Did Dwight Schrute go to a Waldorf School?

• He speaks German and apparently knows about that awful German children’s book, Struwwelpeter.
• He plays the (fluorescent plastic) recorder.
• He believes exposure to germs strengthens your immune system.
• He wanted to teach children to make cornhusk dolls...

Did Rainn Wilson or a writer for the American version of The Office go to a Waldorf school?
Is there other evidence that Dwight Schrute did?

Inquiring minds want to know.
Comments, please!

"Earino" (Spring): Fragment of a Lost Socratic Dialogue

Socrates meets his students—Halitosis, Leukemia, Diabetes, and Osteoporosis—in the woods near Athens known as the Academia.

Socrates: It is good to see you all again. We were discussing justice and the good life... Halitosis! What are you doing?
Halitosis: One minute, Socrates. My mom texted me that I forgot my lunch and I have to text her back...
Socrates: Well, okay. But then put that thing away, whatever it is. Haven’t we established that direct communication is the only true communication? As I was saying… You know Leukemia, it’s very hard for the other students to concentrate when your toga is so short…
Leukemia: But Socrates, it’s too hot here in Athens in the spring. And I have such nice legs. You want me to wear long togas like you old people? That’s so mean…
Socrates: That’s not really the point, Leukemia. When you consider… Diabetes! Are you here to learn or to eat? I can hear you chewing like a cow and it is distracting.
Diabetes: I’m not eating, Socrates. This is a breath freshener. In chewing gum form. It’s minty fresh. Would you like one?
Socrates: No, Diabetes, although it’s kind of you to offer. But, listen, is that what I find stuck to every stump and boulder in the Academia? The gods know I walked home yesterday with a chunk of that stuck to my sandal. It’s very annoying… Where was I? Oh, yes… Yes, Osteoporosis?
Osteoporosis: I have to work this afternoon and I feel terrible and I have a headache and I really want to take a nap before I go to work, so can I go now? There’s nothing really important happening here…
Socrates: Well, it’s obvious why not, isn’t it?
(End of fragment.)

Giving a Test 101

Among the reasons for high school and middle school students to lose confidence in their teachers are simple things—organization, preparation, clarity, attention. A lack of these may become particularly evident in times of stress, and there may be no more acute case in the everyday life of a school than during the administration of a test. I believe I can hand identical tests to different teachers who will walk into classes that have been identically prepared and, depending on how the teachers handle the test-taking, from beginning to end, student attitudes and results will vary widely.

An organized, clear, attentive teacher will elicit the best behavior and results—the room will be calm, the test fair. A disorganized, unclear, inattentive teacher will elicit bad behavior—including cheating—and worse results.

So I thought I’d walk through test-administering 101.

Write a test that is fair and that allows students to demonstrate what they know. It could even be fun… Start with a cartoon or a joke (maybe an “in” joke that you and the class share). The test should should be difficult to get a perfect score on but also difficult to fail. It should test students on what they should know—what is important in your course, what you have reviewed.

Frankly, in most cases, you should be so confident of your students that giving or taking the test is just about beside the point—you should know the students well enough to know what they know, to know how well they will do on your test. (In which case, you don’t have to give it at all.) Or, if you give it, you can make it, too, into part of the learning for your course. Ask them to synthesize information in an essay. Don’t insult their intelligence. Don’t waste your own time.

Begin, perhaps, by telling the story of how you cheated in high school and how bad you feel now. Or how you got caught and learned your lesson. Or about the girl who plagiarized a Spanish paper in senior year of college and got un-accepted to law school, wrecking her life. Make it clear how seriously you take cheating. Tell students they will fail if caught cheating, and stick to your decision.

Give clear instructions for taking the test and for what to do when finished (For example: read it over, hand it to me, face down, with all essays or scrap paper stapled in order, with your name on each sheet, sit down without speaking and read a book until everyone is done).

Separate students as much as possible. Move tables and desks as necessary to create space.

Have students clear their desks except for test-taking essentials. (If they need scrap paper, you give it to them.)

Once you hand out the tests, face down on each desk, no talking. Talking gets a reduced grade.

Anyone who has a question can walk over to you and whisper, one at a time.

Sit in the back of the room, behind the students. They can’t see you, you can see them—head swivels, desk searches…

Do not talk unless absolutely necessary. Do not leave the room. Do not turn your back on the students.

Give time or progress updates if helpful; “You have ten minutes until the end of the period.” “You should be at least halfway through the test by now.”

If you are tough but fair, students will feel secure, they will perform better, results will be indicative of what you want them to be indicative of, and your life will run more smoothly.

Teachers usually don’t fail, in my experience, because they don’t know the subject they are teaching, or because they aren’t committed to the job. They fail for one of four reasons. (I teach in a small private school; teachers in other schools may amend my list.) First, young or inexperienced teachers may discover that they simply are not teachers—that their dream of teaching was a romantic one, and that the realities of teaching are simply not for them. This can be a hard lesson to learn, but one better learned sooner than later. In most cases, teachers and schools part ways peaceably and with mutual respect in circumstances like these.

The other three reasons for leaving teaching do not always results in peaceful partings. Teachers may lose the confidence of the parents of the students in their class; they may lose the confidence of their colleagues; and they may lose the confidence of the students in their class. This last may be expressed in different ways depending on the teacher and the age of the students—lack of control or discipline, disillusionment, disdain, complaints, insecurity… the student behaviors that signal that a teacher is not up to the job are myriad. And parent or colleague confidence is almost always tied to student confidence and security, which is made acutely visible when taking a test.

Turning School on its Head: Information and Experience

William Blake wrote Songs of Innocence and Songs of Experience. Today, we could write, less poetically, Songs of Information; our children’s innocence is quickly and largely lost to the information in and with which we live.

It used to be that life gave us experience, from the school of hard knocks on up. Until recently, historically speaking, more than 9 out of 10 persons worked in agriculture, and everyone knew a great deal—how and when to plow, till, sow; how to herd and heal, how to shoe, how to hunt, trap, tan, weave, sew, dress, butcher, cook, how to mend a wagon wheel or a fence, how to build, how to clear, and on and on. Those who didn’t farm knew a trade. Experience filled a life.

But if we wanted information we had to go to school (or church, but that’s a different topic). We could say that the job of schools was to provide information that life experience did not—literacy, numeracy, the content and interpretation of books, “subjects” like history, geography, science, philosophy, theology, and on and on. Information filled a school.

Without quite realizing it, we have turned the world upside down.

For young people, especially, information is everywhere and experience is hard to come by.

This makes the job of schools and schooling different. We need to reorient—we are reorienting—education to provide experience, and trust that none of our students will suffer from too little information in the next lifetime or more.

Experience allows us to discern and sift and sort the information flowing past our eyes. It allows us to live as human beings in a world that increasingly seems not to need human input. Schools that offer experience—and trust that we no longer need primarily to be the arbiters of information—will serve their students best.

Excerpts from a Conversation on Starting a Waldorf High School

I had a stimulating conversation last week with a representative from a Waldorf school with a healthy elementary school enrollment that is interested in starting a high school. Here are some of my notes--slightly expurgated to protect the privacy of all involved.

In my experience one group—parents, teachers, or trustees—usually drives change at a school. It’s better if 2 of the 3 are ready to initiate change. The first step is to identify which group is ready to move forward. If no one group is leading and each group is somewhat split, you may have to adopt a slightly different strategy, one which may be stronger in the long run, and form a coalition of the willing among parents, teachers, and board members.

A high school committee that includes representatives of all constituencies, with a clear mandate to plan (and return to the community at each step to collect information and inform everyone of progress and possibilities), may well be the way to go. One key to our success, I believe, was our willingness to hear criticism, concern, and anxiety, and to acknowledge and deal with them as well as we could.

This group may be the same as—but doesn’t have to be the same as—a study group on adolescence. The study group, for instance, may be more teacher-centered, while a planning committee might be a joint board-faculty-parent group.

Then the question is, how to get others on board? For trustees and parents, reassurance regarding minimizing risk and forwarding the benefits—I believe, for instance, that a HS will slow middle school attrition—will work. Identifying a target class, raising money in advance, and good planning are all helpful. Teachers mostly want to be reassured that a HS won’t mean more work for them. Sorry to by cynical, but it’s often true…

(Our biggest mistake by far occurred early on. In planning, we discussed two possibilities. One was growing the school only to 9th grade for a few years—private schools in our area often have grades through 9th grade; students then transfer to boarding school or another prep school for high school. The other was to carry on adding grades (as we did) until we had a full high school. The 9th grade, as I mentioned, had a good enrollment of 13 students, and then the bottom dropped out of the school with the con man I mentioned. And some of those who had been ready to move forward then recommended stopping at 9th grade to regroup. The trustees waffled through the spring, and students who would have stayed or enrolled in a new 9th grade left to find other schools. The uncertainty was crippling. In the end, it made greater financial sense to have a combined 9th and 10th grade—with more students than 9th alone—and that’s what we did. But the hesitation and uncertainty, born of a lack of clarity, nearly killed us.)

Identify a pioneer class, then inform them and their parents with articles, talks, etc., about the value of the HS you’re planning. Make them part of the process. I think 15 students is a good goal, but it’s a bit high—10-12 might be more reasonable and attainable; crunching numbers will show what’s possible.

Given demographics in our area, we are committed to a school of no more than about 50 students; other areas could support a larger school in the long run. We believe there’s a “deadly middle ground” between about 60 and 150 students—depends on your revenue and expenses—and we’re trying to avoid it. Most Waldorf high schools fall solidly in it, which I believe is a perennial challenge—they need teachers and facilities and resources for a school that could support 200 students, but they only have, say 90 students to pay for it…

Don’t count out local homeschoolers and other feeders—it’s fine for students who haven’t been in Waldorf schools to join in 9th grade, and you may be surprised how many allies you find among those disenchanted with their options. (Many students who had left the Waldorf elementary school returned to us for high school—a year or two at other schools taught them that the grass wasn’t as green as they thought!)

Another strategy—used in Freeport, Maine, for instance—is to identify two lead classes. Graduate the 8th grade and send them off to another school for a year with the promise that they can return to a 10th grade the following year. The next year’s 8th grade then becomes the 9th grade, and you open the HS with 2 classes. Ta da!

One of the hardest things, beyond your control, is creating something where nothing exists. You have no track record, no college acceptances, no happy students, nothing to sell but a good idea and commitment…

I believe it is good to have a paid planner or consultant for a couple of years to move you from idea to reality. Other schools have used this. We didn’t and we probably should have; things came to fruition very quickly for us, and we grabbed the opportunity we had. This was less than ideal, but, given that Great Barrington had closed a high school in the late 80s, may have been our only chance.

I can hardly emphasize enough how much depends on the quality of teaching. You have to have at least one amazing high school teacher, a tough cookie with a warm heart and a good head who can lead a faculty, guide students through the years of a pioneer high school, and reassure parents that their students will be prepared for college and for life. It’s a rare elementary school teacher who can make this leap, but maybe you have one. If not, the search for one is an essential part of your planning. If everything else is in place, and parents and students don’t trust the quality of the teaching and don’t value their relationships with their teachers, it won’t work.

Planning will also include a lot of high school-appropriate topics that elementary school teachers don’t like to deal with—dress, plagiarism, substance abuse policies, and on and on and on. Maintaining school spirit in the face of all this can be challenging. You can easily find out what other high schools do, but you also have to authentically make these things your own.

A final point to emphasize, perhaps prematurely, is that a Waldorf high school is as different from the elementary school as the elementary school is from the preschool. If students perceive that the Waldorf high school is “just more Waldorf,” they won’t want to come. “Selling” the differences—a voice in making some of the rules, choosing elective courses, travel and work opportunities, challenging courses with different, expert teachers, sports, mastery in the arts, etc., etc.—has helped us a lot and continues to be a challenge for us.

Apologies

Blogger was down yesterday and today (May 12 and 13) and seems to have eaten my recent post (and many others' posts, as well). I've replaced it. If it reappears, then there will be two. C'est la, c'est la.

Waldorf School Theocracy Syndrome (WSTS)

Does your school suffer from Waldorf School Theocracy Syndrome (WSTS)? Now there may be help! Read on to learn more.

Patient complaints/Symptoms:
Checking 3 or more of the following symptoms may be a sign that your school suffers from WSTS.
___ Enrollment attrition, particularly in middle school grades.
___ Too many classes with more girls than boys.
___ “Churn” or large turnover in enrollment (even if numbers overall are holding steady).
___ Stressful parent-teacher relationships.
___ Administrative dysfunction.
___ Arguments that rationalize dysfunction as “karmic.”
___ Failure to produce an organizational chart that makes sense.
___ Parent Association dissatisfaction.
___ Parking lot gossip.
___ Teachers’ room gossip.
___ Trustee attrition.
___ Falling community reputation.

Diagnosis:
Waldorf School Theocracy Syndrome (WSTS)

Waldorf teachers act, and believe they should act, as the priest-interpreters of Rudolf Steiner’s will, allowing their appropriate classroom and pedagogical autonomy to spill over into the economic life or rights and responsibilities life of a school.

Discussion:
Theocracy—rule according to the word of a god, often interpreted according to a fundamental text (hence, fundamentalism)—contradicts Steiner’s threefold social organization, which Waldorf schools espouse as an idea found in some of their fundamental texts. This belief and its attendant behaviors contradict the tenets of anthroposophy, too.

Treatment:
▪ Acknowledge that all members of a school community have rights and responsibilities.
▪ Acknowledge that, with regard to rights and responsibilities, all members of the community are equal. In particular, teachers’ authority does not extend to this area.
▪ Consult all constituencies to create lists of rights and responsibilities for each group.
▪ Constitute a group of teachers, parents, and board members, democratically, separate from the economic life of the school and also separate from the pedagogical life of the school, to administer the life of rights and responsibilities within the community.
▪ Empower this group to recommend and set policies and procedures and mediate conflicts among constituents of the school community.
▪ Figure out where the buck stops, and stop it there.

(Note: WSTS is a condition or syndrome that does not respond to “one size fits all” or “magic bullet” treatments. Each case requires individualized, ongoing attention and care.