In Waldorf schools, students are required to recite letters of recommendation every week, but they provide an example of bullying and shame.
The boy probably has a problem with his report card. Photo: Thomas Koehler/imago
I am a Saturday child. I know this because, like most Waldorf children, we always recite the testimony on the day of the week we were born. In my case, it was the day before. You receive a certificate as part of your certificate during your eight years as a classroom teacher and recite it every week.
When it was my turn, the teacher called me. I ran forward, stood in front of the board, said my words, and quickly ran back to safety. It was the most ordinary thing in the world. Everyone did it. It is estimated that 50,000 German children will read their testimonies this week.
Three years ago, I reread the recommendation letter and it broke my heart. I was shocked at how harmless I thought it was and how seriously I took it. The worst comment was from a 4th grader.
“It is strength to be quiet by oneself. I am happy to be with others. I hope that everything will be prosperous and free from stubbornness.”
Morning ritual
So everyone, including myself, knew that I was stubborn and talkative, and I reminded myself of that every week. Or as Prange, the education professor, puts it, “I had my self-image publicly conscious and confirmed.” That was the way it was. It wouldn’t have worked anyway. I’ve never had a child get a new report card because they didn’t like the one on theirs.
When a child forgets something, mumbles, stutters, or speaks too softly, he or she receives help from the homeroom teacher. Sometimes this is kind, sometimes it is humiliating or teasing. Children who speak short words that are not too obviously corrective are envied.
I was too dreamy, too intelligent, too stubborn, too reckless. Other kids were too shy, too impatient, too loud, too quiet, couldn’t finish things, or had to be more efficient. I always knew when someone said something, for me and for everyone else.
If you ask, most Waldorf children can tell you a scary story about their testimony. The classmate who always cries and recites her words, or the classmate who clicks her tongue gets a special word that makes a lot of hissing sounds, or the Wednesday child has a big belly. Every Wednesday morning, she is home sick. And even if it was easy for you and you were lucky, you may see other children struggling every week. At the time, I treated it as reasonable normal, but it did something to me.
Steep template for bullying
Horst Hellmann, who works internationally in Waldorf teacher training, says: “The proverb is studied year-round, so the essence of the testimony is always there, but it is not a moral finger-pointing, but rather, if it works, it is a ‘work’. It is a form of ‘Joy’. And if it doesn’t work? Then it becomes an example of bullying and shame.
How can trained educators think it’s a good idea to have kids recite the poetic high notes of their report cards in front of the entire class so they can “grow up”?!
