Young writers, Pure Garments
We are not robots
What makes autistic people different and why a little understanding could help a lot. [more]
Young writers, Identity
Revolution on the Mediterranean
My voluntary service with Culture Minister Françoise Nyssen in Arles. [more]
Young writers
“I never fell in love with a chimpanzee”
Anna Luna Scheibe in conversation with the primatologist Jane Goodall. [more]
Young writers
The dark corner
I know they haven’t done me any harm. I know it’s not their fault. I know they’re not any different to us. I know that people who think like that are racists. And yet my heart always beats a little bit faster as I hurry past giving the “dark corner” a wide berth. [more]
Young writers
What connects us? Waldorf pupils from all over the world meet at the Goetheanum
From 12 to 16 April the international Waldorf students’ conference at the Goetheanum asked: “What connects us?” [more]
Young writers
Come to help
Mpho Sengane grew up in a South African children’s home and kept running away to beg on the streets. Today he works as a volunteer in a Waldorf day care centre in Karlsruhe. [more]
Young writers
Change your ways! An appeal to the Waldorf school
“This is necessary to prepare you for later life!” – how often have I heard this argument at the end of every discussion. How often have I allowed myself to be persuaded by this standard response from almost every teacher. [more]
Young writers
A school which gives and receives
The former pupils from our school are often asked what their school has given them. That appears to be a simple question. But at the same time this question is the most important one there is because the answer contains everything which is concealed behind the idea of being a pupil in a Waldorf school. [more]
Young writers
We are only the others abroad. A journey to Vietnam
Never before have so many young Germans travelled abroad – on the road with a rucksack or as volunteers for a wide range of aid organisations. Valentin Hacken met some of them in Vietnam. [more]
Young writers
My brief life with death
“I will probably never knot a tie with such a peculiar feeling again,” I reflect and pull the wide end of the tie through the loop. Done. He looks good the way he is lying there, in his best suit and the wreath of roses around the pale, folded hands. Diego died a few hours ago at the age of 62. Diego was not related to me, we weren’t friends either. Nevertheless, my contact with him recently was very close – I nursed him until he died. The reason for that is my four-week work placement in a hospice in Zurich. I can’t say exactly why I particularly wanted to spend these four weeks with terminally ill people. I think I was interested above all in gaining an insight into life situations which were alien to me. Whereas I am young and have a thousand... [more]
Bund der Freien Waldorfschulen e.V.