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Elisabeth Moore-Haas

59 I once asked some American students of my course on early childhood education, what earliest memories they had of childhood. One student reported having seen a dog that he was not supposed to see, lying dead under an outside staircase. Later the dog was gone. The child crept under the staircase, then lay down and imitated the dog in death. He felt, “Oh, this is good.” He was about three years old. It felt natural to him to experience the gesture of the dog.

I will give you an example of a child not being able to join others in imitation. At one time in Switzerland there were many Italian construction workers, and some children in my kindergarten would imitate them in play. A new child entered the kindergarten, and after a time came to me in tears: “I can't play with the other children! I don't understand what they are saying. They speak Italian!” On another occasion a boy brought an apple for his snack, but did not eat it. Instead he was spinning it slowly around staring at it. At last I asked him, “Will you eat your apple now?” He looked anxiously at me and said, “I can't. It has vitamins inside it.” The child in the first example lived in the religion of the young child, but not the other two. It was the first who lived deeply into imitation, into the being of another.

Speaking about the incarnating ego of the child, Rudolf Steiner described the process in this way:

Out of the spiritual worlds—on spiritual wings, as it were—there comes the human ego. Observing first the child in the early years of life—how the child develops, how step by step the physiognomy emerges from inner depths to the surface of the body, how the child acquires more and more control over the physical organism—we see in this process, essentially, the incorporation of the ego. . .The organizing principle in the physical body emerges with the change of teeth, becomes emancipated at this time, and in the main constitutes the intelligence. (Balance in Teaching, Sept. 22, 1920)

We hear a lot about the “dreamy” child. What does this mean? It is not that the child is daydreaming; rather it is a state of consciousness like that of adults when they are dreaming during sleep. The child's astral forces and ego are expanded. The ego is “observing the child.” It is not yet incarnated or incorporated into the body. When very young children draw, they are sometimes amazed to see lines on the paper. They do not connect their movement with what is appearing on the paper. Only gradually do children connect actions with outcomes.

The Religion of the Young Child

60 A very small baby looks at us, but looks

above us. It does not make eye contact with us at first. The infant gives itself up to the atmosphere around it. We experience this, for example, in the lovely special aroma of a young baby. If we don't rush the baby down to earth, then it can live in this atmosphere and gradually enter the more earthly realm.

Then comes a stage around age three when the child says, “No, I don't want to.” She has discovered something new, the possibility for “antipathy.” In general, the child until age seven lives in the forces of sympathy and is at one with the world. But at times antipathy enters, though in a non-moral way. It is a way of standing back and looking at the world around one, similar to what happens later in life in reflective thinking.

True motivation arises out of sympathy. For a grown-up person, it may be a duty we have chosen or an inner commitment. The moment you expect the child to do something for you, however, he may rebel and misbehave. From this we can learn how to meet the child's true needs. There should be no expectations in regard to young children. An example of this would be a teacher who prepared a festival and did everything very well, but the children acted up and did not behave the way she wanted them to, because they felt pressed by her expectations. What is needed is a non- intentional approach towards the child.

This is also true for working with our colleagues, for example, regarding how they paint with their children or whether or not they use plant dyes. It is best not to have such expectations. Let them be. Then one can work freely with the other. We need to be in a state of sympathy with the children or with our colleagues. Then we can create something in the social realm. There is never only “one way.” There are as many ways as there are kindergarten teachers! We cannot copy one another. We can digest what we see

and hear and then come to our own way, which may turn out quite similar, but we have worked it through ourselves. Rudolf Steiner visited a school with parallel classes where the two teachers did things very differently. That's how it should be, he said. Each one must do it differently.

To decide what is right, you have to look at your particular situation. With young children you cannot try many different ways to do some- thing. Out of intuition you must choose one that you think will fit this situation. For example, there was a kindergarten in Switzer- land where all the children arrived by school bus at the same time. On the bus were older children, and when the kindergarten children entered their kindergarten room they were unable to play or imitate at first. They were too agitated. The teacher therefore decided to begin each day with a little table play. The children would enter a darkened room, a candle was lit, and the little play was performed. It worked for this class. It takes a true intuition to find the right solution to such a problem. Not just anything will do.

For the child, being able to play requires being in a state of sympathy. As adults we stand back from a beautiful sight and admire it. But the child has to enter right in and touch the thing. A third grader went to the mountains with her parents. They raved about the far-off snowy peaks, but she was only interested in seeing the flowers, the bees, and the stones— the things nearby, which she could embrace. She didn't even see the mountains. In adults, however, if this force of sympathy becomes too great it can be a problem.

Being in sympathy means being able to take in everything that is moving and that has a gesture. This is the realm where imitation lives. It matters what living images are rendered to the children. When we do a harvest circle with the children, for example, we often try to show the child what the farmer actually does. Is this

60 A very small baby looks at us, but looks

above us. It does not make eye contact with us at first. The infant gives itself up to the atmosphere around it. We experience this, for example, in the lovely special aroma of a young baby. If we don't rush the baby down to earth, then it can live in this atmosphere and gradually enter the more earthly realm.

Then comes a stage around age three when the child says, “No, I don't want to.” She has discovered something new, the possibility for “antipathy.” In general, the child until age seven lives in the forces of sympathy and is at one with the world. But at times antipathy enters, though in a non-moral way. It is a way of standing back and looking at the world around one, similar to what happens later in life in reflective thinking.

True motivation arises out of sympathy. For a grown-up person, it may be a duty we have chosen or an inner commitment. The moment you expect the child to do something for you, however, he may rebel and misbehave. From this we can learn how to meet the child's true needs. There should be no expectations in regard to young children. An example of this would be a teacher who prepared a festival and did everything very well, but the children acted up and did not behave the way she wanted them to, because they felt pressed by her expectations. What is needed is a non- intentional approach towards the child.

This is also true for working with our colleagues, for example, regarding how they paint with their children or whether or not they use plant dyes. It is best not to have such expectations. Let them be. Then one can work freely with the other. We need to be in a state of sympathy with the children or with our colleagues. Then we can create something in the social realm. There is never only “one way.” There are as many ways as there are kindergarten teachers! We cannot copy one another. We can digest what we see

and hear and then come to our own way, which may turn out quite similar, but we have worked it through ourselves. Rudolf Steiner visited a school with parallel classes where the two teachers did things very differently. That's how it should be, he said. Each one must do it differently.

To decide what is right, you have to look at your particular situation. With young children you cannot try many different ways to do some- thing. Out of intuition you must choose one that you think will fit this situation. For example, there was a kindergarten in Switzer- land where all the children arrived by school bus at the same time. On the bus were older children, and when the kindergarten children entered their kindergarten room they were unable to play or imitate at first. They were too agitated. The teacher therefore decided to begin each day with a little table play. The children would enter a darkened room, a candle was lit, and the little play was performed. It worked for this class. It takes a true intuition to find the right solution to such a problem. Not just anything will do.

For the child, being able to play requires being in a state of sympathy. As adults we stand back from a beautiful sight and admire it. But the child has to enter right in and touch the thing. A third grader went to the mountains with her parents. They raved about the far-off snowy peaks, but she was only interested in seeing the flowers, the bees, and the stones— the things nearby, which she could embrace. She didn't even see the mountains. In adults, however, if this force of sympathy becomes too great it can be a problem.

Being in sympathy means being able to take in everything that is moving and that has a gesture. This is the realm where imitation lives. It matters what living images are rendered to the children. When we do a harvest circle with the children, for example, we often try to show the child what the farmer actually does. Is this

61 really what the child needs? Is this not a

“hidden teaching,” especially if you go out and look at the farmers doing it and try to duplicate their gestures. This is a materialistic approach. We should look instead to the inner gesture of the activity. What really lives in the process? For example, in milling there is the archetypal gesture of two surfaces grinding against each other, which we can show by the palms mov- ing round and round each other in a mill-like gesture without touching. This is similar to the eurythmy gesture for “M,” which is the inner essence of the gesture. In this way we do not make the gestures too physical, such as would occur if we would show a turning handle of a hand mill. Children live in the inner gesture. We do not want to force their egos. We would like to create the right conditions for them to incorporate themselves.

The word “religion” comes from the Latin, “religio,” which means to re-connect. Rudolf Steiner says the religious mood of the young child is experienced in a bodily, physical way, unlike the religious experience of an adult. All that lives in the child's environment influences the child's circulation, breathing, et cetera. The child is at one with the world, giving itself over to its environment, and that is the “religion of the child.” Therefore, we need to prepare the environment so that children are able to give themselves up to it. All that we think or feel or do affects them. If all of this is done in a healthy way, then the young child does not need “religion” per se. The child is already there in religion.

But, of course, as the child becomes more distant from the environment, and rhythm becomes necessary to enable the child to “live into” the environment. Where there is life, there is rhythm. Rhythm serves as a bridge between the heavenly and the physical. For the child, rhythm in life can lead toward a healthy dream consciousness, which expresses itself often in liveliness (not

hyperactivity), in creative play rather than in a dull brooding.

What about music in the mood of the fifth? It is different from what is called pentatonic music. Some people mistakenly think it is a “spaced out” music. Rudolf Steiner describes it very clearly. It is a type of music that helps a child to incarnate gently. With such music (as well as inner gestures, a healthy environment, and a sound rhythm), we create an oasis for children where they feel at home, and which will help them “love to incarnate.” Such an experience serves as a healthy, homeopathic dose to balance some of the awakening influences of our time. If doing curative eurythmy for only three minutes a day can bring about healing in an adult, imagine the strengthening and healing that can occur in a healthy kindergarten day of four hours.

Rudolf Steiner also said that children should enjoy life and take pleasure in it. This is not the time to be ascetic. How can a young child who possesses nothing, not even love, become a giving person in adulthood? A natural egotism is appropriate in childhood.

When we intellectualize and give

explanations, we cut off the child's “religion.” The child is awakened prematurely and is perhaps afraid, such as the little boy with the apple who could not eat it because he was thinking of the vitamins it contained. The situation was similar for the little boy who could not play with his classmates for he thought they were speaking Italian. The child could not “dive in.”

As teachers we must be careful not to use the children as a substitute for something we are missing; we should not want their love. We should be happiest when the children are completely absorbed in their play. Then they are deeply content. In imitation, the child takes in the quality of everything we do. She absorbs our ambitions, our intentions, and our quiet enthusiasm. Rudolf Steiner says we should be

61 really what the child needs? Is this not a

“hidden teaching,” especially if you go out and look at the farmers doing it and try to duplicate their gestures. This is a materialistic approach. We should look instead to the inner gesture of the activity. What really lives in the process? For example, in milling there is the archetypal gesture of two surfaces grinding against each other, which we can show by the palms mov- ing round and round each other in a mill-like gesture without touching. This is similar to the eurythmy gesture for “M,” which is the inner essence of the gesture. In this way we do not make the gestures too physical, such as would occur if we would show a turning handle of a hand mill. Children live in the inner gesture. We do not want to force their egos. We would like to create the right conditions for them to incorporate themselves.

The word “religion” comes from the Latin, “religio,” which means to re-connect. Rudolf Steiner says the religious mood of the young child is experienced in a bodily, physical way, unlike the religious experience of an adult. All that lives in the child's environment influences the child's circulation, breathing, et cetera. The child is at one with the world, giving itself over to its environment, and that is the “religion of the child.” Therefore, we need to prepare the environment so that children are able to give themselves up to it. All that we think or feel or do affects them. If all of this is done in a healthy way, then the young child does not need “religion” per se. The child is already there in religion.

But, of course, as the child becomes more distant from the environment, and rhythm becomes necessary to enable the child to “live into” the environment. Where there is life, there is rhythm. Rhythm serves as a bridge between the heavenly and the physical. For the child, rhythm in life can lead toward a healthy dream consciousness, which expresses itself often in liveliness (not

hyperactivity), in creative play rather than in a dull brooding.

What about music in the mood of the fifth? It is different from what is called pentatonic music. Some people mistakenly think it is a “spaced out” music. Rudolf Steiner describes it very clearly. It is a type of music that helps a child to incarnate gently. With such music (as well as inner gestures, a healthy environment, and a sound rhythm), we create an oasis for children where they feel at home, and which will help them “love to incarnate.” Such an experience serves as a healthy, homeopathic dose to balance some of the awakening influences of our time. If doing curative eurythmy for only three minutes a day can bring about healing in an adult, imagine the strengthening and healing that can occur in a healthy kindergarten day of four hours.

Rudolf Steiner also said that children should enjoy life and take pleasure in it. This is not the time to be ascetic. How can a young child who possesses nothing, not even love, become a giving person in adulthood? A natural egotism is appropriate in childhood.

When we intellectualize and give

explanations, we cut off the child's “religion.”