The Rudolf Steiner Archive

Thirteenth Lecture

[ 1 ] The Waldorf School is a school for boys and girls, and in my view, this serves two purposes at once. The first purpose is this: to structure instruction based on the whole human being. If there are only boys, instruction will inevitably become one-sided over time. On the other hand, however, the coexistence of boys and girls can also foster the understanding between people that is necessary for social life.

[ 2 ] Such an understanding must, of course, be taken into account in education—especially in our time—simply because women in our social order have now already achieved their position or are striving to achieve it.

[ 3 ] Thus, the educational philosophy on which the Waldorf School is based actually takes modern social aspirations in this regard into account. As a result, there are many aspects of the Waldorf School that are to be cultivated jointly by boys and girls—aspects that would otherwise be completely inaccessible to one gender or the other.

[ 4 ] As you have seen, we place great importance on ensuring that the child is not only educated in terms of mind and soul, but that he or she is educated as a whole person—in mind, soul, and body. That is why we also emphasize physical activity—specifically the kind of physical activity through which a person can be properly and thoughtfully introduced to life.

[ 5 ] And so, here at our Waldorf School, in what we call “handwork” class, you can see boys and girls sitting side by side, knitting and crocheting. You can see that we are not doing anything inhuman here, but rather something very human, from the fact that the boys here actually knit socks and learn to darn them with a certain enthusiasm. They do this without believing that their masculine dignity is in any way compromised by it.

[ 6 ] We do not have the boys practice these various arts so much to teach them these skills, but above all so that an understanding may develop in all directions. For this is indeed one of the main ills of our current social conditions: that one person understands so little of what another does. We must indeed come to the point where we do not stand apart as isolated individuals or groups, but face one another with full understanding. And what is most important, engaging in such manual work makes people skilled in a wide variety of areas.

[ 7 ] It may seem a bit paradoxical, but I am nevertheless convinced that no one can be a proper philosopher who is not capable, when necessary, of darning his own socks or mending his own clothes. How can one possibly gain any reasonable understanding of the world’s greatest mysteries if, when push comes to shove, one cannot even make one’s own footwear? One truly cannot hope to penetrate the world’s mysteries with deep human empathy if one lacks even the slightest dexterity for the simplest of tasks!

[ 8 ] I know this seems paradoxical, but I believe that even a philosopher must have at least some understanding of how boots are made and the like, because otherwise the philosopher becomes a mere theorist.

[ 9 ] Well, these are extreme cases, but by citing them I want to point out how, on the one hand, the ascent to the highest spirituality—and, on the other hand, the descent to physical treatment and physical care—must be present in our educational principle.

[ 10 ] This also enables us to guide the children from these handicraft lessons toward a meaningful practice of true manual skills instruction. At the appropriate age—and quite early on—we encourage the children to make their own toys—as you have seen here in the exhibition we put together of the children’s handicrafts—to carve toys out of wood themselves and thereby combine play with artistic expression.

[ 11 ] It is, in fact, entirely in keeping with what human nature demands when play is gradually transformed into artistic creation, and then also into that practical creation of which I have already spoken. And it is extraordinarily interesting how a certain kind of sculptural, artistic creative activity emerges almost spontaneously in children as they make their own toys.

[ 12 ] And so we can, in turn, bridge the gap between the artistic and the applied arts, so that the children learn to make simple tools and simple household items, but also to use saws, knives, and other tools properly for carpentry and joinery work. And with extraordinary enthusiasm, the children—boys and girls alike—stand in our workshop, eagerly incorporating this work with knives, saws, and other tools into their other lessons, and are happy when they manage to complete items that are useful and practical for everyday life. In this way, all the instincts for life are stimulated. We see how, on the one hand, a sense of practicality and, on the other, a sense of art are truly cultivated.

[ 13 ] As I already mentioned during the discussion of the individual items on display, it is extraordinarily interesting how the children, after learning this or that about the human organism—the three-dimensional structure of the skeletal system, the structure of the muscular system— —that is, once they have been introduced in this artistic way to the structure and functioning of the human body—how these children, who in our program are actually allowed to work with extraordinary freedom in practical activities and to give themselves over to their own inventiveness, then express in their sculptural forms what they have absorbed regarding the structure of this or that human limb, not through slavish imitation, but through free creation. One sees the most remarkable forms emerging from the child’s own soul, depending on what the child has learned to discern—whether about humans or animals—from, I might say, nature’s truly artistic sense.

[ 14 ] In this way, however, we ensure that the child always knows what it knows as a whole person. Just consider that our civilization prepares people in such a way that they actually know everything with their minds. There, the ideas rest in the mind as if on a bed of rest. These ideas are asleep, for they merely “signify” something; one idea signifies this, another signifies that. We carry these ideas within us, stored away as if in little boxes, and otherwise, the human being is not at all involved with his ideas.

[ 15 ] The children at the Waldorf School do not merely have an idea; they feel this idea at all times. This idea permeates their entire emotional life. Their soul lives in accordance with this idea. The idea is not a concept; the idea is a three-dimensional form. The interconnection of ideas ultimately takes on a human form. And then all of this ultimately flows into the will. The child actually learns to do everything that it learns to think. So that thoughts do not reside on one side of the human being, while the will remains on the other side, nourished merely by instinct—and the human being is actually a sort of wasp! There are, after all, wasps like that: they have a head, then a long stinger, and the rest of the body is attached to it from behind. This wasp is actually the outward symbol of the soul-spiritual nature of modern human beings—not in relation to the physical, but in relation to the soul-spiritual: on one side the head, then a long stinger, and only then comes the other part, the volitional aspect. So that, viewed spiritually, one actually sees people today as rather strange: the head is just dangling up there and doesn’t know what to do with its ideas.

[ 16 ] This is precisely what can be overcome when the child is guided to know through feeling and willing at all times. Contemporary pedagogy has, of course, long since recognized that education has become one-sidedly intellectual, that the head is dangling up there, and so it has begun, in turn, to cultivate skill on the other side as well; and today there is already a demand for “schools of skill” alongside “schools of knowledge.” But this does not bring the two things together. The two can only be brought together if knowledge flows naturally into skill, and if skill is at the same time guided in such a way that it is permeated throughout by thinking, by spiritual comprehension, and by intellectual participation.

[ 17 ] This enables us to build the right bridge from this educational foundation back to moral and religious education. I have, of course, already spoken about moral and religious education. I would just like to add today that what matters most is that we conduct all subjects of instruction and all physical exercises in such a way that the child feels in every instance: the physical is the manifestation of the spiritual, and the spiritual seeks to flow creatively into the physical in every instance; so that, so to speak, the child never feels a separation between spirit and body.

[ 18 ] If that is the case, then the moral and religious aspects are properly rooted in the child’s feelings. And this is precisely where our main focus should lie: that we do not seek to make the child moral and religious through catechism-like commandments between the time of losing baby teeth and reaching sexual maturity, but rather educate the child to be moral and religious by influencing their feelings and sensibilities through our authority—and, as I have already explained for this age group—by working toward the child learning to take pleasure in being good and feel aversion to evil—so that the child learns to love what is good and not to love what is evil.

[ 19 ] History lessons can be conducted in such a way that we present historical figures, historical individuals, and the specific influences of each era in a manner that allows the child to develop vivid moral and religious sympathies and antipathies. Then we achieve something that is extraordinarily important.

[ 20 ] When the child has reached sexual maturity—that is, the age of fifteen or sixteen—a profound inner transformation takes place, through which the child moves from a tendency toward authority to a sense of freedom, and through this sense of freedom to the maturity of judgment and to their own insight. This is a development that must be taken into account in the most intensive way possible in education and instruction. If we have awakened feelings for good and evil, for the divine and the non-divine, up until puberty, then after puberty the child begins to experience these feelings welling up from within. Their reason, intellect, insight, and power of judgment are not influenced; rather, they can now judge freely from within themselves.

[ 21 ] If we teach a child a commandment from the very beginning—if we tell the child, “You must do this, and refrain from doing that”—then the child carries this commandment into later life, and one is then constantly confronted with the judgment: “One may do this, but one must not do that.” — Everything develops according to convention. But today, people should no longer be confined to convention in their upbringing; rather, they should also form their own judgments regarding moral and religious matters. This develops naturally if we do not force the issue too early.

[ 22 ] We send the young person out into the world at the age of fourteen or fifteen. We then place them on an equal footing with us. They look back on our authority and continue to hold us dear if we were good teachers and educators; but they begin to form their own judgments. We have not truly captured their hearts if we have merely appealed to their emotions. And so, by the time they are fourteen or fifteen, we set their soul and spirit free; we proceed on this basis even in the so-called upper grades, dealing with the students from that point on in a way that appeals to their own power of judgment and insight. This setting free into life can never be achieved by dogmatically or prescriptively teaching morality and religion, but rather by appealing solely to feelings and emotions at the appropriate age—between the loss of baby teeth and sexual maturity. This is the only way to send a person out into the world so that they can then trust their own power of judgment.

[ 23 ] And then one achieves the point where a person—because they have been raised in a truly human way—learns to feel and perceive themselves as a whole person. They cannot perceive themselves as a whole person if they have the misfortune of being missing a leg or an arm; in that case, they view themselves as a mutilated person. Children who are raised as described begin, around the ages of fourteen or fifteen, to regard themselves as maimed if they are not imbued with moral judgment and religious feeling. They then feel that something is missing from them as human beings. And this is precisely what we can pass on to people as the finest religious and moral heritage: when we educate them to regard morality and religion as integral to their humanity—so that they do not feel like complete human beings unless they are imbued with morality and warmed by religion.

[ 24 ] However, this can only be achieved if one does not introduce religious and moral concepts at too early an age, but instead appeals solely to the child’s sensibilities and emotions at the appropriate age. If one introduces these concepts before the age of twelve or fourteen, one raises skeptics—people who, later on, instead of developing a sound understanding of the dogmas they were taught, they develop skepticism—at first, skepticism of thought (which causes the least harm), but then skepticism of feeling—and as a result, they become people with poor emotional sensitivity. And finally, skepticism of the will, which leads one to truly stray from the moral path.

[ 25 ] The point, then, is that we should not raise our children to be skeptical by instilling dogmatic ideals—moral and religious ones—in them too early, but rather that we should simply instill these moral and religious values in their hearts. Then, at the right age, children will be awakened to their own free religiosity and morality. They will then possess these qualities, and they will feel that it is these that make them whole human beings.

[ 26 ] And so this focus on the free human being—the person who knows how to chart their own course in life—is what we strive for above all else in the Waldorf school.

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[ 27 ] The Waldorf School is a self-contained organism, and many things—especially the principles that govern this school—can be misunderstood if one fails to consider how the school is conceived as a whole organism. For example, one might think that by visiting this school for one, two, or three days and observing what goes on during those two or three days, one has seen enough: one has seen how teaching is done at this Waldorf School.

[ 28 ] That is not the case. One did not actually see anything special. What one saw there is comparable to a piece cut out of a whole picture, which one then uses to judge the entire picture.

[ 29 ] Imagine you have a large historical picture; you cut out a small piece and show it to someone. That person will not be able to judge the whole picture based on that small piece; for the very essence of the Waldorf school is that every single activity is integrated into the organism of the entire school. So you learn much more about the Waldorf school when you get to know its principles, its entire structure, and the organic interplay—let’s say—between the eighth and fourth grades, or the first and tenth grades—than when you examine a single, isolated fragment. For the school’s organization is designed so that every single activity takes its proper place in time and harmonizes with the whole. And from this perspective, the individual subjects are also integrated into the school.

[ 30 ] I would like to briefly examine the principle behind the integration of individual school subjects into the school curriculum—specifically in the case of eurythmy—in a sort of episodic manner.

[ 31 ] Nothing should really be invented for the school and its activities. If, in any way—as happened to an excessive degree in Fröbel’s kindergarten—one devises special things that are good for the children, if one prepares things specifically for the children and then says, “This is part of education; this must be taught to the child,” then one is generally adhering to a false principle.

[ 32 ] Nothing should be invented for school; rather, everything should essentially be drawn from life itself. The teacher should have a free, unbiased view of life, should understand life, and should be able to teach and educate the children in school about this life that he or she understands. The more closely the teacher is connected to real life, the better the school will be served. Narrow-minded teachers who know nothing of life except school are therefore the least significant when it comes to what can actually make a human being a human being. And so we did not introduce eurythmy into the school based on the idea that: “We now need gymnastic exercises for school; we must prepare something special for the children”—no, eurythmy did not originally arise as an educational matter at all; eurythmy arose from certain twists of fate around the year 1912, but initially not as an educational act at all, rather it arose from artistic intentions, as art. And one will always regard eurythmy as something imperfect when it comes to education if one separates a specific form of educational eurythmy from artistic eurythmy.

[ 33 ] It would therefore have seemed much more appropriate to me if the artistic eurythmy performances had been presented first at this event, so that people could have seen how eurythmy is conceived as an art. Because it is an art, it is rooted in life, and then what is rooted in life is transferred to educational forms; so that one can truly assess eurythmy for children only after gaining an understanding of what eurythmy itself will one day be as an art—though perhaps it is already something more today than some people believe.

[ 34 ] Eurythmy as an art form emerged around 1912; at first, it was practiced solely as an art, and we established the Waldorf School in 1919. And because we discovered that the art of eurythmy could also be applied to children’s education, we introduced eurythmy into the school.

[ 35 ] But that is secondary. One should see this connection in all things if one wishes to consider the relationship between school and life. One should understand that it is not a matter of establishing a special form of painting for children; rather, if one believes that children should grow into painting in some way, then the principles must be drawn from the living art of painting itself, not from a pedagogically contrived method. It is the truly artistic that must then be brought into the school, not something that has been devised intellectually. And it is precisely through eurythmy that it is possible to reintegrate the purely artistic into human civilization.

[ 36 ] The fact that eurythmy is a dynamic, visible language has already been discussed here on several occasions and has, in fact, been the subject of the introductions to the performances. I would now like to add just a few more points that shed even more light on the relationship between eurythmy and the arts in general, using the figures as an example.

[ 37 ] These figures were created at Miss Maryon’s suggestion, but were then executed entirely in accordance with the intentions that I myself, based on the laws of eurythmy, consider to be absolutely correct.

[ 38 ] I would like to use figures like these in particular to show you—here you have the embodiment of the “S” sound (the wooden, painted figure representing the “S” sound is shown)—how eurythmy is actually conceived as an art form. When you look at a figure like this, it does, after all, represent a human being. But someone who, in the spirit of today’s civilization and conventions, expects to see what is called a “pretty person” does not exactly see a pretty person there. They do not see at all what they find appealing in a person when they encounter someone on the street.

[ 39 ] Now, when one shapes such figures, one may well already have a taste for a beautiful person, but the task is precisely not to use the shaping of these figures to bring that beautiful person to life, but rather to express what is directly manifested in eurythmy: human movement. And so, apart from everything that does not constitute the form of the movement itself—the feeling one can have toward this movement, and the fundamental character that this movement expresses, which permeates it—

[ 40 ] When you sing, you take what moves the soul and physically incorporate it fully into your own organism. Then what moves a person flows entirely beneath their skin, and the movement remains completely invisible; it is entirely transformed into audible sound.

[ 41 ] This is music in motion. What the soul feels detaches itself entirely from the human being, becomes the human being’s movement in space, and the artistic is expressed in the form that this movement takes. One sees what one would otherwise hear. One must therefore focus only on that which becomes movement. Thus, everything else that a person possesses by nature is abstracted here, and attention is directed solely to that which a person becomes while performing eurythmy. And I have expressed this in particular by indicating each movement through carvings in the wood; these then have a specific base color.

[ 42 ] Here, next to each figure, you will find the base color corresponding to the movement written in reverse; you will also find the base color corresponding to what is called “feeling” written there. When you see the eurythmists on stage mastering their veils, this is essentially a continuation of the movement. And this will develop further in such a way that, at the appropriate moment, there is always a letting the veil flow, a drawing back of the veil, a catching of the veil—a complete shaping of the veil. Thus, the movement executed by the limbs is embodied in what now expresses the feeling in the handling of the veil. And we see the feeling come to expression in the billowing of the veil.

[ 43 ] If the eurythmist senses that the movement he is making with his arms and legs is correct, then this sensed movement will instinctively carry over into the veil treatment, and he will experience the feeling that is meant to accompany the movement during the veil treatment.

[ 44 ] The third point is that the eurythmist can take his feeling so far that, for example, when he makes this movement, I, he actually extends his arm slightly in this direction, so that he feels the arm floating very lightly in the air, not permeated by inner strength. He feels the other arm as if he were summoning all his muscular strength and pouring it thickly into the arm. One arm is raised with ease (the right arm); the other arm (the left arm) is tense, with a constant sensation in the muscles akin to a slight prickling. This imbues the movement with character. This infusion of character into the movement is then conveyed to the audience. The audience then begins to feel it as well.

[ 45 ] People look at these figures and ask: Where is the face here, and where is the back of the head? That is none of one’s business in eurythmy. After all, in eurythmy it may well be the case that one is a little taken with a pretty face that is depicted in the eurythmy. But that is not part of the spirit of eurythmy. This face, which looks as if it were turned to your left, is actually facing straight ahead, and this color is used precisely for characterization, because the eurythmist is supposed to feel the right side of his head as if lightly rippled by eurythmic force, and the left side of his head tautly permeated by inner force, so that, in a sense, his head puffs up asymmetrically here and he feels tense here. This is what brings the right character to the performance. These figures express precisely what one should see in eurythmy. And that should actually be present in all artistic expression. One should be able to look beyond the material, the content, and the prosaic, and move on to the artistic and poetic. A beautiful girl’s face is like prose in eurythmy. What she achieves—the way she has the right side of her head lightly infused with strength while keeping the left side taut—that is what actually creates eurythmic beauty. And so one might imagine that even a very ugly face could become extraordinarily beautiful in eurythmy, and a very beautiful face—forgive me—could appear quite ugly in eurythmy.

[ 46 ] This is particularly evident in eurythmy, which—as every artist will agree—applies to all art in the truest sense. It is not merely the artist who can paint a beautiful young woman’s face appealingly who is a great artist; rather, the true painter must, under certain circumstances, also be able to paint an old, withered, wrinkled face in such a way that it can appear beautiful in art. This must underlie all art.

[ 47 ] I wanted to add this regarding the eurythmy that has been presented in the mental images here. I would just like to say that eurythmy has been incorporated into teaching and education because it serves as a truly wonderful counterpart to physical education. Take, for example, what is called “Turnen” in Germany. As mentioned, physical exercises are certainly given sufficient attention in our Waldorf school, but if you consider this external gymnastics, you will see that the forms of this gymnastics are structured in such a way that, in every exercise a person performs, they first perceive the space—the spatial orientation. And the spatial orientation is actually there first. So the person perceives the spatial orientation and then extends their arm into that spatial orientation. Thus, through gymnastics, the person relates to space.

[ 48 ] This is the only healthy way to approach gymnastic exercises. Space is defined on all sides. Our abstract conception of space envisions three perpendicular spatial directions standing on top of one another, which we cannot distinguish at all. These exist only in geometry. In reality, we have our head at the top and our legs at the bottom: that is up and down. Then we have left and right. We live within this orientation when we stretch out our arms. It is not at all a matter of where the absolute direction lies: the fact that we can turn—that is what matters most. And then we have front and back. All other spatial directions are oriented toward these. They extend, break apart, and recede. And if one discovers space in this way, then one discovers healthy movement for gymnastics and physical exercise. There, the human being surrenders to space.

[ 49 ] When he performs eurythmy, the character of the movement is drawn from the human organism. The question then is this: What does the soul experience when it makes this movement, when it makes that movement? — This is precisely how the individual sounds in eurythmy come about. What happens when you pour your energy into your limbs? While in external gymnastic exercises we have the person project themselves into space, in eurythmy we allow the person, in accordance with their nature, to perform the movement outwardly in the way the organism itself demands. Allowing the inner to move outward—that is the essence of eurythmy. Filling the outer world from within the human being, so that the human being connects with the external world—that is the essence of gymnastics.

[ 50 ] If one wishes to educate the whole person, one can let this very aspect of gymnastics spring from the other pole—the one where human movement is drawn entirely from within, as in eurythmy. But in any case, whenever eurythmy is used in instruction, it must always be drawn from the artistic understanding of eurythmy.

[ 51 ] It is my conviction that the best gymnastics teachers are those who learned their craft from the arts. The Greeks drew their inspiration and impetus for their school gymnastics and their Olympic Games from the arts. And if one fully follows through on the implications of this contrast—that is, deriving everything in the school context from the arts—then one will find, in the other branches of life as well, what I have demonstrated using the example of eurythmy. One will not invent something special for the classroom, but will seek to bring life into the school. Then life within the social order will also be able to grow out of the school once again.

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[ 52 ] In the organism—as I have described it—that a school is meant to form, each individual is organically integrated into it, and all the various strands of activity that must be carried out so that the entire organism of the Waldorf school can thrive converge in the teachers’ conferences, which take place as often as possible. And I am personally present at a significant number of these teachers’ conferences throughout the year. These teachers’ conferences are not merely intended to prepare report cards for the students, to discuss the school’s administrative matters and the like, or to decide on the punishments to be imposed on students when they have committed this or that offense and the like; rather, these school conferences are, in fact, the ongoing, living university for the teaching staff. They are the ongoing seminar.

[ 53 ] This is because, for the teacher, every single experience he or she has at school becomes a subject for his or her own teaching and for his or her own education. And indeed, whoever, in this way—by teaching and educating—gains, on the one hand, the deepest psychological insight into the immediate practice of teaching and education, and on the other hand, into the particular characteristics — the children’s characters and temperaments — who derives such self-education, such instruction for themselves from the practice of teaching, will continually find something new. Something new for themselves, something new for the entire teaching staff, with whom all the experiences and insights gained in the practice of teaching are to be shared in faculty meetings. So that the teaching staff truly forms a unified whole—spiritually and emotionally—and so that everyone knows what the others are doing, what experiences the others have had, and to what extent the others have progressed through what they have experienced in the classroom with the children.

[ 54 ] In this way, the teaching staff truly becomes a central body from which the very lifeblood of teaching practice can flow, and the teacher thereby remains fresh and vibrant.

[ 55 ] The greatest benefit will likely be that, through such conferences and this conference life, teachers will continually remain vibrant within—and will not, in reality, grow old emotionally and spiritually; for this is precisely what a teacher must strive for: to remain young emotionally and spiritually. But this can only happen when a true spiritual-soul life-force flows toward a central organ, just as human blood flows to the heart and flows out again from there. This is concentrated as a system of spiritual and soul forces in what is sought in the Waldorf school as the life of the teachers’ conferences, which are held weekly and, as I said, also from time to time in my presence.

[ 56 ] I’d just like to mention one small thing, but it’s significant. “We have,” I said, “classes with boys and girls mixed together. Since we naturally draw children from real life, we have some classes where girls are in the majority, others where boys are in the majority, and still others where the number of boys and girls is roughly equal—and one can completely disregard what is happening on the surface: a rationalist or an intellectualist will come along and explain such things in a rationalist or intellectualist way; but that usually misses the mark when it comes to what constitutes real life. When teaching a class where girls are in the majority, the atmosphere inside is quite different from that in a class where girls and boys are equally numbered or where boys are in the majority. Classes do not derive their character from what the boys and girls might even get up to together—all sorts of little frivolities—but simply from intangible factors, from things that are entirely beyond external, intellectual observation; classes acquire their distinctive character through the majority of one gender or the other. And it is here that the most fascinating insights can be gained when one continuously studies the entire, ineffable, imponderable life of the class in this way. Naturally, one does not enter the classroom as a teacher who simply stands there, then steps back a bit, and studies his students with his arms crossed. If the teacher instructs with the necessary vitality and dedication to the students, then simply by having processed what happened in the right way even during sleep, he will wake up the next morning with very significant insights into what took place at school the previous day; he will then be able to bring this to his consciousness in a relatively short time; everything that is meant to happen in this way will proceed as a matter of course.

[ 57 ] And just as the teachers’ conference is essential to us at the center, so too—on the periphery—what we do at parent-teacher conferences is extraordinarily important to us. We try to hold parent-teacher meetings at least once a month, or at any rate from time to time. At these meetings, we try to bring together the parents whose children attend our school and who are able to attend, and the teachers explain to the parents what can help build a connection between the students and their families. And it is precisely this understanding on the part of the parents—one that is in harmony with the entire school system—that we rely on so heavily. Since we teach and educate not based on regulations or programs, but out of a living reality, we cannot simply say: “You have followed the curriculum prescribed to you by this or that authority, so you have done the right thing.” We must, in turn, learn to sense what is right through living interaction with those who, as parents and as those responsible, have entrusted their children to our care at school. And through this feedback, which comes back to the teachers at parent-teacher conferences, what the teacher needs—specifically, what the teacher needs to remain inwardly alive—is also revitalized from the other side.

[ 58 ] A living being does not live merely because it is enclosed within a skin. Nor is a human being simply what is contained within the space enclosed by that skin. At every moment, we carry a certain amount of air within us; that air was previously outside, and it belonged to the entire atmosphere. We will soon have exhaled the air we hold within us; it will once again be part of the entire atmosphere. A living being belongs to the whole world and is inconceivable without the whole world; it is merely a link in the universe. $o the same is true of human beings in relation to the entirety of existence and life in general. Human beings are not isolated entities within the social order; rather, they are fully integrated into this social order. They cannot live without being connected to the external aspects of the social order just as they are connected to air and water—just as the physical human being is enclosed within the skin. And to realize that, in this regard, schools have an extraordinarily important role to play today, one need not look very far at all. I always try not to draw the things that are meant to characterize from far-fetched, abstract lines of thought, but rather to take them from the very immediate context.

[ 59 ] A few days ago, I went into the adjoining room at the college and found reports from the Sunday school leaders there. The first sentence gets right to the point: At the annual meeting of the Sunday School Union, one of the chairmen—who is a very prominent figure—said that the leadership of the Sunday schools had gradually evolved into an extraordinary exclusivity, a separation from the rest of religious life, and that far too little was known about the rest of religious life.

[ 60 ] You see, I just took this from the table in there, in the next room, and it’s a vivid illustration of what we need to revitalize our current civilization. I could just as easily have gone to another table and taken something from there, or had someone give me something on the street—you’ll find it everywhere: what people aren’t taught today is the breadth of perspective on life, the full understanding of life. This is precisely what we need in Waldorf school teachers, and what we must then pass on from the teacher to the students, so that, through education and instruction, life is indeed driven more and more toward broader horizons of interest.

[ 61 ] How everyone isolates themselves these days! How the system of specialists has developed! People are ashamed to know anything that doesn’t fall squarely within the confines of their field. That’s when you have to go to the expert.

[ 62 ] The point at issue is this: that people become open-hearted, that they can take part in the life of civilization as a whole with their hearts. This is something that the principles of the educational approach advocated here seek to instill, first in the teaching staff—for the Waldorf School was originally concerned with the education of the teaching staff—and, indirectly through the teaching staff, in the student body. And the students—this is our great hope, our goal, which we keep in mind with every single measure we take—the students are to carry this out into life in a proper way.

[ 63 ] That, my esteemed audience, is, I would say, the mindset that underlies the pedagogy I have now had the privilege of discussing with you here. This form of education is directed solely and exclusively toward drawing out from within the human being itself whatever is to serve as the means of education and instruction, so that the whole human being—body, soul, and spirit—may reach its full development; while, on the other hand, placing the human being in life in such a way that, as a child, he or she has grown—in body, soul, and spirit—toward the religious, the ethical, the artistic, and the life of knowledge, and can develop those virtues through which a person can be most useful and fruitful to his or her fellow human beings. It is only in this way that a person is truly well-educated—that is, when they can serve their fellow human beings to the best of their ability. Ultimately, every educational ideal must be directed toward this end. I am extremely grateful to the organizers here for giving me the opportunity to speak about such an educational ideal.

[ 64 ] You will have seen that, although the Waldorf school principle does indeed originate from a very specific linguistic region, it is by no means a national phenomenon, but rather something international in the best sense of the word, because it is universally human. We wish to educate not the members of any particular class, not the members of any particular nation, not the members of any form of isolation whatsoever, but rather people with the broadest, most heartfelt human interests. That is why it is appropriate to feel that, even though this education was initially developed in a specific linguistic region, one may also speak of it in another linguistic region—since this education is, after all, international in this sense.

[ 65 ] My satisfaction was all the greater, then, when I saw that, based on what had been discussed at these conferences, a committee had been formed that aims to actively implement the Waldorf school principle here by establishing a school.

[ 66 ] Well, when we approach the establishment of such schools today, we can still do nothing other than what was the fate of the Waldorf School: we can only create, so to speak, models—exemplary schools. For only when the principles underlying this educational system are understood by the broadest circles of public opinion can the impulse given here truly bear fruit in the right way.

[ 67 ] I remember from my youth how I once read something in a humor magazine that made fun of architects’ plans—I already mentioned something similar yesterday. The humor magazine, which was aimed at people with a rather philistine mindset—since it had subscribers in those circles—said: One shouldn’t turn to an architect who wants to draw all sorts of things, calculate every detail, and even arrange things artistically; instead, one should turn to a simple bricklayer who simply lays brick upon brick. - Well, this mindset still prevails to a great extent, particularly with regard to education and the school system. People find what the architect does here somewhat abstruse compared to the bricklayer who lays the bricks, and they would prefer that bricks simply be laid one on top of another, without delving into what must truly underlie the structure.

[ 68 ] But I am extremely grateful that there was such a wonderful spirit of understanding and interest within this very circle. Above all, however, I would like to extend my heartfelt thanks to Miss Beverley and her colleagues. I would also like to thank the dear Waldorf School teachers and the other friends who came along to this event and who contributed to these conferences in such a wonderful, truly commendable way; I would also like to thank all those who contributed artistically during these days. I would like to thank all those who in any way contributed to making this conference possible, which I hope the committee will make truly fruitful; thank you all for your attention and for the interest you have shown in this cause.

[ 69 ] The further we go in broadening this interest, the more we will also be able to serve the school system, the teaching system, and the educational system. And you have certainly shown through your lively engagement these past few days that this is a matter close to your hearts. With these words, I would like to conclude these lectures—which I have delivered here not merely from an intellectual perspective, but out of a genuine concern for everything that underlies education—with a farewell greeting.

[ 70 ] According to the translation:

[ 71 ] One last word: Throughout the entire conference, it has certainly become clear to every participant just how much dedication—and how much determination to resolve the issue—Mr. George Kaufmann has brought to his work of translating the lectures. In previous lectures as well, I have always found that Mr. Kaufmann has truly translated everything in such a way that he has captured the intentions in a rare and precise manner—so much so that the lectures simply could not exist without his translation; but strangely enough, he has consistently failed to translate those very last words that I have spoken, even back in Oxford. Therefore, I would like to ask our friend Mr. Collison to announce as loudly as possible that, from the bottom of my heart, I hereby express my well-deserved gratitude to Mr. Kaufmann for his extraordinarily significant services as a translator. Farewell Address