Dear Asher,

You are 4! Of course I am amazed by this, but also excited, for every day I see the world opening up more and more to you. You are becoming your own little master and you are a mighty force of a boy!

So much has happened since your last birthday. You’ve traveled so far. No longer do you want to be called “Baby Asher,” or “my baby.” You are a Big Boy now, except when you’re feeling small or a little challenged, and then you quietly tell me you are a Little Boy. This doesn’t happen often, however. You boldly march into almost all situations with your head held high and a battle cry on your lips. You are ready for nearly anything, nearly anytime. You are your brother’s powerful sidekick—what superhero would that be? Surely you are more competent than Robin.

In the last year you have continued to perfect your language skills. Now you talk constantly, giving us precious insight into your blossoming personality and miraculous imagination. You are a man of adventure, at least in your own private world, which you call Dreamland. There, anything is possible for you. There, you are all-powerful. Thanks to your daring-do, monsters are vanquished. Maidens are saved. Ninjas are defeated. Bad Guys quickly are made to regret their poor life choices. You tell us all about it. We in your family try to keep up, but we’ve learned that Dreamland is a fluid place, where continents shift and volcanoes erupt. Rules are very different there, and yet you have set yourself up with seven moms and seven dads. I suspect this is so that you can take on the most perilous missions and still feel you are being supervised, besides, in Dreamland you get to boss them all around. I should say, Dreamland stories can last for ten minutes or more, nonstop. I know that in Dreamland, candy dinners are often served.

Not only are your storytelling muscles being exercised daily, but also your sense of humor is blooming, too. You get jokes and often laugh uproariously. You tell jokes, too, sometimes playing on words and often making a point of saying something controversial, like “butt” or “poo poo head.” You smile and laugh easily. The world seems to hold so much enjoyment for you, and I hope this will be true for you your whole life!

You are perfecting numerous methods by which you can get your brother’s goat. And although I wish it were otherwise, your bickering is in full force now. I don’t like it when you two fight, but it seems to be an unstoppable part living with a brother. I think it means that you are starting to hold your own in this household. Lucas isn’t always the ring leader and you are not always the follower, as it might at first seem. You start disagreements and pick on him, just as he does you. I merely have to turn my head a moment to discover the two of you, clutching sticks and whacking each other for all you’re worth.

In all of your daily activities, you are showing marvelous growth. You are physically strong and growing tall. You used to be such a picky eater, preferring meat always. Your repertoire of vegetables you eat is expanding all the time, and I must admit I’m happy to see it. Now you enjoy raw carrots (while playing bunny), bread and butter pickles, apples, pears, kiwi fruits, celery, broccoli, green beans, lettuce, spinach, and potatoes. You’re not thrilled about it, but you will choke down a small portion of greens or cabbage, especially if doing so gets you an after-dinner cookie. And this is enough for now. I’m not at all worried about your eating habits. We just have to make sure to continue to offer you healthy fruits and veggies every day and you will do the rest. In any case, you are not a meek child who waits to be noticed. When you are hungry or thirsty, you’re very clear about it. You make your needs and your preferences known. We’re working on getting you to use better manners about it.

Your sleeping patterns are changing now, which is something I remember from when Lucas was your age. You had become quite accustomed to sleeping alone in your bed. Then last winter we moved your brother into your bedroom and now you have to share. Lucas gets the top bunk and you get the bottom, which is dark and cozy and soft. At first, the excitement of sharing a room was overwhelming and you both elected to sleep together, usually in Lucas’s bed once we determined you wouldn’t fall out. Gradually, though, Lucas wished for more space of his own (and discovered what a little furnace you are when you’re sleeping). Getting used to sleeping without Lucas in bed with you has been hard. Now that you are nearly 4, you have bad dreams pretty often, or have to go potty in the night, and you wake up. Lately you’ve been joining Mama and Daddy in bed at 4 a.m. or 2 a.m. This is hard on Daddy. You have a tendency to bicycle your legs to get the covers off, and in the process you kick people. (Maybe this is why Lucas doesn’t want you sleeping with him anymore.) We’re working through it. We don’t really want to tell you no right now, as you’re kind of afraid of the dark and don’t like being alone. And so, we cope.

You now like to do all kinds of things by yourself, like dressing in your outer coat and putting on your slip-on galoshes. One day recently you were so adamant that you didn’t need any help at all, and yet your jacket sleeves were both inside out. You worked on putting on that coat for 15 minutes solid—and as you struggled you got more and more angry that it wasn’t working! You knew how to put it on; it had worked for you so many times before! Why not now? Tears were flowing and I finally was able to sneak in there and help you turn the sleeves right-side out. You got the jacket on, but you were livid that I had dared to interfere! You bawled me out for an hour after that.

You’re doing great in the potty now; six months ago was a very different time. You’re completely out of diapers and only sometimes have nighttime accidents. Most of the time, you manage everything by yourself now, unless you feel like having company along.

Oh my, how you play! Your imagination is off the charts. You switch between being a dragon, a rabbit, an astronaut, and a ninja in mere seconds, if you wish. Or you let one idea take hold and carry you all through the day. I frequently play the supporting role of mama rabbit, mama dragon, mama chicken, etc. I’m used to being just outside your spotlight. Daddy gets to be the daddy fill-in-the-blank, too. We make marvelous families of fluffy duckmouseratdragonrabbitchickencows and birds. Sometimes you enjoy using play silks as your costumes; they often help you transform yourself. They aren’t necessary, though, which is wonderful. Sometimes, a throw blanket over the top of you sees you sufficiently snug inside your egg for a quick and exciting hatching. We never know what critter will emerge from the egg!

When you’re playing with Lucas, you’re usually something more martial than a sweet woodland creature. You’re dragons together, or knights, ninjas or airplane pilots. Often this ends in kung fu or magic battles in which one of you gets hurt. Even when you don’t get physically hurt, you sometimes perceive each magic spell as a great wound; it’s all so real to you it makes you cry when Lucas says something along the lines of, “Your spell just bounced of my ricochet force field and it slammed back into you and now you have no arms!” Oh catastrophe! Oh tears! Bellows of “Stop it!” and “Leave me alone!” are commonly heard around our home. The impulse to wrestle and fight and knock against each other is so powerful in you both as brothers. It drives your father and me to distraction.

You do play nicely with Lucas now, too. When both of you play cooperatively, it’s wonderful. You laugh and tell jokes to each other. You cooperate in saving the world as superheroes. You rescue Princess Mommy when she’s in distress. You care for animals in an animal hospital. You search for wild dragons in the backyard, and tame them with your magic, secret languages, and animal training skills.

Asher, you are something of a hoarder still. Since you were little you’ve always enjoyed piling up your belongings into a great heap. You don’t like anyone to touch these items, or try to put them away into their proper places. These collections are your “work,” or your “store,” or your “tools.” Any item whatsoever becomes a tool of some kind, and it’s all the better if you can find some ribbon or piece of yarn to tie multiple toys together into a Frankentoy, with unique and useful properties.

One of my very favorite things about you is that you love music and you LOVE to dance. You seem to have some natural talent, quickly learning songs that Lucas has learned at school and hummed once or twice at home. In fact, you seem to pick up on any tune really fast. When you hear a new song you like, your face lights up and you ask urgently, “Who’s that? What’s this music called?” If you really, really like it, you ask for that music after dinner, when we are cleaning the table and doing dishes. This is, traditionally, our After-Dinner Disco time. Anyone with a yen to hear anything in particular can request songs at this point, and you often pipe up with just the thing. You like music that’s upbeat, fast, and joyful. You like fight songs and rock ‘n’ roll. You like to bang your head, which puts a sparkle in your Daddy’s eye. You have some wicked-cool moves, too; you’re serious about your dancing and you try out new tricks all the time, but in a purposeful and repeating way—not just randomly. I don’t know how to explain it, except to say my heart swells every time you get your groove on.

Preschool has been a wonderful experience for you this year. You changed preschools in September, right after we came home from Burning Man. Now you attend Starbright Garden Preschool and Miss Pati is your teacher. She is warm and grounded, and I think she makes you and all the other children there feel safe and comfortable. Her home is delightful and full of magical playthings and her garden has many nooks and crannies for you and your buddies to play in. Your two dearest friends came with you to Starbright Garden, and they continue to be close to you. (One of them, Noah, is teaching you about Michael Jackson and Taylor Swift music!) You’re also making new friends left and right, and since there are thirteen children at the school, you’re learning to operate in a bigger pond, so to speak. You’re very fond of Sophie, whom you plan to marry (right after you marry me and Daddy). She’s a great kid, so we’re pretty okay with that decision.

I guess I should sum up now by saying you are growing into such a clever and precocious boy. You’re a joy, and when you’re not it’s only because you’re flexing your independence or trying to work the system—necessary stages and skills worth practicing. You are formidable, as I said before. I’m honored to know you, my little one. Your father and I love you so much! You make us proud every day. You make me want to hold you up to the sun and shout my amazement and wonder to all the sky gods and all the earth goddesses everywhere:

Look at this boy! Look at my son! He is a miracle!

Happy birthday, Asher, my love. Blessed be.

Love,
Mama

Long about this time of year, I go seeking colors. Our gray skies and foggy mornings get old, after a while, and we don’t have any snow to brighten up the landscape. I’m not really complaining, though. I love living here in California. Here are some of winter’s colors I found in my yard or in my neighborhood.

This flowering quince is a harbinger of the spring to come. It’s coral blooms are inspiring me this year.

Redwoods have a comforting feel about them, I think. They seem to say, “Patience, Child. All will be well.”

See the stars? I don’t know the name of these berries, but they’re found on a bush similar to photinia, only with leaves of a darker green. Holler if you know what it is.

This brave trumpet is a hummingbird attractor. It’s kind of limping along in my front yard, where the soil is none too good.

I would absolutely call these fringe flower bushes one of the best landscaping buys I’ve ever made. They are powerhouse bloomers.

Heavenly bamboo. Showstoppers, plain and simple.

When I have said my evening prayer,
And my clothes are folded on the chair,
And mother switches off the light,
I’ll still be three years old tonight.

But, from the very break of day,
Before the children rise and play,
Before the greenness turns to gold,
Tomorrow, I’ll be four years old.

Four kisses when I wake,
Four candles on my cake.

We had several glorious, sparkly days in a row last week. (I love California!) For me they culminated in this perfect walk we took last Saturday. Ian, the boys, and I visited a small section of the American River Parkway called the San Juan Rapids trail.

It’s a great, short walk (for little legs), which are compelled to follow brother wherever he may roam.

Even out on a limb, so to speak.

This photo was taken from the top of Crystal Mountain, a giant hill of rocks left over from the days of industrial gold mining. This trail is familiar to Lucas because it’s right near his Waldorf school and he hikes here with his class often—this is good because he gets to be the authority on the area. He likes that very much.

If all goes well, it won’t be too long before Asher is hiking here with his Kindergarten class, hoping to find quartz crystals of his own.

May I present my almost-4-year-old? Isn’t he mighty?

Inspired by SouleMama {this moment} – A Friday ritual. A single photo – no words – capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.

Today is one of those glorious pea-soup foggy days. I told Asher that some cloud up in the sky was curious about people, and came down to visit. “Look, mama, I can’t see the school!”

I have 35 minutes to myself to get my heart pounding and revel in the quiet. Normally I would hear many birds singing and squirrels barking whenever I passed too closely to their trees. Not today. In the hush of the low-lying mist, even the birds seem to whisper, as though they’re in church.

Perhaps the hundreds of squirrels are all still abed, sleeping in. Perhaps today is a day of rest, even though it’s not marked as such on my calendar. Spiderwebs on hedges are so wet with dew, they are sagging.

I pass a neighbor’s yard. Tiny droplets of water sparkle at the end of pine needle sprays. The closest trees are black against the fog, distant ones are erased in mist. The trees are laid bare, arthritic bones are revealed. And yet, they look lacy against the gray-white sky, as though they’ve put on crocheted gloves over their bony fingertips. Some still sport seed pods or random leaves that forgot to fall. Some are already swelling with buds, as if to proclaim to King Winter, “I am not finished! You will not conquer me.”

No dogs bark at me, even at the home where five of them jealously guard their little patch of Fair Oaks. Their fence sign boasts, “I can make it to the gate in 3 minutes. Can you?” I assume they’re all vying for space near the heating vents and fireside indoors.

I walk down a long straight hill, noticing the deep green of a redwood, the rosy blush of a heavenly bamboo bush. Tiny signs of the coming spring are revealed a bit here, a bit there. I have to look closely for them, and they make me smile. There’s a flowering quince! It’s coral buds are getting fat. Some early blooms are opening nearest the base of the twigs, and they’ll bloom upward like that in a kind of wave. I spy rosemary bushes covered in lavender blossoms. But they’re lonely. No bees serenade them yet. One front yard is graced with a thick ruffle of petite, buttery jonquils.

I notice the squish of my feet as I pass some yards, where the messy autumn leaves are being left to rot. Leaf litter is ground into black muck on the pavement. Some leaves are disintegrating into doilies.

A small flock of Canada geese flies low, making two passes and honking. They are clownish phantoms except when directly overhead. Their monochrome blends into the sky.

I trudge up the hill and come close enough that the garish green fence finally reveals itself. It blinks out of the fog as if someone just turned on the electricity. It is the greenest fence I have ever seen. It is, frankly, impossibly green, and moreover, frankly, I adore it. If it had only stayed plain, showing its natural wood tones, it could have graced a traditional Japanese garden. Happily, its goofy coloring is nowhere near so demure. Happily, it shouts hello to me into the quiet morning.

I round the corner, passing the empty playground. Sometimes little ones with parents are here playing. Not today. Even the beehive in the base of the tree is quiet, seemingly deserted. I hope the bees are inside keeping warm.

There’s something rather Victorian about my neighborhood today. Somehow the fog lends these familiar sights a romance, a mystery. I imagine cobblestones and hoop skirts, and the watery glow of London streetlamps. Where is that piper when I need him?

Houses are storytellers, if you bother to notice the tales they share. Some are old-old, falling mournfully into disrepair or melting into their overgrown yards. Some tell you they are rentals; they seem to say they aren’t one-family homes, but rather they entertain a series of lonely guests year after year. Some homes are elderly men and women, who quite clearly and purposefully look after their health. They take their vitamins and their fiber. They are kept up, wearing nice clothes and dapper roofs. Their neatly trimmed trees and bushes tell you they see the manicurist regularly. Few homes around here are new; they glow with youth like the fresh-faced teens of the neighborhood. Some proudly sport both laugh lines and boob jobs at the same time. These have shiny SUVs in their driveways.

It’s all kind of magical. It’s all ordinary. And since I alone am here to witness it, it’s all mine.

The boys and I checked out a local nature area that I only recently became aware of. Schweitzer Grove Nature Area in Fair Oaks is a lovely grove of eucalyptus. At this time of winter, the grasses and mosses are all bright green and the afternoon sunshine makes everything magical.

The key feature is this tiny creek running through the park. It was jumped and crossed endlessly while we were there. I’m told that the springtime singing of the frogs is delightful.

Eucalyptus Sky

Funny golden mushrooms of some type (I am no mycologist)

With a pair of trusty hand-me-down boots, a kid can go almost anywhere.

Balancing on this plank bridge was no problem for Lucas. Asher would accept no help; he crawled across.

Having opportunities to meaner by oneself is so important. Honestly, kids don’t get to do this much these days—even my kids. I followed behind, trying to give my boys their space.

With those trusty boots on, it was inevitable that he ended up in the creek.

An undeveloped park like this, of this size, really is a perfect place to wander, discover, and ramble about. The drawback to this place, since I am not a frisbee golfer, is that this is also a frisbee golf course—apparently one of the oldest ones around. Besides ourselves, there were many young male golfers present, mostly of college or high school age. Nearly every one of them carried a very large can of beer—possibly a function of it being Friday near 5 p.m. They were mostly polite and friendly, but I did worry a bit about one of us getting beamed by a frisbee while we were walking. I think next time we come here, we might aim for a weekday morning instead.

This is the third part in a three-part article about what Waldorf school looks like compared to public school. If you’re just coming to this, I encourage you to read Part 1, which can be found here, and Part 2, which is here. This is, of course, our experience and others will have different takes on Waldorf education. Please keep in mind that Ian and I are parents, not teachers, so our perspective on Waldorf is a parents’ perspective.

11. The School Day. A typical day at Waldorf school for the third grade consists of main lesson (subjects of language arts and math are taught in six-week blocks), snack time, specialty class, lunch, and then two specialty classes. There are several recesses too. Spanish, German, handwork, music, and gardening are each taught twice a week. Movement, Eurhythmy, painting, and form drawing are taught once per week. Two or three periods a week are devoted to reading practice and groups. My son loves all of his subjects.

Right now in main lesson, they are working on math, with specific emphasis on measurement and reviewing carrying and introducing borrowing. Next month they will move into a “shelter and housing” block. They will study housing around the world and the history of life skills. The children will choose a particular type of house or home and then fashion a realistic 3-D shelter diorama and present a report to the class. I have seen the most amazing shelter dioramas—igloos, geodesic domes, longhouses, log cabins—pass by me at school, lovingly carried (with difficulty) by their third-grade creators. This shelter block harkens back to autumn blocks of gardening and farming and building. In the spring, the third grade will have a social studies and life sciences block that covers clothing and textiles. Students will complete a clothing and weaving project, which handsomely dovetails with their handwork classes covering crochet and spinning.That’s a lot of information about our grade specifically, but it gives a picture of what school is like and shows how many teaching modalities are present, as art, movement, and music are interwoven throughout. All grades have some variation on this kind of day, with subjects becoming more advanced as the children grow.

Overall, the Waldorf curriculum is highly geared to meet the needs of the growing child, whose development can be divided into three main phases. Birth to age 7 is considered to be the imitation/will years; 7 to age 14 are considered to be the imagination/feeling years; and ages 14 to 21 make up the truth-seeking/thinking years. Subjects are introduced with these developmental stages in mind, for example eighth graders study world revolutions.

12. Parent Involvement. Our school is not, strictly speaking,  a “parent-participation” school. Parents do not volunteer regularly in the classroom. However, parents support and help with many tasks, and are asked to get involved in everything from festival committees and boosters clubs to the parent guild and the board of directors. There are celebrations and festivals all year long that require a great deal of parent involvement, and many fundraisers. Each family is asked to volunteer in numerous ways and to let the school know their particular talents and hobbies. There are hundreds of ways to be involved in our child’s education. I was thrilled when I was asked to help with baking dragon breads, to take photographs of the Harvest Faire, and to paint wings for the third grade’s Firebird Eurhythmy performance last fall.

13. Festivals. So what are these festivals anyway? Waldorf schools celebrate a plethora of festivals that might be unfamiliar to many, or perhaps may be familiar only because they once were (or still are) a part of the yearly liturgical rhythm of European cultures. These festivals are closely connected to the seasons and occur almost once per month. Michaelmas occurs at the end of September. Harvest Faire happens in October. Martinmas and Thanksgiving are in November. The season of Advent is celebrated as the contemplative days leading up to the winter solstice and Christmas. May Day is a big school-wide festival that happens in the first week of May.

School festivals are opportunities for celebration, for contemplation and inner revelation, and for community building. By celebrating holidays and holding festivals, we celebrate the bounty and beauty of life. We stand up, take a deep breath, and collectively say, “We are human and humans together.” Because they are unique to Waldorf schools, these festivals are a kind of icing on the Waldorf cake and most families love to partake.

14. Nourishment. From the moment we set foot on our Waldorf school campus we have been nourished in every way. Every sense* is considered in every moment: sight, sound, taste, touch. Lighting is beautiful. Materials used in school are superb and of the best possible quality so that they may please and inspire. Wood, wool, sunlight, silk, paints of the purest colors, and nourishing foods are the delights that surround my son during his school day. Every item is both functional and beautiful, from the desks to the doorjambs, from the spectacular woods and river surrounding the campus to the school farm. And let me talk about that farm a moment. Fruits and vegetables are grown organically and biodynamically all year. Some (very lucky) animals make their homes there: a sweet old cow, a flock of chickens who produce lovely eggs, several sheep, and an old man llama named Balboa. Children participate in working this farm throughout grades 1–8 in their gardening classes. They learn where food comes from, and through their labors in the sun and open air get an inkling of the time, effort, and knowledge required to produce and harvest food. In the Waldorf Kindergarten, snack is provided by the school and the little ones are fed nourishing grains, vegetables, and soups. I assert that whenever 24 5- and 6-year-olds eat organic vegetable and barley soup together as a class, a small miracle has occurred. And I think any parent with a picky eater will agree.

15. Nature, Reverence, and Respect. This is perhaps the aspect of Waldorf education that most appeals to me. Wonderment and reverence for nature and humanity are part of my personal morality, and this is something I truly hope my children will learn. And I see these principles in practice every day at school. Rudolf Steiner said, “Receive the children in reverence; educate them in love; let them go forth in freedom.” We believe that our son is being taught as and treated as an individual with worth. We believe he is loved and valued and that his contributions to the class and the lives of the students and teacher are valued. We think this is a pretty good case for Waldorf education, since it is in feeling loved and wanted and respected that people are able to open up to learning and new experiences, and make lasting relationships. We do not want our son to burn out on school. We don’t want him to hate school and hate learning. We do not want him simply to survive his schooling, but rather to thrive in it and because of it. We feel that our private school is an investment in his future success and may help stave off some of the problems that teens and young adults face. We might be wrong, of course. Nothing is guaranteed. No school will raise him for us. We still have the toughest job of parenting. I wouldn’t have it any other way. (I welcome your comments.)

* Steiner described and explored twelve senses of the human being. I am not qualified to explain these.

This is the second post in a three-part article about what Waldorf school looks like compared to public school. If you’re just coming to this, I encourage you to read Part 1, which can be found here. Please keep in mind that Ian and I are parents, not teachers, so our perspective on Waldorf is a parents’ perspective.

What does Waldorf school look like?

6. Curriculum. Reading, writing, and math are taught systematically, but probably not with the same system that you are familiar with if you come from public education. The Waldorf curriculum is not up to individual teachers, as it is long established, although teachers can mold things to their liking by choosing stories as teaching vehicles. They are not teaching out of an instructor’s manual and the students do not have textbooks of any kind. Rather, the teacher brings the lesson and the students make their own “lesson books.” Thus, they are constantly developing and using their reading, writing, math, and art skills no matter the subject. Students definitely are not doing whatever they want, as some people seem to assume about Waldorf education. Rather, students follow the lessons set before them by their teachers. More about the Waldorf curriculum can be found here.

7. Class Size and Student/Teacher Ratio. My son’s class has 28 students. It is up to the teacher and the administration to determine how many students he/she can take. They try to hover around 28 to 29 children. In first grade, there was a wonderful classroom aide to help the teacher, but probably more to help the young students adjust to being in a classroom for lessons and sitting in desks. Starting in second grade there is no classroom aide, but the students have the other specialty teachers I mentioned above. In third grade, which I discussed in more detail here, students do lots of cooking, and our dear Spanish teacher also helps with cooking to ensure appropriate supervision of the children while they are working in the in-classroom kitchen.

8. Media Use. The children have no access to computers or computer-assisted learning at school until they reach 8th grade or maybe even high school, I’m not sure. Waldorf is sometimes accused of being of technophobic in that way, but Waldorf teachers have very clear reasons why computers have no place in the lower grades. They strongly discourage the use of TV, movies, computers, and video games for young children, and they can be very adamant about it. There is a plethora of research to support the Waldorf ideal of no or minimal screen time. (I urge you to search the internet for research.) The use of media for the young child effectively drugs children. It robs them of their ability to use their imaginations to form the kind of detailed mental pictures that they need to form while reading, learning history, learning about cultures, learning abstract concepts of math and science, empathizing with others, and eventually in high level problem solving. Some might scoff and say imagination isn’t important. But Waldorf and industry leaders agree: If you cannot imagine that something can be done a different way, then you cannot innovate. The whole goal of Waldorf eduction is to teach children to think for themselves.

Now, to address computers and technology specifically I will admit that some children are using computers at home. My children mostly do not, although they are around us when we use our computers. Some people have asked me, “Don’t you worry about your kids not learning computers? However will they compete in a high-tech world if they don’t study computers in school?” Personally, I have no worries about my kids’ ability to pick up technology skills when the time is right; technology is part of our culture and children learn fast. Our kids will not be able to get away from technology in their lives—so I don’t mind at all staving that off for a later date. I want my kids playing when they’re young, using their hands and their bodies to explore and navigate the world, not sitting glued to a monitor. With that said, my 8-year-old has a pretty darn clear understanding of the Internet just through observing us use it over time, and my younger son has a great affinity for technology. In our home, it is not taboo but rather a useful tool that they do not yet need.

9. Clothing and Warmth. We do not have school uniforms, though there is a dress code: no logos, no pictures, no words on clothing, no camouflage, NO TV or movie characters. Ideal play clothes are warm and comfortable, layered to regulate temperature, and designed in such a way that the clothing does not take the wearer or the wearer’s classmates out of the here and now and into some other space. What I mean is, if a child puts on an outfit and wears it like a costume, letting the outfit dictate their attitude, personality, and receptivity, then that clothing is not conducive to learning. For example, a young child might wear army-green camouflage and then run around playing army and guns, which is discouraged at school. On the other hand, a girl dressed up in fancy princess clothes that make her put on airs or decline to run and play and hang upside-down is missing out on the learning opportunities of the school day. Teachers and administrators don’t want the children to be conscious of their clothing. The rules about clothing, jewelry, and hair color change somewhat as the children get older.

10. Student Evaluation. Waldorf students do not get report cards or letter grades. We get a skills evaluation at the midyear parent-teacher conference and we get an evaluation letter at the end of the school year. The letter is specifically about our child: who he is, what his is learning, what his strengths and weaknesses are, what he brings to the class, etc. There is also a long letter about what the class as a whole studied during the year, and it is broken into predictable chunks, such as Language Arts and Arithmetic, and also Music, Form Drawing, Drawing and Painting, Movement, Performances, and Books Read to the Class. I have to admit, I am thrilled to my core when I read my son’s evaluation letter, even the parts that explain where he needs more practice. Here’s an excerpt.

“Lucas has continued to be such a loving and joyful presence in our class this year. Whether he was creating rocket ships, organizing elaborate games full of imagery, or building great cities in the sand, Lucas was where the action was. Never at a loss for ideas, his eyes would twinkle with excitement when he had the opportunity to boldly create something he hadn’t before. Early in the year I introduced ‘free rendering’ to the children, whereby they could create in any form something from the story they had previously heard. While most drew or painted pictures, Lucas quickly asked, ‘Can it be 3D?’ In no time he was constructing a large castle made out of many pieces of paper rolled and taped together. As others joined in with Lucas at the helm, an amazing castle with drawbridges and towers was formed.”

Such a written evaluation allows us to know our child in his school environment, where we cannot and do not observe him directly. This teacher’s perspective is valuable; it is the observations of the adult who spends all those many hours in our son’s presence among his peers. It gives us a much better window into his growth and development (socially, academically, physically, intellectually) than any series of A’s, B’s, C’s, or D’s ever could.

This article will be continued in Part 3. Please join me there for more information on Waldorf schooling. As always, I welcome your comments!

About a year ago, a friend with a young child asked me about Waldorf education and why we choose Waldorf school for our older son, and Waldorf-inspired preschool for our younger son. My friend is a former coworker and a public school teacher, so my response to her was meant to highlight the differences of Waldorf education compared with the California public school (as I remember it from my own schooling).

It occurred to me that I could post my lengthy email to my friend here, in case others are curious. I have made small edits to make this content make sense to a broader audience. Please keep in mind that Ian and I are parents, not teachers, so our perspective on Waldorf is a parents’ perspective. (This is Part 1 of a three part article. Why Waldorf? will continue in Parts 2 and 3. Part 2 can be found here. Part three can be found here.)

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What does Waldorf school look like?

1. The Class Journey. My son’s class may have the same teacher for 8 years, from grades 1 through 8. This is the ideal “class journey,” as they call it. Sometimes, this ideal is not possible. Some Waldorf schools strive very hard to provide this 1–8 continuity. Others find it’s not so practical. The point is for the teacher to come to know each child so well over the years that there is no chance of someone falling through the cracks, with needs going unmet. Also, the child’s strengths and weaknesses are known and nurtured along year by year. The teacher becomes a kind of third parent, if you will, and can have extremely valuable insight into your child as she grows.

2. Specialty Subjects. In addition to the main teacher, there are specialist teachers who concentrate on specific subjects, starting in first grade. These include Spanish, German, eurhythmy (a kind of storytelling through dance that is specially designed to appeal to a child’s imagination and nurture gross-motor skills development and physical organization, which is thought to have a direct and significant impact on a child’s ability to learn academically and socially; it also serves to help the class work together with flow), movement (which is a bit more like PE/games and starts in second grade), handwork (skills such as knitting, crochet, sewing, weaving, and then, as the child gets older, woodworking, sculpture, etc.), music, and gardening/farming (starting in second grade).

3. Arts in the Waldorf Curriculum. Within all the sit-down subjects, art is a major component to learning. The idea is that appealing to the child’s highest self and emotional life through art is what makes learning joyful and beautiful. The humanity of each child is respected and human beings make art. Art has a way of capturing the imagination and engaging all the senses and the intellect. Even math is taught with artwork incorporated in every lesson. If you learn with joy, you will retain the information. In Waldorf schools, students do painting, modeling with beeswax, drawing, paper crafts, sewing, clay, etc. Art techniques are taught along with the main lesson. The children also perform plays and sing songs that accompany their lessons. From the first grade, they play a pentatonic flute. In third grade, the begin with a C flute. In fourth grade they choose a string instrument for orchestra; in fifth they have an option to switch to a band instrument. This musical instruction is part of their schooling.

4. Reading and Literacy. Here is a big difference between Waldorf and public schools: Children in preschool, Kindergarten, and first grade are not tasked with learning to read. No phonics programs are used. In fact, Kindergartners are expected to focus on growing their bodies, learning to play with others, learning responsibility and community through clean-up chores, learning music and circle time, climbing, digging, skipping, etc. No pressure is brought to bear on a child who isn’t reading in first grade. However, with that said, all kinds of prereading skills are being exercised during this time, through extensive use of storytelling, puppetry, poetry, rhymes, games, songs, and fairy tales. In first grade, students start learning the alphabet. It is our observation that most children already know the alphabet by this time, but the teacher still takes plenty of time with each letter. The children hear a story that teaches them the character of the letter, then they make art with the letter. (This is a gradual type of phonics, but there are no flash cards or early/late reading groups or that sort of thing.) Most children begin reading on their own sometime in second grade. Most Waldorf third graders are reading well, despite their not having experienced early-reading pressure. On standardized tests such as those administered by the state of CA, as I understand it, the typical Waldorf student performs in second grade “below grade level” in reading, “at grade level” in fourth grade, and then “above grade level” in later grades. Anecdotally, I can say with confidence that Waldorf kids have an amazing capacity for memorization and I credit the amount of oral storytelling they are exposed to.

5. Mathematics. Here is another big difference: All four basic math operations are introduced at once in the first grade. They are taught through storytelling and imaginative imagery. Waldorf is often criticized for being “behind” in teaching reading, and yet, by the same yardstick it is “ahead” of public schools in teaching math. (In third grade, my son is currently working on mulitplication of two-digit numbers.)

This article, Why Waldorf? will continue in Parts 2 and 3. Part 2 can be found here. Part three can be found here. I hope you enjoy reading them.