Bullying, Courage, and the Power of Change

Being ignored was better than being tormented every day.

«All Waldorf schools urgently need to confront their history of violence and bullying.«

It is a sunny afternoon somewhere in Germany. Father Martin accompanies his son to a children's birthday party. While the children play, he stays in the kitchen drinking coffee with another father—a former classmate with whom he had little to do during his school days. They start talking about the old days, about their elementary school years. And suddenly, a window opens inside both of them. The other man talks about deep emotional wounds that he still carries with him today. About humiliations that still hurt. His child goes to a Waldorf kindergarten – which was a big step for him to take – but school? Never! The wounds run too deep. For Martin, this encounter is an eye-opener. He himself has three children, two of whom attend the same Waldorf school he once attended. And although he too was bullied, although he too experienced violence, he chose this school. «I was only able to do that because I sought help to process what I had experienced», says Martin, who has been involved in the school's parent council for years.

Fear in the classroom

In the early 1990s, Martin started attending a Waldorf school in Germany. His parents were interested in anthroposophy, and his siblings were already attending the school. Everything seemed fine. But from the very beginning, something went wrong. 36 children were enrolled in the first grade, and at times there were even 42. The class teacher was fresh out of teacher training college, with no experience, and himself a young father of several small children. An excess of boys created a special dynamic. The class was lively and loud. «There was a lot of fear in the class», Martin recalls. The teacher threw his keys at the children. Children were sent outside and had to press the door handle the whole time they were waiting so that those inside could see that they were still there. «There was a constant fear of punishment», says Martin. The drastic measures did not work, but they created a climate of fear and a poor social atmosphere in the classroom.

One situation from third grade has particularly stuck in Martin's mind. It involved reading aloud. «The class teacher made a big show of children who didn't read fluently or well», Martin recounts. «This created an atmosphere in which it was perfectly acceptable to humiliate someone in front of the group.» Martin developed a survival strategy. He calculated when it would be his turn to read aloud—the teacher always went from back to front, and each child read for about 30 seconds to a minute. Then he went to the bathroom early and paced back and forth in the hallway until it was over. A child protecting himself by fleeing.

Now, as we talk, Martin remembers other punishments his teacher used: «We often had to stand behind our chairs or in the corner as punishment. We also had to wash our mouths out with soap if we used bad language. He would ‹wake up› children who appeared to be daydreaming and not paying attention to the lesson by pouring water from a watering can over their heads, while the class was allowed to shout ‹Wake up!› loudly.»

A grateful sacrifice

Martin is a talkative, open-minded child. Naive, as he himself says. «Back then, I naively placed my innermost feelings in the hands of those around me.» He has trouble distinguishing between what should and shouldn't be shared with others, such as his first crushes on girls. This is precisely what makes him the perfect target. «I was a grateful victim for classmates who enjoyed teasing me», he says. The teacher, busy with discipline and keeping order, doesn't even notice the bullying. And there are no structures in place at school to call in outside help.

Just how normalized violence and humiliation are can also be seen during the first school trip in sixth grade. A boy with long hair, who is considered unkempt by the others, is held down in front of the whole group—teachers and classmates—and his teeth are brushed by force. Water is splashed in his face. Later, jokes are made about it. Consequences? None.

At some point, it becomes unbearable for Martin himself. It is very fashionable to pull out the insides of ink eraser tubes and use the casings as spit tubes. Because Martin is considered talkative and the teacher wants to keep an eye on him, he usually sits at the front of the class – a perfect target. Spit-covered paper balls land on the back of his neck. When he complains to the teacher, the teacher just shrugs his shoulders. «I went home on my own during the break», Martin says. «I couldn't take it anymore, the pressure of no one helping me.» This feeling of helplessness dominated Martin's entire time in class. It seemed impossible to get help from anywhere. «My parents believed me and listened to me, but still nothing happened.»

The failed attempt to escape

At some point, his parents try a different approach. They arrange trial days for Martin at a nearby public school, a school with a high proportion of immigrant students. Martin is supposed to stay there for a week. After two days, he drops out. «It was so strange and overwhelming for me that I said what I know is safer for me», he explains. The familiar, as painful as it was, felt safer than the unfamiliar. A paradoxical decision that shows how deeply insecure Martin already was.

After the failed school transfer, there are again intense discussions between the parents and the class teacher. After that, Martin is ignored by most of the class. «But that was a huge relief for me», he says. Being ignored was better than being tormented every day. What helps him is a small, close-knit group of friends who stick by him throughout. «I was never completely friendless.» Two of these friendships continue to this day. Things improve significantly in high school. An experienced teacher is able to steer the class dynamics in a positive direction. Extracurricular activities and communities provide Martin with stability—the Protestant church, confirmation classes.

The burden that remains

And then there is this encounter at a child's birthday party. The former classmate who «still carries deep emotional scars to this day», who never went to therapy, never worked through it. «He still hasn't overcome the trauma of his childhood»," says Martin thoughtfully. He himself was able to seek help. He went to therapy twice: as a young adult shortly after finishing school and later when he became a father himself. «I had a supportive family and later a partner who always saw this as important. I was always able to talk openly about seeking help.»

The change

So why does Martin send his own children to the very school where he himself experienced so much pain? As an educator who works in the mainstream school system and has insight into many different types of schools, he says: «In my view, Waldorf education, when not practiced by incompetent and isolated individuals, is still the approach that comes closest to meeting children's needs.» He has also noticed that his old school is different today. For example, there is now school social work for middle and high school students. Two full-time staff members for one school – even if Martin thinks that is still not enough. In the first two years of school, there is a team teaching model. No class teacher is alone in the often still large classes; there is always a second adult in the room. «That's very important», Martin emphasizes. Because what he experienced was also the result of isolation. A young, overwhelmed teacher, alone with 40 children, without supervision, without relief.

Today, all students at the end of lower school are taught about conflict resolution in a special course. School social workers are available during all breaks. There is an active student council in the middle and upper grades. Participatory projects in which students experience effectiveness. Martin recently found it particularly healing to work on the protection concept, to which the parents' council was invited and in which an external service provider also participated. During workshops, it was recognized that the position of power held by the class teacher in Waldorf schools is a double-edged sword. «What we find so great on the one hand can also be condemned in exactly the same way. And that's why it's essential to have supervisory bodies. I don't think they're perfect yet, but they're well integrated, so you can be sure that events like those in my childhood can't happen again», says Martin.

What remains

The school has not yet addressed the past with that overwhelmed teacher. «It's simply not talked about.» Martin feels it is important to mention this. And he has a clear demand: «It is urgently necessary for all Waldorf schools to take a much more proactive approach to coming to terms with history – including the local history of individual schools.» He would like to see the Association of Independent Waldorf Schools in Germany make this a binding requirement, similar to the violence protection concept that all Waldorf schools will be obliged to implement in 2022.

Martin has experienced pain and healing; he has seen how structures like those at his old school can be changed. Experiencing bullying can shape people for life. His story also shows how differently people deal with trauma. Unlike his classmates, he was able to get support. Martin has made his peace. He is involved in the parents' council and is fighting to further improve the structures at his former school. And he will soon be sending his youngest child to the school that caused him so much pain—because he can see that it has improved. 

«What I know is safer for me.» – This sentence from back then has a different meaning today. It is no longer fear of the unknown that keeps him at the Waldorf school, but hope for what is possible when people are willing to change.