Jahre noch nicht aus der Intelligenz heraus einsehen, was wahr, was gut, was schön ist, sondern nur einsehen auf dem Wege des Erlebens durch eine selbstverständlich geliebte Autorität. Wer den Autoritätsglauben aus der Schule für dieses Lebensalter heraustreiben will, treibt alle wirkliche und wahre Erziehung, allen wirklichen und wahren Unterricht heraus.
Warum ist für das Kind in diesem Lebensalter etwas wahr? Weil die Lehrer- und Erzieherautorität, die neben ihm steht, es für wahr offenbart. Das ist die Quelle der Wahrheit. Warum ist für das Kind in diesem Lebensalter etwas schön? Weil die Lehrer- und Erzieherautorität es für schön hält. Und ebenso in bezug auf die Güte. Wir müssen zu der abstrakten Auffassung von Wahrheit, Güte und Schönheit durch die konkrete Lehrer- und Erzieherautorität hinüberkommen. Und wie der Mensch ist, ob er eine selbstverständliche Autorität für das Kind zwischen dem siebenten und vierzehnten Lebensjahre ist, darauf kommt ' alles an.
Denn das Kind ist nun nicht mehr Sinnesorgan, aber es hat eine Seele, die alles im Bilde will; im Bilde, nicht im abstrakten Begriff, in der Anschauung, nicht im Denken. Und es kommt darauf an, daß wir in die Möglichkeit uns versetzen, alles im Bilde, das heißt, künstlerisch in die Erziehung und den Unterricht des Kindes für dieses Lebensalter hineinzutragen. Dazu brauchen wir als Lehrer eben die Möglichkeit, bildlich, anschaulich vor dem Kinde die Dinge zu offenbaren.
Da handelt es sich darum, daß wir selber in Bildern leben können. Das geht so weit - ich kann nur Beispiele anführen -, nehmen Sie an, wir haben das Kind heranzubringen an das Lesen, ihm das Lesen zu zeigen. Bedenken Sie, was das heißt: das Kind soll lesen lernen. Das Kind soll Zeichen, die auf dem Papier stehen, entziffern lernen. Die sind ihm ganz fremd. Laute, Töne, die gefühlten, innerlich erlebten Buchstaben, die sind dem Kinde nicht fremd. Das Kind kennt die Verwunderung, wenn die Sonne aufgeht, A. Der Laut der Verwunderung: A, der Laut ist da. Aber was hat das Zeichen, das wir machen auf dem Papier, mit diesem Laut zu tun? Das Kind kennt die Furcht vor irgend etwas, was gruselig ist: U. Aber was hat das Zeichen, das wir auf dem Papier haben zum Lesen, mit diesem Laut zu tun? Das Kind hat kein Verhältnis zu dem, wie die Schrift heute ist.
Gehen wir zurück in frühere Kulturen, finden wir, daß die Schrift nicht so war. Der Mensch malte selbst dasjenige, was er ausdrücken wollte. Sehen Sie sich die ägyptische Bilderschrift an: Die hat Verhältnis zum Menschen. Wir müssen wieder dazu zurückkehren, dem Kinde zunächst dasjenige, was es auszudrücken hat, im Bilde auszudrücken. Das können wir nur, wenn wir nicht beim Schreiben beginnen, und auch nicht beim Lesen, sondern wenn wir beim Malen beginnen.
Und so unterrichten wir so, daß wenn das Kind in die Volksschule hereinkommt, wir es zunächst an die Farben heranbringen. Es ist unbequem, die Kinder machen alles schmierig, aber dem muß man sich fügen. Das Kind lernt die Farben behandeln, und man kann es über die Farbe hin zu den Formen bringen. Es kommen, wenn der Lehrer dazu die Fähigkeit hat, allmählich aus den Formen, die die Gegenstände bedeuten, allmählich die Formen der Buchstaben heraus. Dann bekommt das Kind dazu ein Verhältnis. Man kann das A, das U so entwickeln, daß, indem man zunächst die Verwunderung malt, zuletzt ein A draus wird! So wie auch aus der ersten bildlichen Darstellung der Verwunderung das A langsam geworden ist.
Künstlerisch, vom Bilde ausgehend muß der Unterricht sein. Zuerst muß der Mensch den ganzen Menschen anstrengen im Malen, das dann zum Schreiben übergeht; dann erst diejenige Fähigkeit entwickeln, die bloß mit dem Kopf an einen Teil des Menschen gebunden ist. Das Lesen kommt erst später. Zuerst kommt das malende Zeichnen, zeichnende Malen. Aus dem malenden Zeichnen, zeichnenden Malen wird das Schreiben hervorgeholt, aus dem Schreiben erst das Lesen.
Das liest man ab aus dem Wesen des Kindes, was man zu machen hat. Und so handelt es sich darum, aus der Menschenerkenntnis heraus die Methode zu finden. Unsere Waldorfschule ist eine Methodenschule. Sie geht überall darauf aus, das Kind zu enträtseln, dieses wunderbare Rätsel zu lösen, und dasjenige an das Kind heranzubringen, was die Natur des Kindes selber vorbringt.
Da wird man finden, daß man eben zwischen dem Zahnwechsel und der Geschlechtsreife den Unterricht ganz im Bilde wird halten müssen. Und man kann alles im Bilde haben. Aber man muß sich als Lehrer, um sich die selbstverständliche Autorität zu verschaffen, in richtiger Weise zum Bilde stellen können. Man kann - ich löse Ihnen hier nicht ein philosophisches Problem, sondern ich spreche von pädagogischer Praxis -, man kann zum Beispiel dem Kinde verhältnismäßig früh sprechen von der Unsterblichkeit der Menschenseele, wenn man ihm sagt: Sieh dir die Schmetterlingspuppe an: da hast du die Puppe in einer bestimmten Form. — Man zeige es ihm, je nachdem man es ihm eben zeigen kann. Du siehst, die Puppe öffnet sich, und der Schmetterling fliegt heraus! So ist es, wenn der Mensch stirbt: der Mensch ist wie eine Schmetterlingspuppe; die Seele fliegt aus, man sieht sie nur nicht. Aber geradeso wie der Schmetterling aus der Schmetterlingspuppe ausfliegt, so fliegt die Seele heraus, wenn der Mensch stirbt, in die geistige Welt hinein. - Man kann dies in zweifacher Weise an das Kind heranbringen, einmal so; einmal so, daß man sich als Lehrer sagt: Gott, wie gescheit bist du selbst und wie dumm ist das Kind! - So kann man aber nicht beibringen die Unsterblichkeit der Seele! Drum muß man ihm ein solches Bild machen, und man denkt sich ein Bild aus. Man denkt sich dabei: für das Kind veranschaulicht man halt die Sache, die es noch nicht versteht, man selber glaubt aber natürlich nicht an das Bild. Ja, sehen Sie, das Kind wird dann nichts davon haben, das sind eben die Imponderabilien, die da wirken, das Kind wird nichts davon haben, wenn der Lehrer nicht in derselben innerlichen, ich möchte sagen, Frömmigkeit zu der Sache steht, wie das Kind selber stehen soll. Aber derjenige, der die Welt geistig durchschaut, der glaubt eben selber an sein Bild, denn er weiß, die göttlich-geistigen Weltenmächte haben ein Bild der Unsterblichkeit in dem auskriechenden Schmetterling wirklich hingestellt in die Welt. Das ist Wahrheit. Das ist nicht etwas, das du dir ausdenkst. Steht man selber in alldem drinnen, glaubt man selber an all dasjenige, das man da ins Bild bringt, identifiziert man sich mit seinem Bilde selbst, dann steht man als eine selbstverständliche Autorität vor dem Kinde. Dann nimmt das Kind manches hin, was wiederum erst im späteren Leben in seiner Fruchtbarkeit sich zeigt.
Heute will man ja alles anschaulich machen, so daß das Kind schon es «verstehen» kann. Dadurch kommen furchtbare Trivialitäten heraus. Aber man beachtet dabei vor allen Dingen eines nicht. Nehmen wir an, ein Kind habe in seinem achten, neunten Jahre, wo eben der Lehrende, der Erziehende, die Quelle von Wahrheit, Schönheit, Güte für das Kind ist, irgend etwas aufgenommen, weil der Lehrer daran glaubt, weil der Lehrer es geoffenbart hat, auf Autorität hin aufgenommen. Es kann die Sache noch nicht verstehen, weil die Lebenserfahrung noch nicht da ist. Im fünfunddreißigsten Lebensjahre, lange darnach, bringt das Leben etwas an einen heran; dann sagt man sich: Ach, das hat mir der Lehrer damals gesagt; jetzt, nachdem ich das durchgemacht habe, verstehe ich die Sache!
Was so etwas an vitalisierender Kraft bedeutet, wenn man etwas, was man einst auf Autorität im Kindesalter aufgenommen hat im achten, neunten Lebensjahre, nun im fünfunddreißigsten, vierzigsten Jahre aus den Untergründen der Seele herausholt, so daß eine Brücke geschaffen wird zwischen diesem fünfunddreißigsten und achten, neunten Lebensjahre, was das an Vitalisierung, an Erhöhung der Lebenskraft bedeutet, das weiß wieder derjenige, der Menschenerkenntnis sucht. Und auf Menschenerkenntnis muß alle Pädagogik gebaut sein.
Und so versuchen wir in unserem Waldorfschul-Erziehungsprinzip aus der innersten Wesenheit des Kindes heraus die körperliche, seelische, geistige Erziehung und den Unterricht zu leiten. Da haben wir ein phlegmatisches Kind. Wir achten bei den Kindern ganz besonders darauf, welche Temperamente sie in die Welt hereinbringen. Wir machen sogar die Sitzordnung in der Klasse nach diesen Temperamenten: die phlegmatischen Kinder setzen wir zusammen. Das ist nicht nur ein Anhaltspunkt für den Lehrer, damit er weiß, wo er die kleinen Phlegmatiker hat, sondern auch für die Kinder selbst ist es sehr gut, sie nebeneinander zu setzen. Wenn sie so nebeneinander sitzen und sich mit ihrem Phlegma gegenseitig furchtbar langweilen, wird das ein wunderbares Korrektiv. Die gleichen sich aus, legen das Phlegma ab dabei. Und die Choleriker erst, wenn sie sich puffen und, indem sie zusammen sitzen, gegenseitig ihre Cholerik aneinander ausgleichen lassen, oh, es gibt das eine wunderbare Abklärung dieser Cholerik! Und so weiter, und so weiter. So kann man auch durchaus, wenn man die Sache beherrscht, das phlegmatische Kind so behandeln, daß man mit ihm selber zum Phlegmatiker wird, und daß man das Kind dazu bringt, daß es an seinem eigenen Phlegma Ekel bekommt.
Diese Dinge müssen natürlich in das ganze Leben übergehen, zur Kunst, zum Künstlerischen werden. Gerade in diesem Lebensalter kommt es darauf an. Da hat man zum Beispiel ein Kind in der Klasse, es ist ein kleiner Melancholiker; es sitzt da, man wird vielleicht, wenn man nicht, wie es hier gemeint ist, spirituelle Hintergründe sieht, sich etwas ausdenken wollen. Die Erziehung, wie sie hier gemeint ist, die geht von der Erkenntnis aus, daß in allem Physischen, Körperlichen Geist ist, überall Geist darinnen ist. Man übersieht das Materielle nicht, sondern lernt das Materielle dadurch erst kennen, daß man eben überall in dem Materiellen noch den Geist sieht, und dadurch die Materie entdeckt. Der Materialismus leider gerade daran, daß er die Materie nicht kennt, weil er nicht den Geist darinnen erblickt.
Wir haben also etwa einen kleinen Melancholiker da sitzen. Dieser Melancholiker, der macht uns Sorge. Nun könnten wir ja die geistreichsten Methoden aussinnen wollen, um dem Kinde seine Melancholie abzugewöhnen; aber das führt oftmals gar nicht zum Ziele. Es kann der individuelle Fall ganz richtig betrachtet sein, aber es führt oft gar nicht zum Ziele. Dagegen führt es zum Ziele, wenn ich sehe, da liegt Entartung der Leber vor bei diesem kleinen Melancholiker; die Leber ist da auf dem Wege zur Entartung, ich muß etwas tun. Ich gehe zur Mutter, um herauszubekommen, wie das Kind genährt wird, bespreche mich mit der Mutter, um das herauszubekommen. Ich finde vielleicht heraus: das Kind braucht etwas mehr Zuckerzusatz zur Nahrung. Und siehe da, wenn ich mich mit der Mutter in dieser Weise ins Einvernehmen setzen kann, wenn ich weiß durch eine spirituelle Physiologie, daß durch Beifügung von Zucker Leberentartungen im Status nascendi, im Entstehungszustande ausgeglichen werden können, dann erziehe ich ein melancholisches Kind richtig. Aber ich muß erst durch spirituelle Erkenntnis wissen, daß der Zuckergenuß Leberleiden ausgleicht.
So muß man bis in das einzelne Organ hinein den werdenden Menschen richtig beurteilen können. Das ist dasjenige, was überall bei diesen Erziehungsgrundsätzen zugrunde gelegt wird. Wir suchen nicht besondere Orte auf, suchen nicht auf etwa Wald oder Heide, um da und dort Rücksicht zu nehmen, weil wir der Ansicht sind: man kann dasjenige, was eben wirklich fruchtbar erreicht werden muß für die Erziehung, eben erreichen, wenn man es aus unserer sozialen Ordnung heraus macht, aber da auch wirklich weiß, wie es um den Menschen bestellt ist, wie der Mensch sich entwickelt.
Das sind nur einzelne Anhaltspunkte, die ich heute geben kann, um zu zeigen, wie die Idee dieses Schulwesens, das auf eine geisteswissenschaftliche, auf eine spirituelle Grundlage gestellt ist, und die Methode von dieser Grundlage her nimmt, geartet ist.
Wenn man in dieser Weise auf das Kind einzugehen vermag, bekommt man tatsächlich schon die Kraft, das Kind in physischer, in moralischer Beziehung so zu entwickeln, daß auch die moralischen Grundkräfte zum Beispiel zum Vorschein kommen. Da wird sich ganz von selbst das einstellen, daß man nicht in irgendeiner Weise barbarisch zu strafen braucht, sondern die selbstverständliche Autorität wird sich geltend machen dadurch, daß man in dem richtigen inneren Kontakt mit dem Kinde steht.
So erlebt man dann dasjenige, was wir in unserer Waldorfschule alle Augenblicke erleben, Dinge von solcher Art: Es ist doch einmal ein Lehrer dagewesen, der noch allerlei Allüren aus der äußeren Pädagogik mitgebracht hat. Der denkt, weil ein paar Kinder ungezogen waren, er läßt sie nachsitzen. Er sagt: Ihr müßt hinter der Arbeitszeit dableiben, Rechnungen machen! - Da kommen alle Kinder, und sagen: Wir wollen auch dableiben, auch Rechnungen machen! Denn das ist ja das Schönste, was man tun kann. Was soll man denn Schöneres tun? Wir wollen auch mit Rechnungen machen, wollen da bleiben! — Ja, sehen Sie, da haben die Kinder dadurch, daß man sie in der richtigen Weise anzufassen versteht, eine richtige Gesinnung gegenüber dem, was in der Schule geschieht, und man bekommt als Lehrer die Lehre: man soll nicht mit dem strafen, womit man eigentlich belohnen soll. Das ist nur ein Beispiel für viele. Und so ist es schon möglich, auf Menschenerkenntnis eine wirkliche Erziehungskunst zu bauen.
Ich bin Mrs. Mackenzie außerordentlich dankbar, daß ich wenigstens mit ein paar Strichen in der kurzen Zeit die Dinge andeuten konnte, die einer auf anthroposophischer Geisteswissenschaft begründeten Methodik pädagogischer Kunst zugrunde liegen. Denn nur Methodik will unsere Aufgabe sein, Methodik, nicht irgendein aus irgendeiner Phantasie heraus geborenes soziales Ideal oder dergleichen, sondern dasjenige, was die Menschennatur selber fordert, das wollen wir zum Gegenstand der Erziehung machen. Wir wollen uns nicht vorstellen als Menschen: so oder so muß der Mensch werden aus unserem eigenen Bedürfnis heraus, sondern wollen in richtiger Weise auf das werdende Kind hinschauen können und uns von dem Kinde, das die göttlichen Geistesmächte auf die Welt heruntergeschickt haben, sagen lassen können: so will ich werden. — So spricht der Gott in dem Kinde: so will ich werden.
Diese Frage wollen wir durch unsere Erziehungsmethode für das Kind nach der besten Weise, wie es der Mensch kann, für das kindliche Alter durch pädagogische Kunst lösen. Diese Frage wollen wir mit unserer pädagogischen Kunst beantworten können.
On Questions of Education
Dear attendees, ladies and gentlemen! First of all, I would like to express my sincere thanks to Professor Mackenzie for her kind words of welcome and for the fact that she and those who have worked alongside her have made it possible for you, ladies and gentlemen, to gather here again today to discuss educational issues.
What can be said about the anthroposophically based educational method in the short time available to us here cannot really be very much. For what we are dealing with here is actually an educational practice, something that basically has no program, no general concepts with which it can be comprehended, but which consists in the fact that within all education and teaching, the teacher and educator should look deeply into the nature of the child with a true, genuine knowledge of human nature, looks deeply into the essence of the child and can feel that every single human existence that enters the realm of earthly life is a wonderful mystery that the educator, to a certain extent, can never solve.
How the educator should approach the solution to this mystery, which one might say has been given by the divine to other human beings on the part of every human being entering the human world, is to be practiced in a practical way through the handling of education and teaching by the teacher, the educator, from elementary school age, that is, from childhood, when the child changes teeth, around the age of seven, until the age of eighteen or nineteen, when the young man or woman either enters life or enters university.
A number of years ago, when the devastating war had left Germany with a variety of ideals and certainly also a variety of illusions, both small and large, it was an industrialist from Stuttgart, Emil Molt, who initially wanted to do something for his workers. His initial idea was to reconcile his industrial workers in a certain way with their fate and, above all, with what were then considered the social demands of the present, by founding a school for their children, a school in which these children, despite being workers' children, would receive the best education possible.
You see, what I am advocating here as an educational task is not something that has been thought up, nor has it emerged from a reform movement, but rather directly from practical life. Emil Molt said: My workers have 150 children; they should be educated in the best possible way.
The fact that such things happen in connection with the anthroposophical movement is because we anthroposophists, strange as it may sound to you, are not theorists or enthusiasts, but thoroughly practical people who take practical life seriously. We even believe that practicality is best preserved within the anthroposophical movement. So an educational idea arose directly from a practical requirement.
Now, in Stuttgart, where this happened, the conditions were soon created. There was not yet a democratic school law in Stuttgart, but an old, conservative school law, which lasted until the constituent democratic assembly. We just managed to establish the school before the very good “free” school law came into force, which then imposed a kind of leveling on the entire education system in Germany, and revered freedom by turning it into compulsion. So we just managed to get into the period when it was possible to establish such a school. However, once the school had been established, the authorities always treated us with extraordinary understanding. And the school, which was then founded as a “Waldorf school” because it was initially established in connection with the Waldort-Astoria factory, so to speak, was able to be established in a completely free manner.
I don't want to claim that everyone who has passed a state examination must be a bad person and, above all, a bad teacher, but I was exempted from checking whether teachers had passed a state examination when accepting them. Instead, I could only check whether they could be proper, capable educators and teachers in the sense that I imagined. In fact, most of the teachers at the Waldorf School, which is based on the educational method I want to talk about here, are not state-certified teachers.
But it didn't stop there. You see, the school was founded with 150 children. The anthroposophists in Stuttgart immediately wanted to send their children there too, because the education was supposed to be good! And since that time, a few years ago now, the school has grown to more than eight hundred children. We have some classes, such as the fifth and sixth grades, in three parallel classes: a, b, c; since then we have had children from all walks of life, from the lowest to the highest, so that the Waldorf School has really become a very general school.
Another thing, and perhaps this was less practical, I don't want to judge that myself, is that Emil Molt, after he had decided to found this school, came to me and said that I should give this school its spirit, its method. This could only happen in the sense of the research into the spirit, the research into human beings, the knowledge of human beings, which underlies the spiritual research that I represent. This involves, above all, truly recognizing the whole human being—body, soul, and spirit—as he or she grows up from childhood, reading the child's soul itself, and, from what one reads in the child's soul from week to week, month to month, year to year, cultivating in teaching and education what is, so to speak, demanded by the child's own nature. So we can call our educational method: an education and teaching based purely on knowledge of the human being.
Of course, I can only outline in very general terms what is meant here by knowledge of the human being. Today, there is much talk about how physical education should be provided, how physical education should not be neglected in favor of intellectual or spiritual education. With children, it is an illusion to separate the physical from the mental and spiritual. For in children, the mind, soul, and body are one; nothing can be separated! Let us suppose we have a child sitting in school: the child is becoming paler and paler. Let us take this as an example: it is a physical peculiarity that it is becoming paler and paler. The teacher, the educator, must pay attention to this physical peculiarity. If an adult is becoming paler and paler, one goes to the doctor, and the doctor will consider this or that therapy, depending on what he or she understands. The teacher, the educator, must first and foremost consider: Did this child come to my school as pale as it is now? Or did it perhaps have a different complexion? And lo and behold, the teacher, the educator, can come to the conclusion, if he or she has any knowledge of human nature at all, to say to himself or herself: You yourself have made this child pale, because you have expected too much of its memory; you must reduce the amount of memory work. — It is a matter of seeing immediately in the physical being what has been neglected in the soul, for the child becomes pale from being overfed with memory material.
Or the teacher has another child sitting in front of him: it does not turn pale, on the contrary, it takes on a noticeably redder color than before, and it becomes unwilling, it becomes restless, it becomes what we today call a “nervous” child; it cannot maintain discipline, jumps up at the wrong time, cannot easily remain seated in its place, and constantly wants to run in and out. Now it is a matter of reflecting on what has brought about these moral qualities in this child. And lo and behold, one will find—not in all cases, for the cases are very individual and must be based on individual knowledge of human nature if one wants to recognize them, and what one wants to recognize about them must be based on individual knowledge of human nature—one will be convinced, if one reflects on what has happened: the child was not given enough material to memorize, which may well be the case, because one child needs so much, another only so much.
Now we also have school inspections. The authorities make sure that they know what is going on in our school. Now, just at the time when socialism was flourishing, there was a local school director who wanted to inspect the schools, and with whom I spent three days going around the different classes. I made statements to him that showed him that here, physical education is taught in such a way that the mind flourishes, and mental education in such a way that the body flourishes; this forms a unity. He said: Yes, but then your teachers would all have to know medicine! That's not possible! – That's what he thought. I said: I don't believe so, but if it were necessary, then it would have to be done; for teacher training must be such that the teacher can actually see completely into the spiritual and physical nature of the growing child.
And further: If you have a child like the one mentioned last, who becomes restless, who does not turn pale but, on the contrary, becomes a little redder, you can think of all kinds of measures, but if you want to help the child, you have to find the right one. And the right one is very well hidden here. For those who want to understand human nature must not only understand children between the ages of seven and fourteen, while they are attending elementary school, but also many things that take place between the ages of seven and fourteen, which only come to fruition much later in life. And those who do not practice experimental psychology in such a convenient way that they only look at how the child is now and what should be done with the child because it is now like that, but who strive to survey the whole life of the human being from birth to death, know that This child, whom you are raising in such a way that you give him too little material to remember, you are preparing to suffer from extremely difficult medical conditions at around the age of forty-five due to a layer of fat covering his heart. And one must also know what spiritual and emotional education can produce in a person after decades. Knowledge of human nature does not mean experimenting on the present human being and knowing how he expresses himself, but knowledge of human nature means knowing the whole human being in body, soul, and spirit, and also knowing the human being according to his stages of life.
If you take these things as a basis, you will also realize what significance this has in moral terms. You will perhaps also agree with me that there are people who, in their old age, when they appear somewhere in society, can have something blessing about them; they do not need to say much, but by their very presence, by the way they look, by the way they move, by the way they move their arms, by saying a few words, but saying those few words with a certain emphasis and at a certain pace, and by imbuing everything they say with love, they become a blessing to those around them. What kind of people are these? Anyone who understands human nature must go back to childhood to explain this: these are people who learned to revere the spiritual world in the right way during childhood and learned to pray to the spiritual world in the right way. For no one can raise their hands to bless in old age who did not learn to fold them in the right way for prayer between the ages of seven and fourteen. The folding of the hands in elementary school age goes deep into the inner organization of the human being and becomes blessing in old age. Thus, the individual stages of human life are connected. Whoever wants to educate the child educates the old man at the same time, that is, he makes this or that morally possible for the old man.
This does not impair human freedom. Human freedom is most impaired when there are any obstacles that rebel against the free expression of will. These things are simply related to the fact that one removes the inhibitions and obstacles from human beings.
This is a brief introduction.
If one endeavors to get to know the nature of the growing human being more intimately in this sense, examining this nature not only with an external view but with a view oriented toward the spiritual, then one finds clearly distinct stages of life in the child.
First of all, the first three stages of life will be considered for education. The first is fairly uniform in configuration from birth to the age of seven, until the change of teeth. The second stage of life: from the change of teeth to sexual maturity around the age of fourteen. The third stage of life begins with sexual maturity and continues into the twenties. The external physical changes are easy to notice. However, the fact that each stage of life actually shows us the human being in a distinctly different way from how they are in the other stages of life only becomes clear when we take a trained look at the development of the human being. It becomes apparent that in the first seven years of their life, i.e., from birth until the change of teeth, the human being has a spirit, soul, and body that are undivided and intermingled. What seems so strange about the child when it enters the world — the child is indeed the greatest wonder of the world that can be seen — is that it enters the world with unformed facial features, uncoordinated movements, and an inability to perform the most basic human expressions, such as laughing and crying. The child can cry, but it is not yet a real cry, for the cry does not yet spring from the depths of the soul, from which it will later spring, because those depths have not yet emerged independently.
So we look at the child from week to week, from month to month: from the indeterminate physiognomy, something gradually emerges, as if appearing from an inner center, in the physical configuration of the form; the soul enters into the expression, the gaze, the hand movements, the arm movements. And the moment when the child transitions from moving on all fours to vertical orientation is a wonderful one. For anyone who can observe such a thing, it is the most wonderful phenomenon. Observing all this as it can be observed by the spiritual eye shows us: Despite the clumsy, disoriented movement, the spirit is present in this body, the very spirit that cannot yet control the limbs. It still controls them clumsily, but it is the spirit that may later develop into genius in humans, in the movement of the arms, in the movement of the legs, in the searching gaze, in the searching taste within.
And it turns out that from birth until the change of teeth, the child is almost entirely a sensory organ. What is the essence of a sensory organ? It is devoted to the world. Consider the eye. The entire visible world is reflected in the eye. It is inside. The eye is completely devoted to the world. So is the child, albeit in a different way, but completely devoted to its surroundings. Yes, we adults taste sweet, bitter, sour on our tongue, in our palate; it does not go down into the whole organism. We don't usually know it, but it's true: the child permeates its entire organism by drinking milk, with the taste of milk: it tastes with its entire organism. It lives like an eye, like a sensory organ. The differentiation between inner and outer senses only occurs later. And the peculiar thing is that when the child perceives something, let's say when there is a quick-tempered father next to the child who makes the corresponding gestures and attitudes that express quick temper, then the child perceives the quick temper in its dreaming consciousness, along with the father's movements, gestures, and all of the father's actions. It does not say to itself at the same time: he is quick-tempered, but it perceives the meaning of quick-temperedness in such a way that this perception affects even the finest vascular currents, the blood circulation, and the respiratory life. And the impression received directly by the mind continues in the physical life of the child. We may admonish the child, we may say this or that to the child, but this is of no significance to the child until the age of seven. What we do beside him, how we behave beside him, that is what is important. Until the change of teeth, the child is an imitative being, and education can only take place through example and imitation. This also applies to morality.
One can have special experiences in this regard. Once, the father of a boy came to me. He was beside himself, saying: My boy, who had always been a very decent boy, has stolen! He was completely confused, because he thought that the child was capable of a very special moral wickedness. I said, “First, let's find out whether the boy really stole. What did he do?” “Yes, he took money; he took money from the cupboard where his mother always takes money to pay for things, and he bought all kinds of snacks and sweets, which he gave to other children.” I was able to tell the father: Your boy did not steal; he merely imitated what he sees his mother do so many times every day. His mother is the person he instinctively imitates. He also takes money from the cupboard because his mother does it. Only when we base all education and teaching up to the age of six on pure imitation—through imitation, the child also learns to speak; through imitation, the child learns everything up to the age of six— we need no other method than this: to be a person who can be imitated – then we teach the child, then we educate the child, whether in kindergarten or at home, in the very best way. But this extends into our thoughts, and the child notices when we have thoughts that are immoral! People don't believe in these imponderables, but they are there, they exist. And when we are in the child's environment, we should not allow ourselves to have thoughts that the child cannot absorb.
These are the things that are initially related to the fact that the child is an imitative being until it loses its baby teeth. The realization of this part of its nature is the basis for all possibilities of teaching and educating it in a fruitful way until it loses its baby teeth. We do not need to think about whether we should introduce the child to this or that Fröbel garden activity; these are all ideas that have been devised in the materialistic age. Even if we do Fröbel activities, it is not the content of the Fröbel activities that has an effect on the child, but how we do them, how we demonstrate them to the child! And everything we let the child do without first showing them how is just ballast that we are giving the child.
Things change once the child has lost their baby teeth. At what is actually primary school age, the child now absorbs the principle of authority, which is completely natural to them. In the first seven years of life, the child does what we show them. In the second seven years of life, from the change of teeth to sexual maturity, the child orientates themselves according to what I myself develop in my speech and through my entire behavior as an authority figure beside them.
Nothing is to be said here about the greater or lesser importance of freedom in human life, in social or individual life, but only about the importance of what lies in the nature of human beings between the change of teeth and sexual maturity. And it is simply part of human development that the child can look up in natural devotion to a beloved authority figure who is the source of truth and validity for them. Between the ages of seven and fourteen, children cannot yet understand what is true, good, and beautiful through their own intelligence, but only through experience with a naturally beloved authority figure. Anyone who wants to drive the belief in authority out of school for this age group drives out all real and true education, all real and true teaching.
Why is something true for the child at this age? Because the authority of the teacher and educator standing beside them reveals it to be true. That is the source of truth. Why is something beautiful for the child at this age? Because the authority of the teacher and educator considers it to be beautiful. And the same applies to goodness. We must move beyond the abstract concept of truth, goodness, and beauty through the concrete authority of teachers and educators. And how a person is, whether they are a natural authority for children between the ages of seven and fourteen, is what matters most.For the child is no longer a sensory organ, but has a soul that wants everything in images; in images, not in abstract concepts, in perception, not in thinking. And it is important that we put ourselves in a position to bring everything into the education and teaching of the child at this age in images, that is, artistically. To do this, we as teachers need the ability to reveal things to the child in a pictorial, vivid way.
It is a matter of us ourselves being able to live in images. This goes so far – I can only give examples – suppose we want to teach the child to read, to show them how to read. Consider what that means: the child should learn to read. The child should learn to decipher symbols on paper. These are completely foreign to them. Sounds, tones, letters that are felt and experienced internally are not foreign to the child. The child knows the wonder when the sun rises, A. The sound of wonder: A, the sound is there. But what does the symbol we make on paper have to do with this sound? The child knows the fear of something that is scary: U. But what does the symbol we have on paper for reading have to do with this sound? The child has no relationship to how writing is today.
If we go back to earlier cultures, we find that writing was not like that. People painted what they wanted to express themselves. Look at Egyptian pictorial writing: it has a relationship to human beings. We must return to expressing what the child has to express in pictures first. We can only do this if we don't start with writing, or even reading, but with painting.
And so we teach in such a way that when the child enters elementary school, we first introduce them to colors. It's inconvenient, the children make everything messy, but you have to accept that. The child learns to handle colors, and we can lead them from color to shapes. If the teacher has the ability to do so, the shapes that represent objects gradually give way to the shapes of letters. Then the child develops a relationship to them. We can develop the A and the U in such a way that, by first painting wonder, we end up with an A! Just as the first pictorial representation of wonder slowly became the letter A.
Teaching must be artistic, starting from the image. First, the whole person must be engaged in painting, which then transitions to writing; only then can the ability that is tied solely to the head and to one part of the person be developed. Reading comes later. First comes painting-drawing, drawing-painting. Writing is brought out of painting-drawing, drawing-painting, and reading only comes after writing.
One reads from the nature of the child what one has to do. And so it is a matter of finding the method from the knowledge of the human being. Our Waldorf school is a school of methods. It aims in every way to unravel the child, to solve this wonderful mystery, and to bring to the child what the child's own nature brings forth.
One will find that between the change of teeth and sexual maturity, teaching must be kept entirely in the realm of images. And everything can be kept in the realm of images. But as a teacher, in order to gain the authority that comes naturally, you have to be able to present the picture in the right way. You can — I'm not solving a philosophical problem here, but talking about educational practice — you can, for example, talk to the child relatively early on about the immortality of the human soul, if you say to them: Look at the butterfly chrysalis: there you have the chrysalis in a certain form. — Show it to them, depending on how you can show it to them. You see, the chrysalis opens and the butterfly flies out! That's how it is when a person dies: a person is like a butterfly chrysalis; the soul flies out, you just can't see it. But just as the butterfly flies out of the butterfly chrysalis, so the soul flies out when a person dies, into the spiritual world. You can explain this to the child in two ways, one way being this, and the other way being that as a teacher you say to yourself: God, how clever you are and how stupid the child is! But you cannot teach the immortality of the soul that way! So you have to create an image for them, and you think up an image. You think to yourself: for the child, you simply illustrate the thing that it does not yet understand, but of course you yourself do not believe in the image. Yes, you see, the child will then gain nothing from it; these are the imponderables that are at work here. The child will gain nothing from it if the teacher does not have the same inner, I would say, piety towards the matter as the child itself should have. But those who see through the world spiritually believe in their image themselves, because they know that the divine spiritual powers of the world have truly placed an image of immortality in the world in the form of the emerging butterfly. That is the truth. It is not something you make up. If you yourself are involved in all this, if you yourself believe in everything you bring into the picture, if you identify with your own image, then you stand before the child as a natural authority. Then the child accepts many things, which in turn will only show their fruitfulness later in life.
Today, people want to make everything vivid so that the child can already “understand” it. This results in terrible trivialities. But one thing in particular is overlooked. Let's assume that a child in its eighth or ninth year, when the teacher, the educator, is the source of truth, beauty, and goodness for the child, has absorbed something because the teacher believes in it, because the teacher has revealed it, absorbed it on authority. The child cannot yet understand the matter because it does not yet have the life experience. At the age of thirty-five, long afterwards, life brings something to mind; then one says to oneself: Oh, that's what the teacher told me back then; now that I've been through it, I understand it!
What a vitalizing force it is when something that was once accepted on authority in childhood, at the age of eight or nine, ninth year of life, now in your thirty-fifth or fortieth year, from the depths of your soul, so that a bridge is created between this thirty-fifth and eighth or ninth year of life, what that means in terms of revitalization, of increasing your vitality, is known to those who seek knowledge of human nature. And all pedagogy must be based on knowledge of human nature.
And so, in our Waldorf school educational principle, we try to guide physical, emotional, and intellectual education and teaching from the innermost essence of the child. We have a phlegmatic child. We pay particular attention to the temperaments that children bring into the world. We even arrange the seating in the classroom according to these temperaments: we seat the phlegmatic children together. This is not only a reference point for the teacher, so that he knows where the little phlegmatic children are, but it is also very good for the children themselves to be seated next to each other. When they sit next to each other and bore each other terribly with their phlegmatic nature, it becomes a wonderful corrective. They balance each other out and shed their phlegmatic nature in the process. And the choleric children, when they puff themselves up and, by sitting together, allow their choleric nature to balance each other out, oh, there is a wonderful clarification of this choleric nature! And so on, and so on. So, if you know how to handle it, you can treat the phlegmatic child in such a way that you yourself become phlegmatic, and that you make the child disgusted with its own phlegmatic nature.
These things must, of course, be integrated into life as a whole, becoming art, becoming artistic. This is particularly important at this age. For example, you have a child in your class who is a little melancholic; he sits there, and if you don't see the spiritual background, as is meant here, you might want to come up with something. Education, as meant here, starts from the realization that there is spirit in everything physical, bodily, that spirit is everywhere. One does not overlook the material, but rather learns about the material by seeing the spirit everywhere in the material, and thereby discovering matter. Materialism, unfortunately, does not know matter because it does not see the spirit within it.
So we have a little melancholic sitting there. This melancholic child causes us concern. Now we could try to devise the most ingenious methods to cure the child of his melancholy, but that often does not lead to the desired result. The individual case may be considered quite correctly, but it often does not lead to the desired result. On the other hand, it does lead to the goal if I see that this little melancholic child has liver degeneration; the liver is on the way to degeneration, I have to do something. I go to the mother to find out how the child is being fed, I talk to the mother to find this out. I may find out that the child needs a little more sugar added to its food. And lo and behold, if I can come to an agreement with the mother in this way, if I know through spiritual physiology that by adding sugar, liver degeneration in its nascent stage can be compensated for, then I am raising a melancholic child correctly. But I must first know through spiritual insight that the consumption of sugar compensates for liver disease.Thus, one must be able to correctly assess the developing human being down to the individual organ. This is what underlies all of these educational principles. We do not seek out special places, such as forests or heaths, to take certain considerations into account, because we believe that what really needs to be achieved for education can be achieved if it is done within our social order, but also if we really know what the situation of human beings is and how they develop.
These are just a few pointers I can give today to show the nature of this school system, which is based on spiritual science and spiritual foundations, and which takes its method from these foundations.
If you are able to respond to the child in this way, you will actually gain the strength to develop the child physically and morally in such a way that the basic moral forces, for example, also come to the fore. It will then become quite natural that there is no need to punish in any barbaric way, but that one's natural authority will assert itself through being in the right inner contact with the child.
This is how one experiences what we experience every moment in our Waldorf school, things of this kind: There was once a teacher who brought with him all kinds of airs and graces from external pedagogy. He thinks that because a few children were naughty, he will make them stay behind after school. He says: You must stay behind after school and do arithmetic! Then all the children come and say: We want to stay behind too and do arithmetic! Because that is the most beautiful thing you can do. What could be more enjoyable? We want to do math too, we want to stay! — Yes, you see, by treating the children in the right way, they develop the right attitude towards what happens at school, and as a teacher you learn that you should not punish with what you should actually be rewarding. This is just one example of many. And so it is possible to build a real art of education on knowledge of human nature.
I am extremely grateful to Mrs. Mackenzie for allowing me to outline, at least in a few strokes, the things that underlie a methodology of pedagogical art based on anthroposophical spiritual science. For our task is to be methodology alone, methodology, not some social ideal born of some fantasy or the like, but that which human nature itself demands; that is what we want to make the object of education. We do not want to imagine ourselves as human beings: this is how human beings must become, based on our own needs, but we want to be able to look at the developing child in the right way and let the child, whom the divine spiritual powers have sent down to the world, tell us: this is how I want to become. — Thus speaks the God in the child: this is how I want to become.
We want to solve this question through our educational method for the child in the best way that human beings can, for the child's age, through the art of education. We want to be able to answer this question with our educational art.
