Waldorf Ways

How Can I Help My Child to Be More Resilient?

In episode 7, Sarah and Donovan discuss resilience as not something to teach as an idea but something children must acquire along the journey. How do we offer the conditions and environments that will encourage situations where they can acquire resilience? The conversation dives into aspects of will forces, inner steadiness, the child’s temperament, con…

5 days ago · Wonderfully Human Podcast

This Week’s Steiner Quote

Waldorf Ways — Tue, 25 Aug 2026 09:11:12 GMT

This quote sits very closely with what I was writing about this week. Looking honestly at my own teaching is not about finding fault, but recognising that I am still learning and becoming as a teacher.

Was That Really a Good Lesson?

Waldorf Ways — Sun, 23 Aug 2026 10:52:12 GMT

When looking back at my teaching, I’d honestly say that my first judgement is not always the most accurate conclusion.

I did a main lesson a few years back that went very well and the children produced amazing main lesson books, written and artistic work. I remember clearly thinking at the time how well it was all going and being very happy. However, when we came to reviewing the work at the end of the block and again at the end of the year, I realised it was not all as I thought. The children remembered very little and some even said they had forgotten the main lesson. Somehow, I had missed the mark entirely and not noticed at the time. On further reflection, I had kept them very busy and engaged in activities which they enjoyed but the focus on the content had become secondary and that was now evident.

For paid subscribers, I continue by looking at the harder part of honest reflection: when a lesson seems to have gone well but perhaps hasn’t.

A New Episode of Wonderfully Human

Waldorf Ways — Thu, 20 Aug 2026 16:31:59 GMT

Sarah and I explore how parents and teachers can support children who experience anxiety. We look at what children need to feel safe and grounded, and the importance of observing the individual child rather than looking for one answer that fits every child. We also discuss sleep, rhythm, working with the hands and how we can sometimes adapt what we are doing to help bring greater balance.

Here is the link

How to Support a Child with Anxiety

In episode 6, Sarah and Donovan offer insights and ideas for teaching and parenting children who experience anxiety. When we ask what children need, rather than what we should teach them, we help support their inner capacities for feeling safe and grounded in their body. We have the responsibility as parents and teachers to observe what each individual…

12 days ago · 2 likes · Wonderfully Human Podcast

This Week’s Steiner Quote

Waldorf Ways — Wed, 19 Aug 2026 16:33:21 GMT

This quote connects very closely to what I was writing about this week. For me, good preparation means knowing the material so well that I can let go of the plan when I need to and be free with what happens in the classroom.

How Much Preparation Is Enough?

Waldorf Ways — Mon, 17 Aug 2026 10:22:44 GMT

^{My own preparation materials from this week.}

I do love preparing, but August can all too easily become a race, extending myself well beyond what I need to do.

The love of being ready and prepared can sometimes bog me down in the small details that eventually hold me back. I know, ridiculously, every year I dream of finding the perfect planner that will hold all the things I need to do and remember, and that will give me peace of mind. After a few weeks of endlessly looking, I never find it, I just dive in and start.

Through the summer I have worked with enthusiasm on the practical things that need doing and once they are done, I have to delve into the lessons and preparing myself. The painting of the classroom, the curtains, sanding desks, ordering and packing away materials are the simple things really. Once they are done, I need to start preparing the blocks and the lessons, but to be fair those have been forming since I started the physical work. My mind looks ahead and starts thinking of stories and ideas and structures etc.

As much as I love preparation, it’s that moment when I sit down at my desk and am faced with the blank page I dread. It’s silly really as my head is filled with ideas and inspiration.

Then the lists begin, the page fills quickly with all the things I can think to do to get ready. The more I write down, the more things I think of. It’s a start for me to see the whole lot and then stop and reassess. I put the long list aside and start simple, not grand plans filled with details but just the order of the blocks. And I’m off.

Then I’m in my happy place, sorting, sifting, reading, drawing, collecting, building the year ahead. I love this part of the work as, although it can be daunting, it’s really all about hope for me. It’s all about possibilities and opportunities that lie ahead.

I have been known to sit in my prepared classroom and just quietly imagine the year ahead, filling the room with children and the lessons I might bring to them. My desk is piled with books covering lesson content, grammar, maths, crafts, festivals etc, all the things that I will need to know for the upcoming year. I read and think and imagine, then read again and draw or plan. Slowly things begin to coalesce and the year starts taking on a structure and form.

At this point I need to be very conscious of my progress as, if not, I end up following the to-do list and things start to become a rush. Every item ticked off gives me another task to add and then suddenly I have to do a million things in not enough time. The tendency to rush is real and can become consuming. I work hard to avoid this as the rush, in my experience, gets you nowhere you want to be. A completed list is not adequate preparation and often leaves you with something lacking or missing.

I consciously carry the sword to cut that list monster’s head. I have learned over the years that preparation can look different each year. But the core thing for me is understanding what enough preparation is.

For me the easy preparation is the things that are simply completed, like the ordering of books, arranging the desks, ordering paints etc. These all don’t need more than doing and then you’re done. Even sketching out the year of blocks is easily done or completing the list of grammar or maths outcomes you have to cover in the year ahead. These are easy.

Some things take time, need more, have to live with us before they get anywhere. A block may need more consideration after a preliminary outline. It may need reading several stories, checking historical information. These things need to live in you for a while before you try to turn them into a fixed lesson or detailed plan. The main lesson morning rhythm time can have a preliminary plan but it can’t really be locked down until you have the children start doing it, to identify weaknesses and strengths and make adjustments. A story needs to be reread several times so that you know it inside out, so that you can find the right way to tell it to your class.

Some things need time to mature in us, to develop, to become really living in our own beings before we commit them.

When I have worked for a period of time reading, researching, taking notes and planning something, I deliberately walk away from it. I go and walk the dogs, do some gardening, make bread, anything to literally break away from the head work. I do this because what I have learned needs to settle in me, find a place to rest, so to say. I don’t rush to turn it into a plan, I leave it. A long walk in nature is excellent as it really allows this transformation to happen in me. It’s NOT a break from preparation, it’s a vital part of it. It is, in my opinion, a required part of the process.

I think it’s important to name the magnitude of what we are doing in August. We are forming the overall shape of roughly 36 weeks of teaching and this is a huge task. This being said, I can very easily fall again into the trap that I need detailed planning for every element of the upcoming year, that this will give me security and confidence in all I do. But these over-prepared plans can become a noose around your neck. The imagined security becomes a list of criteria I must meet and so all that security simply transforms into stress. I am also easily drawn to over-planning when I feel less confident about a block or section of the curriculum and feel that when I get very detailed planning done, I will find confidence. This exposes a real dilemma for me, where my experience can be cast aside and I feel I have to be absolutely prepared so I have control of what is coming.

Experience has taught me so much about preparation, most importantly that it can change dramatically from year to year depending on the curriculum, the age of the class and my own strengths and weaknesses.

What really comes to the fore for me when I plan is experience, it is so important. It’s taught me about myself as a teacher, how I can work most effectively and exactly what I need my preparation to do. As a new young teacher, I had nothing to fall back on, training can’t give you experience. That new teacher me, filled with ideas and plans, fell short more often than not, and thankfully so. It humbled me and it made me learn about who I was as a teacher.

That experience now guides my planning: which lessons need more concrete plans and which can be freer and more open. So, some blocks I will plan daily and others I will build the shape of the block but not concentrate so much on everyday prep. That comes the night before.

The most wonderful thing experience has taught me was that with all the prep you do, sometimes the best and most wondrous ideas happen in the moment while you are teaching. All that preparation, research and additional reading all sit waiting for that moment when it sparks into life and you use it there and then in the moment. This does not happen daily at all, but it happens often enough for me to be ready for it.

What is preparation really for? Not for the school records or inspectors, but for the teacher!

It’s most definitely not, in my experience, about being able to control what will happen but the opposite: it makes me ready to meet what happens in the classroom. Preparation includes everything that needs to be done before the first day of the block, from practical things through to the deep inner work. It gives us a solid understanding of what we are about to teach and grounds us in that knowledge and, most importantly, it means we start grounded and present and not secretly frantic about what we are about to do.

That preparation allows us to be ready and yet still allows space for the children, as they really are my guides in many ways. When we have all the preparation done, we have confidence and the capacity to be free with the material. When underprepared, we don’t have the confidence, so we can’t leave space for the children to give us the lead, we rely on our plans only.

So that’s me, someone who makes the lists but also lets go of them. I make sure the room is just right, the materials all sorted, paints ready but I also let go of the tightness and live into the preparation in a much looser way. I still do the work, but I don’t try to capture it word for word in plans, I let it live in me, it needs time to settle, mature and spring forth when needed.

It comes down to learning over the years that it’s ok to let something not be resolved, not listed, not planned in detail. Trust in the process and the very act of what it means to be a Waldorf teacher: we are not just working with information and plans, we are working deeply in ourselves, with the angels, with sleep, with meditation so that ALL these things coalesce into what and who we are when we stand in front of our class on the first day of a block.

August is not about being ready for every eventuality, but about being ready for what arises after all the preparation and inner work.

This Week's Steiner Quote

Waldorf Ways — Wed, 12 Aug 2026 08:40:16 GMT

I am sadly aware that it has become common practice to speak about Waldorf education without ever mentioning Anthroposophy at all. Yet for Steiner, Anthroposophy was NOT an optional addition to the education. It was the wellspring from which the teacher’s understanding of the human being was meant to flow.

August Is Not Just About Preparing for September

Waldorf Ways — Sun, 09 Aug 2026 15:35:56 GMT

The end-of-year festival is done, the children have collected their books, paintings and craft items and taken them home. The classroom is a bit of a mess, desks still open, chairs higgledy-piggledy. The bin is overflowing with things the class did not want that were left in their desks. The walls are bare, the blackboard still has old work partially rubbed off where children drew on the board, wishing me and the other children a great summer. The dust begins to settle. It is quiet and still.

Months of activity and hard work all come to a dead stop. Me, ever ready with lessons and dealing with difficulties, suddenly still. The tough meetings with parents, colleagues and College are all silent now. I begin to just stop, knowing my reports are written (I always try to finish them before the end of term) and all I have left to do is collect what I need and head home.

I often take a few minutes to savour this moment, a year complete, filled with work, song, play, reading, crafting and so much more. All complete. A moment to just let go of the year for now.

I take a deep breath and go home.

After a few days or weeks, my perception of the year begins to change. Everything that seemed so important at the end of term feels further away and, with that distance, not as pressing as I had thought. Those last few days of term are filled with so much: writing reports, finalising school admin, sorting out costumes for an end-of-year play, arranging an end-of-term activity with the class, getting children to finish work before the last day and a myriad of other things. From here, they just don’t feel as huge. The year takes on a different quality as I begin to look back on it; everything seems less disastrous and pressing now. The year becomes a tableau in my mind that I look on with new eyes. Big events seem smaller and things I hardly noticed start to be seen in a different light. I start to slowly see the year more holistically: how each block was connected to the next, how the children changed from term to term and how not only the children but I evolved and changed over the year.

These summer days away from the class remind me that while we are teaching, we are often too close, too involved to always see the bigger picture of the year.

June and July slip away as I busy myself with things that are not school related: gardening, holidays, reading or some artistic activity. However, my school and my class always sit just there in the back of my mind. Like most teachers I know, the gathering of material never stops: an article in a magazine, something on a website, books, craft materials. I do try to really leave school and the class behind until August, but the collecting never stops. Preparing the classroom is never done at the same time, as it depends on what I am doing over the summer, but I have covered all that in the last post.

Inwardly, preparation begins slowly and I consciously try not to rush it, to let it bubble up in me as necessary. This preparation is not as active as planning the main lesson block and content, but it is a preparation of what has passed. I return to that tableau that has been forming slowly and quietly in me. I need to allow myself time to go through the last year and let it settle in me, to inform me. It is not a process of analysing or nit-picking or list-making. It is seeing the year as a whole.

The distance created during June and July gives me a clearer perspective on the things that need addressing. The noise of the year fades and I start seeing the essential things, the things that have remained ingrained in me.

These obviously vary from year to year, but they include things like a conversation with a child that has stuck with me. A lesson that came alive far more wonderfully than I had planned. A difficulty with the class, a child, a colleague or a meeting that has left an imprint on me. A situation that I see differently now and wish I had handled differently, knowing in retrospect what I could have done better. Moments when I was not only proud of what I had achieved, but of the class as a whole or something a child had done that filled me with pride.

These things are often things that I had not clearly identified at the time, things that while I was in the thick of it did not stand out as clearly as they should have.

These recollections are laying the groundwork for how and what I prepare for the new year.

For paid subscribers, I continue by looking at what becomes clearer once we have some distance from the year — our successes, our failures and the essential things we need to carry forward.

A New Episode of Wonderfully Human

Waldorf Ways — Thu, 06 Aug 2026 13:18:37 GMT

Sarah and I continue to explore how parents and teachers can support children’s moral capacities. They discuss how stories, imagination, festivals, and meaningful experiences contribute to a child’s moral development, and they reflect on how children learn through living pictures rather than lectures, how adolescence calls for empowerment, and the steady presence of the parent and teachers as worthy of imitation.

Here is the link

How Can I Support My Child in Becoming a Good Person (Part 2)

In Part 2, Sarah Barrett and Donovan Gay continue to explore how parents and teachers can support children’s moral capacities. They discuss how stories, imagination, festivals, and meaningful experiences contribute to a child’s moral development, and they reflect on how children learn through living pictures rather than lectures, how adolescence calls f…

a month ago · Wonderfully Human Podcast

This Week's Steiner Quote

Waldorf Ways — Wed, 05 Aug 2026 15:40:59 GMT

In this week’s post I wrote about the difference between a beautiful classroom and one that is simply decorated. Steiner’s words help to show why this matters. The classroom itself is part of the children’s education. The beauty, order and care we bring into the room work upon them, even if they never put it into words.

A Beautiful Classroom Is Not a Decorated Classroom

Waldorf Ways — Sun, 02 Aug 2026 07:48:29 GMT

I march out into the summer sun, arms laden with metres of wet, freshly dyed muslin. I take the time to hang each piece so it can dry in the warm breeze. I watch the fabric drying and make sure the colour is what I wanted for the year: a warm radiant orange or a soft welcoming pink. Each year has a colour and I try to build this into all I do in preparing the classroom.

And then there are the noisier, messier tasks, like being outside in the sun with a sander, dust everywhere and the sun burning my neck as I start on yet another desk. Once they are all sanded, I dust them off and carry them back into the classroom, ready for a coat of varnish to protect them for another year.

Like so many of my summers over the years, I have spent many hours, days and weeks preparing for September. Some of these jobs are wonderful and enjoyable, some more practical, but all need doing and all have their place in my preparation for the coming year. These practical tasks need doing just as much as the lesson preparation. August is a very busy month.

Getting the classroom, the actual physical space, ready is as important as preparing the lessons. The classroom will hold the class for the year and needs to be ready to receive them, to hold them, to nurture them quietly and to be a safe and calming space.

This summertime task of preparing the classroom has been there for me right from the start. I took my time preparing my very first classroom so many years ago, learning how to do things like change the colour of the paper ball light fittings by bleaching them in the sun and then gently dabbing on watercolour with a sea sponge, building up subtle layers of colour.

These things have always been important to me because I have always known that it is not just the lessons I teach that matter, but also the classroom the children inhabit for the year. It must have an atmosphere that is suitable for learning. Children notice everything, although they do not always acknowledge it in words. They know when a teacher cares for the room, when things have been thought through and placed carefully. There is a different quality in a space when the teacher is orderly, not necessarily fastidious, compared with a classroom that feels neglected and uncared for. Over the years, I have noticed the difference when I enter a classroom that is cared for and one that is not, and there is definitely a subtle effect on the children and their learning. The classroom is as much a part of the children’s education as the lessons they receive.

Creating beauty in the classroom is a skill I have learned over many years and I have seen that there is a huge difference between a beautiful classroom and a decorated classroom. A classroom may contain all the “standard” Waldorf things, like wooden desks, a nature table and Waldorf prints, and yet still have an emptiness about it. With the plethora of monetised Waldorf things now available, I have seen classrooms filled with stuff that still lack the warmth and presence I strive for each year. I have realised that outward appearance alone does not create the beauty I am looking for. There is a vast difference between a classroom that copies the familiar Waldorf aesthetic and one where the teacher has invested time and effort into preparing the room the children will enter in September.

For me, the purpose is not simply to make the classroom look Waldorf. It is a deeper objective, one I carry inwardly as I consider everything I do: does the classroom support the life of the class and what I plan to do this year? It is not about filling the room with things because they are Waldorf or beautiful, or overworking everything to achieve some perfect idea. It is about doing what you know the class needs to be surrounded by, both practically and aesthetically.

So how do we create beauty in the classroom? What is it that actually creates the environment we need?

Well, I’d say first and most importantly that it is not about perfection. It is about trying to get it right and accepting that a little rough is okay. It is also not about expense. I have never really had a budget for preparing my classroom each year, so much of what I have done has come from my own pocket. Being thrifty and clever about how I achieve things has therefore been a great advantage. How do I get as close as I can to what I want within the constraints? This has also been a blessing in disguise, as I think that if I had had a large budget, I might easily have ended up with overkill.

There are many things that, although time-consuming, can make the greatest difference. I always begin with a fresh coat of paint. For me, this lifts the space and gives it a sense of something new, a fresh start. Colour on the walls has always been important to me and if I am not moving to a different classroom, I have to recolour the room. I have followed the colour suggestions at the back of the Stockmeyer Curriculum book. They are suggestions rather than rules, but I have a strong connection to them and they have always been my starting point.

A new colour has always meant painting the walls white first and then applying the colour. I have had no training in lazure painting and have simply muddled through over the years, gradually becoming better at adding colour to the walls. Some colours, such as red, are much easier to apply evenly, while blue requires patience and dedication. From there, I look at the window coverings, taking the muslin curtains down, bleaching them and redyeing them at home in the washing machine.

Then there are all the practical things: the classroom layout and the arrangement of supplies such as main lesson books, paints and paper. It is important to think all these small things through carefully. Does the blackboard need sanding and repainting? Where will the nature table be this year and how large or small should it be for the age of the children? Is there a class sign on the door? Does it need redoing or is there already one that can be used? What images are appropriate for the walls, depending on the class and the age of the children? Do I want to add something whimsical for the year?

One year, I dragged in a large dried branch, wired it to the ceiling and hung it over the centre of the classroom. I then spent many hours cutting leaves from coffee filters, painting each one and glueing on a piece of wire so they could be attached to the branch. There were autumn leaves, spring leaves and blossom and summer leaves. It was a great deal of work, but I did it happily and willingly.

I don’t attempt large things like this very often, but every now and then an idea comes into my mind and I follow it.

The classroom should be a usable, practical space that enables learning and adapts to your needs for the year. Remember that, first and foremost, it is a classroom, a place for learning. It is not a display to impress children, parents or colleagues. It is your space and it needs to work for you and your class for educational purposes.

Then the artistic element comes in. I can’t say this strongly enough: no teacher needs to be an artist. When we do our blackboard drawings, it is not a competition or a comparison. It is you doing your work and striving to achieve your best, and that is more important for the children to see than a perfect drawing on the board. So do your board to the best of your ability and in a way that suits you, rather than trying to copy something you saw on the internet.

Your artistic presence is throughout the room: in the wall painting, the layout of the classroom, the choice of images and the arrangement of the seasonal table. Each of these reflects something of you and that has importance in the classroom. The children see it and although they may not say anything, it works upon them.

Never underestimate the importance of your class seeing you strive or even fail a little. Take the blackboard, for example. I have done some great drawings that I am very proud of and others that have been a total flop, and that is okay. I have done drawings and the children have let me know that they were not my best. But they see me strive, sometimes rub something out and try again, learning from my mistakes. Sometimes I am not happy with a drawing, but they are. So have the courage to draw in front of them. Chalkboard drawings do not have to be perfect things completed away from the children. Our artistic endeavours carry something of our relationship with the children, the subject we are teaching and ourselves, so be open and free in the classroom.

I have heard of teachers spending days perfecting a drawing on the board outside class, teachers who get others to do their drawings and some who simply buy posters or images to hang up for the class. For me, all of these approaches fail to recognise something essential about the purpose of chalkboard drawing.

Preparing a beautiful classroom is not merely an exercise in making it pretty. It goes much deeper. It is about putting yourself into the classroom. Every brushstroke, every placement of furniture, every curtain and every candle represents your active involvement in preparing the space. Most importantly, it is not for you. It is for the children.

For me, it shows as much respect for the children as preparing a good lesson. It is not about how many hours you have put into the work or having your contribution acknowledged. It is about really connecting with the space on behalf of the children so that they are surrounded by what they need and, hopefully, by something beautiful.

The children may never know how much time or effort you put into creating their environment, how many layers of watercolour are on the walls or how many times you had to redye the curtains to get the shade right. But what they do know when they walk into that classroom is that it is for them, filled with care, compassion and love. They walk in and live into the atmosphere you have created for them. And without saying it, they appreciate it.

When it is all done, on the night before they return, the walls are coloured, the curtains hung, the floors clean, the desks placed with name tags and fresh flowers on the seasonal table and my desk. It is peaceful and ready. It is a new room, full of potential. It is not even empty because the children have been the driving force behind all of this, so they are already there in spirit. The classroom is ready, the children are ready and I am ready.

Beauty in a classroom is not an added extra; it is part of the fabric of the classroom. It is one of the many ways in which we tell the children that both they and the year they are about to share with us are worthy of care.

Start Here

Waldorf Ways — Sat, 01 Aug 2026 17:15:00 GMT

Hello and welcome to Waldorf Ways, I created this page for those who may need a reading list to get them started.Hello and welcome to Waldorf Ways. I created this page for those who may need a reading list to get them started.

I have been writing about Waldorf education in various forms for several years now and this Substack has become my platform for sharing that writing. My written work is based on my years of experience and dedication to Waldorf education in our constantly changing world. I cover all aspects from inner work to practical classroom questions and the philosophy that stands behind all we do as Waldorf teachers.

There are now more than 200 posts in my archive, which is a lot to ask anyone to work their way through, so I have chosen ten here that I think give a good sense of Waldorf Ways and the different things I tend to write about.

Understanding Waldorf Education

Education Versus Information

The Curriculum and the Developing Human Being

The Inner Work of the Teacher

Teaching Is Not a Performance

What Are We Really Preparing For?

Children and Child Development

The Death of the Inner Picture

The Rush to Independent Thinking

Classroom Practice

Why Recall Matters More Than Coverage

A Beautiful Classroom Is Not a Decorated Classroom

Anthroposophy and the Foundations of Waldorf

It Looks Like Waldorf, But Something Is Missing

Children Need Authority

There are a lot more posts in the archive, of course, but I hope these ten posts are a good place for you to start.

I hope some of these catch your interest.

Donovan

A New Episode of Wonderfully Human

Waldorf Ways — Sat, 01 Aug 2026 13:02:21 GMT

In this episode of Wonderfully Human, Sarah and I explore whether goodness is something we can simply teach or whether it needs the right conditions in which to grow from within the child.

We talk about the importance of quiet, rhythm and artistic experience in childhood, as well as the hidden cost of hurry and over scheduling.

Here is the link

How Can I Support My Child in Becoming a Good Person?

In this episode, Donovan Gay and Sarah Barrett explore how children develop character through stories, meaningful experiences, and an education that nurtures the whole human being. Together, they discuss the original vision of Waldorf education, the transformative power of storytelling, and how parents and teachers can help children grow into compassion…

a month ago · 1 like · Wonderfully Human Podcast

This Week's Steiner Quote

Waldorf Ways — Fri, 31 Jul 2026 07:21:23 GMT

This week’s article grew out of a question that has followed me for years: when are we working from a real educational principle and when are we simply repeating what has become familiar? Steiner’s words here are a useful reminder that teachers were never meant simply to copy what others had already done.

A New Podcast: Wonderfully Human

Waldorf Ways — Wed, 29 Jul 2026 14:59:08 GMT

I wanted to share something new that has quietly been taking shape over the past few weeks.

Sarah and I have started a podcast together called Wonderfully Human. It grew out of the many conversations we have about childhood, parenting and becoming, and what it means to accompany a child as they grow.

Those conversations often begin with a simple question and then lead us somewhere deeper. The podcast gives us space to explore them properly, without trying to arrive too quickly at a neat answer.

The first three episodes are now available. We begin by introducing ourselves and sharing something of the paths that brought us to this work, before moving into questions about education, childhood and what children really need from the adults around them.

Many of the questions Sarah and I explore are ones I have also written about here over the years, but conversation allows them to unfold in a different way. I hope you will enjoy listening.

You can listen here:

https://substack.com/@wonderfullyhumanpodcast

Are Waldorf Traditions Still Valid?

Waldorf Ways — Sun, 26 Jul 2026 16:10:21 GMT

“That’s how we do it here!”

That comment really ruffled my feathers as a new teacher, but it is one I have had to endure for many years. Being young, filled with new ideas and wanting to change things, I felt cast aside and that no further discussion was possible. At almost every school I began working in, someone said that line to me before long and I was effectively silenced.

The other version, which I find equally dismissive and have heard from my teacher-training days right up to this past week, is:

“That’s a Waldorf tradition!”

One has so often been used to prevent change, while the other is now used just as readily to sweep a practice aside.

Over the years I have evolved and developed as a Waldorf teacher, and those two responses have continued to trouble me and bring questions to mind that I feel need looking at more carefully. This feels particularly important as, in recent years, some individuals and schools have seemed increasingly ready to remove traditions before fully understanding what they carry. Through my years of working within the framework of Waldorf education and returning again and again to Steiner as my source, I have found myself moving into a different position.

Before I remove, alter or defend a Waldorf practice or tradition, I ask myself honestly: Do I understand where it came from? What was its purpose? Does it still live meaningfully within the school community?

This matters because a school tradition does not belong to one individual. Its meaning is carried by the community and any decision to alter or remove it should grow from shared understanding rather than from the preference of the person currently responsible for it.

Tradition and Principle Are Not the Same Thing

Some Waldorf practices and traditions came directly from Steiner, who introduced them to the first teachers in the first school and gave clear indications of the educational purpose they were intended to serve. Others have developed over time within schools, where teachers and communities have created practices that may still carry real purpose.

The real difficulty, I have found, comes when these different origins become confused over time, so that a custom developed later in one school spreads to others and gradually comes to be treated as a Steiner principle, or when an original practice from Steiner is changed without sufficient understanding, sometimes dramatically and sometimes little by little over many years. The third situation is where the outward form of a practice or tradition is preserved, but its meaning and the understanding behind it are gradually lost.

My task in this article is neither to defend every tradition or practice nor to advocate change for its own sake. It is about asking the right questions and undertaking the necessary research so that we can adapt and change consciously, with understanding and from a position of strength.

When Later Customs Become Waldorf Rules

I would like to explore two customs that developed later and have now become Waldorf traditions.

The first is one I have grappled with myself over the years and explored from both sides: the now-standard idea that every single letter of the alphabet must have its own image. Yet this was not what Steiner indicated or taught. Steiner was very clear in his lectures and discussions with teachers that images for the letters were to be created artistically by the teacher on the chalkboard. Most importantly, teachers were not expected to create an image for every letter because there would not be enough time and the method was not intended to be applied mechanically to every single letter.

“In sentences the children will notice shapes, for example, the f they are familiar with in fish. They will notice other shapes as well that cannot be addressed individually, because there will not be enough time.”
— Rudolf Steiner, Practical Advice to Teachers, GA 294, 21 August 1919

Instead, he spoke about developing several letters through imaginative images on the board with the children and then later introducing the remaining letters by writing whole words and sentences on the board and exploring the sounds of the new letters within them. At times, this could be as simple as saying that a particular shape carries a particular sound. Put simply, he did not indicate that every letter needed its own image. He spoke about analysing whole words, introducing remaining letters analytically and accepting the practical compromises required by time.

I have worked in both ways, following Steiner’s method and also creating an image for every letter, and I can say from my own experience that it is not necessary to create an image for each one once the children understand that a written shape carries meaning and sound.

The idea that every letter and its image should then be displayed on the classroom wall throughout the year is also a later adaptation that does not come from the source. More importantly, Steiner explicitly told teachers to find their own images rather than rely on what others had already created.

“One must find such things, these pictures for example, for oneself. Don’t rely on what other people have already done. Put your own free, but controlled, imagination to work, and have faith in what you find for yourselves.”
— Rudolf Steiner, Discussions with Teachers, GA 295, 22 August 1919

This is very different from buying a ready-made pack of alphabet cards from the internet.

The second example of a later practice that has become a tradition is the use of beeswax for modelling in the lower classes. A modelling wax was introduced by Hans Stockmar in 1939 and then developed further during the 1940s in collaboration with teachers, educators and parents into the kind of product with which we are familiar today.

Steiner was not as focused on the particular material in which the children modelled as we often are today. He was keenly interested in children developing a sense of form through artistic activity and movement, helping to develop not only the will but also an inner experience of form. Steiner mentions modelling in wax particularly for older children when working with the forms of human organs. For younger children, he suggested clay and plasticine and even mud from the road if nothing else was available.

“We continue this by moving on to three-dimensional forms, using plasticine if it’s available, and whatever else you can get if it isn’t—even if it’s mud from the street, it doesn’t matter! The point is to develop the ability to see and sense forms.”
— Rudolf Steiner, Discussions with Teachers, GA 295, 6 September 1919

Years ago, I moved from beeswax to plasticine because beeswax in a cold climate is not at all practical. The cold makes it as hard as stone, whereas plasticine softens more quickly and allows the children to shape it with greater ease and confidence. I had to make a presentation to the College to justify changing from beeswax to plasticine because it was seen as though I were breaking a golden rule.

These two examples show clearly how later practices can become ingrained as Waldorf traditions and then be held onto with great enthusiasm, even when they did not originate as principles given by Steiner.

This Week's Steiner Quote

Waldorf Ways — Fri, 24 Jul 2026 06:20:04 GMT

This sentence sits at the heart of this week's post. We prepare deeply during the summer, not so that every lesson is fixed in advance, but so that we are ready to create the art of teaching when the children stand before us.

What Are We Really Preparing For?

Waldorf Ways — Sun, 19 Jul 2026 11:40:00 GMT

Six weeks off. That is how the summer holidays are often imagined for teachers, but the reality is that the next school year begins long before we walk back into the classroom. Preparation follows us through the summer, into the books piling up beside the bed, the thoughts that arrive while we are driving and the ideas for blocks that begin taking shape when we are supposed to be doing something else.

For a Waldorf teacher, though, even all of this is only part of the preparation.

Books are being collected and placed on desks and bedside tables, blocks are taking shape in our thoughts, stories are being gathered and materials explored and ordered. There is never really a moment when thoughts of the coming year are not present.

If you are fastidious like me and have strong ideas about how your classroom needs to be for the new year, a good deal of time is also spent at school. For me, this has often meant two weeks or more of painting and sanding, cleaning, dyeing and organising during the summer.

It’s an exciting time, filled with possibilities that are swirling around and slowly beginning to take shape as the year ahead starts to form in my mind. But what are we actually preparing, and who are we preparing it for? This question has grown in me over the years as a strong guide.

Preparation is a mix of things you can see and things you cannot, and both are essential for a Waldorf teacher. Our summer preparation often involves a huge amount of work that is not always visible to those around us.

First and foremost is the curriculum. We need to know it inside and out and let it live in us. It is not the book you bought off the internet with all the Class 6 blocks broken down and planned for you. That is not Waldorf education.

It means rereading what Steiner spoke about for the age group you are teaching in the coming year, exploring different ideas about what might be covered and keeping your mind open. I use The Tasks and Content of the Steiner-Waldorf Curriculum because it is not prescriptive and allows you to move around within the themes for the year. It forces you to actively engage with the curriculum, to think and make choices about what you believe will best suit your class and the children you teach, while remaining firmly grounded in the developmental picture and the principles behind the curriculum.

Each block needs to have an overview plan. The details can come a little later, but you need to know where you are going. A good deal of time also needs to be spent thinking about the skills you are teaching through each block. Some are more obvious when teaching maths, while others can be harder to pinpoint in something like history. The skills you are developing are not the same as the content you are covering.

These blocks need stories and content that are appropriate for the age, so there is a constant process of reading and sourcing material. Above all else, we need to educate ourselves in the material we plan to teach, not simply learning the content we intend to bring to the children, but understanding the much bigger picture so that we really know the subject ourselves.

This is already a very large amount of work.

The danger is that once we have produced all the things we can see, the block plans, the lesson plans, the skills profiles, the organised and prepared classroom and all the collected material, we can begin to think the preparation is complete. These things are vital, but they are still only the visible part of our preparation.

Then come the unseen elements, the deeper work of the teacher that gives life to everything we have prepared. Without it, we may have all the outward forms in place, but something essential is missing.

I need to have a good understanding of the developmental picture of the children I will teach in the new year. I need to understand the nuances of their development, how these may manifest in the class as a whole and in the individual children and how the curriculum is there to support this development.

All of this must live in me as I prepare for the year ahead, but I must also remember that I am not teaching an abstract idea of, say, Class 6. I am teaching a real group of children whom I know well and whose needs I also have to meet.

The developmental picture and the curriculum that supports it are vital, but they must become a reality in terms of the children I actually teach, and this will shape many things in my preparation. When you buy a curriculum off the shelf, it was created by another teacher for another group of children. You are not that teacher and your class is not that group of children. You have to shape your preparation around the class that is actually yours.

The developing human being becomes our guiding light and the curriculum is there to support that development, but we have to make it all come alive for the specific group of children we teach. For me, this means that our preparation is guided by three pillars:

The development of the child.

The curriculum that supports that development.

The actual group of children in our class.

None can stand alone.

“In the practice of teaching there will awaken in us, out of this knowledge of human nature, the art of education in a quite individual form. In reality the teacher must invent this art every moment.”
— Rudolf Steiner, Balance in Teaching, GA 302a, 21 September 1920.

Then we have to prepare for the one thing we cannot know: change. When we left our classes in June, we knew the children well and they lived strongly in every lesson we prepared. But now we are removed from them, and we have to remain mindful that the children who return in September may have changed from the children we said goodbye to in June.

We prepare with the children we know in mind, but we also have to be courageous enough not to fix our preparation too firmly around who they were. The children who walk into our classrooms in September may be different from those we remember. Our preparation has to remain open enough to accept that change. If we fix everything down before they return, we can quickly run into trouble when the year begins.

“The teacher must be able to cast a comprehensive eye upon the class at the beginning of the school year... At the end of the school year or of another period, the teacher must again review and notice the changes that have occurred.”
— Rudolf Steiner, The Foundations of Human Experience, GA 293, 2 September 1919.

This is a huge undertaking. This preparation is also part of the deeper work of the teacher, the work that lies at the heart of being a Waldorf teacher. We study child development, return to Steiner and revisit the lectures and chapters that are relevant to the year ahead.

With these larger thoughts held firmly in our consciousness, we then bring the actual class into our preparation. What were their strengths last year? Where were the difficulties? What were my strengths as their teacher and what were my weaknesses? Holding the previous year consciously while looking ahead to the new one is a vital part of this preparation.

Working from lived observations, while trying to look ahead without allowing our personal biases to get in the way, gives us the insight we need to build a framework for the year ahead. Not a rigid plan, but an open framework that allows the children to grow into the new curriculum freely and naturally.

This is part of our anthroposophical path as Waldorf teachers.

Then, when we arrive on the first day, we do so with a clear sense of purpose, but also with keen observation and an openness to whatever the children bring. They will surprise us and we will surprise ourselves. This is when we discover where our planning really stands. Something does not work, so we adjust it. Something does work, so we pay attention to what we have touched upon. Keep your thinking and observations open to change and the lessons will follow suit.

So no, teachers do not simply have an easy six weeks off. It is a busy time, although much of the work is not always visible to those around us. I know for myself that preparation is never far from my thoughts throughout the summer.

After nearly thirty years of teaching, I still prepare carefully and begin anew. I never lift an old lesson and simply repeat it, and I would never buy a lesson and simply use it. I am always reinventing, renewing and revitalising my own understanding and finding the path for the children I meet anew each September, while keeping consciously in mind that the children I remember may not be the same children who return for the new year.

Perhaps I am not preparing the year the children will have, but rather preparing myself well enough to recognise where I need to go when the year begins.

The photograph is of one of my own classrooms, during the summer preparations for a new school year.

This Week's Steiner Quote

Waldorf Ways — Thu, 16 Jul 2026 13:49:20 GMT

This week’s post was about the education of the teacher. Not simply what we know or what we do in the classroom, but who we are becoming as human beings and how this lives in our teaching.