Tag: waldorf

Spiral of Love and Light

December 3rd, 2025

The third floor of the Waldorf school building is a small auditorium. There is a stage on the east end of the hall, and the floor is a wide expanse of hardwood. The space at times doubles as a gymnasium of sorts, but it is primarily used for student plays and music recitals. On the north and south sides of the hall are tall windows. There room is usually filled with light during the daytime.

That was not the case yesterday. The inside of the auditorium was dim. That was partly due to the overcast skies, but it was also because the faculty had hung colored silks over the windows. Each covering had a different hue: red, green, blue. Some light seeped through the cloth, but the room was darkened, and that was on purpose.

Most of the floor was covered with evergreen boughs. Some were pine, but most were spruce. The boughs were laid out to form a large spiral. In the center of the spiral sat a small table bearing half of a hollowed-out geode. Inside of the rock was a candle. On the floor, along the edges of the spiral, were felted stars, seashells, gnomes and fairies. On the outer borders of the evergreen spiral was a circle of folding chairs.

The kindergarteners were standing and sitting in the hallway with their caregivers. They were waiting for the beginning of the ritual of the winter spiral. There were the usual noise and confusion as the children and parents talked and mingled. Then the faculty members began leading the participants into the auditorium. A lone musician played a melody on a flute as everyone entered the room. Without being told to do so, every person fell silent, and each found a seat.

The teacher, Miss Sara, took an apple in her hand from a table contain dozens of them. The apple had a candle inserted into it. She entered the spiral walking slowly. At the center she carefully lit a match and ignited the wick of the candle in the geode. Then she took her candle and lit it from the flame in the rock. She silently walked part way out of the spiral, and then she placed her candle on the floor near the boughs. She came out of the spiral. We all sat there, and a single light struggled to illuminate the room. The musician plucked a song on his Persian oud. No one spoke.

Miss Sara picked up another apple that held a candle in it, and she handed it to the first child. The boy and his parents stood up. Miss Sara smiled and invited them to enter the spiral. They did. The boy seemed a bit self-conscious, and he marched to the center of the spiral. With the help of his parents, he lit his candle, walked several steps, and then placed the apple on the floor. They all walked out of the spiral. Now there were two lights in the room.

Sara gave candled apples to each child, and each child made the journey to the center. Some were confident. Some were nervous. Some enjoyed the attention. Some were shy. Each one lit his or her candle and left it on the path out of the spiral. The room gradually grew brighter. The musician switched to his Turkish lavta and strummed tunes in minor keys. The children were restless, but quiet.

At one point, Asher saw a girl carrying her apple. He smiled and whispered to me,

“Grandpa, that’s her.”

Her. A little girl in a dress with long blonde hair woven into intricate braids. The apple of Asher’s eyes.

I smiled back at him.

Asher walked up to the flame with Karin and me. He was slow and serious until he set his apple/candle on the floor. Then he hurried out of the spiral. He wanted his anonymity back.

One little girl was there without her parents. They both no doubt had to be at work. Miss Sara walked the spiral with the girl. Nobody made the journey alone.

By the end of the ritual, every child had taken the walk to the center of the spiral and had brought light back into a dark world. The room was still in shadow, but small candle flames made it more joyous, more hopeful.

The world was just a tiny bit brighter.

Festival of Courage

October 2nd, 2025

Karin and I went to Pulaski Park at 9:00 AM. The sun was shining, and the weather was warm already. We strolled to that tiny greenspace from Brady Street to help set up for the festival. We found out that most of the prep work had already been completed. Banners had been hung and tables laden with snacks. The kindergarteners, including our grandson, Asher, were going to show up at 9:30. They would walk the two blocks from the Waldorf school to the park with their teachers. In the meantime, Karin and I, along with some other caregivers used our artistic skills to make chalk drawings on the ground near the children’s obstacle course that had been erected in the tennis court. We drew multicolored trees, flowers, stars, suns, whales, and spirals. The little kids would have a chance to view the drawings later in the morning when they navigated the obstacle course.

In addition to the obstacle course, there was to be face painting, a sack race, and other activities. There was a playground at the park, and it was expected that the little ones would flock to that eventually. The kids would be able to munch popcorn, chew on apple slices, and eat dragon bread smothered with butter (vegan or dairy) and blackberry jam.

Dragon bread is something that probably needs to be explained. It reminds me a lot of challah bread, except that instead of being braided, it is molded into the shape of a dragon. See below:

That isn’t the best possible image, but you might get the idea. Why does the festival have dragon bread? That requires me to give some background on the whole event.

Waldorf education is a little over a century old. Rudolf Steiner, the founder of Waldorf schools, harked back to medieval religious holidays to help the children stay in tune with the seasons of the year. Years ago, when our own children were attended the school, the festival was called Michaelmas, which was and still is a special day marked on the Catholic Church’s calendar. Michaelmas is the feast of Michael, Raphael, and Gabriel: archangels. The archangels are considered to be examples of courage. They combat the forces of evil in the world. There used to be mural in the school showing St Michael slaying a dragon, the dragon being a sign of chaos and darkness. Are archangels real? Even if they aren’t, they symbolize the courage to do the right thing. Now, in more secular and diverse times, the event is called the “Festival of Courage”, which has always been the theme.

Asher and his classmates arrived dressed for the occasion. They all wore yellow capes, and on their heads, they had orange bands that looked like crowns or halos. Once the members of all three kindergartens and their caregivers were gathered, we all formed into a large circle around a low, grassy knoll in the park. Halle, one of the teachers, led everyone in a short song:

“Morning has come, night is away, we rise with the sun and welcome the day.”

Then she told a story/poem about picking apples. This included a lot of hand and body movements. People participated in movements to the extent that they could. Asher stood next to Karin and me in the circle. Close by was Maggie, a little girl in the class, who is friendly toward Asher. He feels the same way about her.

Once the poem was completed, the crowd dispersed, and the children did their thing. They threw their shooting stars into the air (the shooting stars are dark blue cloths wrapped around a small object and tied with brightly colored ribbons. the kids make them in class). Then Asher got in the line to run the obstacle course. It consisted of several activities. He had to crawl through a tunnel made up of a series of small tents. He needed to throw a ball through a hoop (he got it in on the third try). He had to walk on a balance beam. He had to have his grandma (Oma) hold his hand to get across. Asher was rather nervous about walking the balance beam, but he did it anyway. Courage does not mean that a person is not scared. Courage means that a person, like Asher, tries to do something even when they are afraid. Courage also means being willing to accept help in order to do something that may be scary.

What do St. Michael and the dragon have to do with courage? How does this festival teach children about that virtue? Well, it’s done with stories and games and physical reminders. It does it with things like dragon bread and capes. The story of St. Michael tells a small child how to be brave in a fight. The fight depicted is a battle with something outside of themselves. It’s something they can understand.

The adults learn too. I don’t think that courage is innate. I think it is a virtue that has to taught and practiced for an entire lifetime. Courage comes in many forms. St. Michael is a warrior. We assume that warriors are brave. However, the bravest person I have ever met is an individual battling an addiction. It can be easy to fight for our own rights, but how do we defend the rights of others? How do we get up each morning and slay the dragon within ourselves?

Back on Brady Street

August 25th, 2025

Asher starts kindergarten at Tamarack Waldorf School on September 3rd. This is obviously a big deal, both for Asher and for Karin and me. Going to school will open up a whole new world for Asher. He will get to know his teacher, and he will make friends. He will have to learn how to follow a schedule. He’s never had to do that before. Asher has mostly done what he wants when he wants, and for the most part we, as his guardians, have been okay with that. That all changes in a little over a week. He is going to have to get up early, eat breakfast, get dressed, and go to class for the morning every morning. I’m almost certain he will balk at this, at least until he gets comfortable in his class and starts looking forward to doing things with the other children.

I will mostly likely be driving Asher to class each morning. I am a morning person, unlike my wife. The Waldorf school is close to downtown Milwaukee, which means Asher and I will have a half hour drive to get him to class by 8:00 AM each day. Traffic will suck. My wife did this kind of thing with our own kids twenty-five years ago. We know the drill. Since Asher will only be there until 12:30, it is kind of iffy as to whether it is even worthwhile for me to drive back home once I drop him off. I might as well stay in area around the school while he is in class.

Tamarack is located on Brady Street on the lower eastside of Milwaukee. It’s close to Lake Michigan. Tamarack uses the old school building from St. Hedwig’s Catholic Church. The steeple of St. Hedwig’s towers over the other buildings on the street. It is the anchor for the neighborhood. The school building is ancient. It has classrooms with high ceilings, tall windows, and hardwood floors. The school has a feeling of solidity and durability. If you listen closely, you can hear the voices of previous generations of children laughing and yelling in the halls. For me, there are ghosts in the school. Even if I am surrounded by the new parents and their kids, I can still feel the presence of the people who taught and learned in that place a quarter century ago. The school contains echoes of the past, but it is also vibrant with the energy of the latest generation. It’s like life is coming full circle.

Brady Street is an interesting neighborhood. It always has been. Early on, it was an immigrant community of Germans, Poles, and Italians. St. Hedwig’s is named after a Polish saint. There is still an Italian grocery store (Glorioso’s) a few blocks away from the school. Peter Sciortino Bakery is across the street from Tamarack. During the 60’s and 70’s, Brady Street was a hippie hangout. Now, it’s a narrow road lined with bars that cater to a mostly hipster crowd, young people with money. But the neighborhood is still quirky. The community is very LGBTQ friendly. The area is ethnically diverse. Brady is a good street for walking and browsing. There is a paradoxical sense of permanence and simultaneous upheaval. It’s a neighborhood that is alive.

I came to know that area in the 1990’s. I used to go down the block from the school to the Brewed Cafe for coffee. Sometimes, I went there by myself, and sometimes with my wife. Brewed is not there anymore. They closed down a few years ago, and now the place is a Brazilian coffee shop. The new coffee house is nice enough, but it’s not Brewed. The Brewed Cafe had this scruffy, working-class, antiestablishment atmosphere. Once a person managed to get through the front door, which never really opened and closed very well, they would see numerous pamphlets and posters advertising upcoming shows by local bands or political events or art exhibits. The front counter was small and cramped. At busy times of the day, customers lined up almost all the way back to the door. Once at the counter, a person could order coffee or other beverages. They had beer (it’s Wisconsin-almost every establishment serves beer). There was a tiny kitchen in the back where people made vegan sandwiches and other dishes. The folks working at Brewed all had more than usual number of tattoos and piercings. I’m sure they worked for minimum wage, but they got to pick what music was played in the coffee shop.

Even when there were only a few customers, Brewed seemed crowded. Space was at a premium. The tables were small and wobbly. If you ordered coffee, you got that immediately. If you ordered food, it showed up eventually. The walls were covered with works by local artists. The bathrooms were microscopic in size, and the walls were plastered with graffiti and stickers for bands that I had never heard of. The place was clean, but cluttered. Over the years, it had accumulated a variety of objects that somehow lost their purpose and meaning, but remained there, nonetheless. Brewed was oddly comfortable. Going there for coffee or lunch was kind of like going into somebody’s home.

I miss that place. I will have to find another hangout on Brady Street.