Otto Specht School: The Early Days

May wisdom shine through me

May love glow within me

May strength penetrate me

That in me might arise 

A helper for humanity,

A servant of sacred things,

Selfless and true.

~~Rudolf Steiner

It is amazing how when we are open to possibilities and are willing to trust the journey, opportunities end up being perfectly positioned for us to consider.  

I came to the Fellowship/Threefold community looking for a way to reimagine education for my young son who was not able to find his way in strictly classroom based programming. Having attended and graduated from a Waldorf school and being a parent of a child in a Waldorf School, it seemed that alternative forms of educational programming for students who could not manage a typical classroom, not only made sense, but were desperately needed - and not just for my child. 

I learned, soon after my arrival, that there had in fact been a community based educational program called the Otto Specht program at the Fellowship Community back in the early 1970’s for children of coworkers who could not manage at Green Meadow. The program had not been active for  several decades but the impulse was just waiting to be reawakened! 

To bring back this community based program, however, I first had to understand the community. So I began my journey as a Fellowship coworker. I worked in the barn with Will Bosch, caring for and milking the cows. When the dairy processing system was built, I learned how to process the milk for hilltop and the coop. I worked in Hilltop House, learning all the tasks necessary to care for the elderly members, including administering medicines. I cooked meals for the community with Jairo; set and cleaned the dining room for meals; Mopped the floor every Monday and Thursday; worked in the office with Jim reconciling the books; worked with the maintenance  team  cleaning, spackling and painting rooms; worked in the woodshop learning to carve picture frames and repair furniture; I cared for the chickens, worked in the fields, played music for the members every Thursday evening, and so on. 

During this initial year, as I learned the ropes, my daughter attended Green Meadow, and a school in Connecticut had agreed to keep my son for the year so that I could delve fully into the process of imaging an educational program - a Waldorf school that could adapt its form to the needs of each child, with its foundation in meaningful work and service to others. 

This was and still is an effort that requires many individuals to come together, to create a community (even within a community) around this work. With the help of people like Norma Johnson, Ann Stahl, Judith Brockway, Paul Scharff, Gerald Karnow, Jairo Gonzolez, Brenda Bean, Liesl Winter  and many other Fellowship and Threefold community members, the Otto Specht School impulse was reignited. This army of healing hearts came together to care for the needs of the Otto Specht students in activities that gave wisdom to their hands, strength to their hearts, and clarity to their thinking - all in a community where every individual was respected, appreciated, and needed; something that special needs children do not often experience. 

In 2004, 20 years ago, the Otto Specht School, rooted in Waldorf education, opened its doors officially as a homeschooling program to 3 students - my son being one. I remember once being in the barn when my son was milking a cow. I took over the miking (we were still doing it by hand back then), and when I looked behind me, the cow in the next stall - her name was Heidi - had decided to sit down. My son sat next to her and Heidi put her head in his lap. He was a little fellow back then - barely the size of her head! As he was cradling and petting her he told  me that the angels around her head were smiling. 

The Otto Specht School has grown up quite a bit since then. Things have changed, some things lost and many gained, but what remains the same is the picture of the human being and the capacity to say yes - no matter how challenging it may seem.  And the angels are still smiling …

Inspired Teaching: Short Memoirs from Otto Specht

These stories contain very true moments from Otto Specht School. Names and some details have been changed or omitted for privacy and brevity. At Otto Specht, we often bring these moments to our faculty meetings - the challenges and the insights that shifted the child into a more positive outlook or outcome. Together, we are able to build a picture of each child and what they are requiring from us. Remarkably, we recognize time and again that they are requiring us to take notice and make changes in the ways that the world at large is crying out for us to do.

A Story for the Wooden Toys

by Joen Dealande

Ronia joined in January of her first grade year. It was my first year at Otto Specht School. I was a trained Waldorf Teacher with 8 years of class teaching experience and several additional years of experience teaching other subjects such as music and drama. However, when Ronia came, I felt suddenly like a novice. Ronia is very bright and quick but academically delayed due in large part to an inability to be in a classroom for extended periods of time, to follow teacher instructions, to focus for more than a brief amount of time, or to attend to non preferred activities. In short, she lacked the general baseline criteria to be in most school environments.  Ronia presents with what is termed a Pathological Demand Avoidance (PDA) profile, displaying a strong lack of recognition of adult authority and an inability to take verbal directive i.e. she cannot do anything the teacher is directly asking of her even if she wants to do it, among other behaviors. 

As a Waldorf teacher my use of story is extensive in the classroom. With Ronia, however, if I tried to tell a story she would quickly become very restless and begin to engage in distracting behavior, talking over me or moving about the classroom. If I persisted she would begin to throw objects or turn over chairs and desks. We found some other ways to get work done - often outside, but I felt like I was working without my greatest asset, and what is more, that Ronia was missing out on the nourishing soul content the stories provide alongside their more “academic” lessons. 

With help from my evening meditations, in Second Grade, I hit upon the idea of having a group of wooden animals lined up on a desk, and while Ronia was busy doing book work or drawing, I would tell the story to the animals. The next day I would question the animals about the story, they would give me answers silently and I would repeat the answers aloud for Ronia’s sake. At first I could only get away with about five minutes of storytelling but bit by bit I could stretch this out. The wooden animals heard a good number of stories about different saints and a couple Jataka tales, though I might take two or even three weeks to complete a story. 

We always drew pictures  and I would repeat that portion of the story as we drew. On Fridays, using wooden peg dolls simply dressed in paper costumes (many of which I made in the classroom on the day) I would retell the stories as a little puppet show. Ronia began to ask if she could do a puppet show herself, and in these she would weave elements of the story into her play.

Late in the year came the startling day when, as I was asking the animals about the Jataka tale of the brave little parrot, Ronia raised her hand and provided the correct answer. From that point on, though I never asked her directly, she would often give the answers, showing the surprising amount she was actually taking in.

Since working at Otto Specht School and with Ronia in particular, I have read quite a bit about special needs children and especially those with a PDA profile. I do not in any way consider myself an expert, nor do I know whether these methods would have worked with any other child. I do know that Waldorf pedagogy is not just a rich curriculum; it is meeting each child and figuring out who they are and what they are asking of us. And I do feel strongly that the real work comes in our meditative life, and that inspiration is there for the asking from the spiritual world. Sometimes, with these children whose needs are so particular  to themselves, I think it’s the best place to find what we need.

Hurricane Charlie and some Advice from Mother (Nature)

by Mihail Etropolski

Tall for his age but with the somewhat undefined limbs of a younger child; legs that somehow mostly keep from falling as they bang their way through the rocks and brush of campus, seemingly a step behind - or maybe at times ahead, of the rest of him. Charlie has what can be described as violent outbursts. On his third day of second grade at our school, he knocked over several chairs and two tables, emptied the bookshelves of all their contents, and threw almost all our classroom items all over the floor. The few times I reminded Charlie we’d have to clean everything up before putting our shoes on for recess, a new item would find itself flying across the room. It had all begun so suddenly that a classmate and teacher were struck by flying walnuts used for math activities, before we diverted everyone else to an activity out of the classroom.

Similar episodes were why Charlie had to leave his previous school, and why he has experienced a series of shuffling venues and caretakers, and he was sure to show us what he was capable of before he got too comfortable. Charlie is bright. He has absorbed many facts about the world, memorized from conversations with and between his bright, well educated parents or overheard amongst adults, on the radio, or on the TV. When it comes to school activities, however, it can be difficult for him to follow the structure, move towards a clear goal, or even lose himself in play with peers. Very quickly into one of these activities, some realization comes into him, and he resists continuing, usually passively but sometimes with flying objects and furniture turned upside down.

At an age when one is building their earthly home – one’s body, one’s habits – how difficult it must be for him! While trying to feel the ground upon which to build, has had to navigate shifting school structures and authorities. When laying the bricks and mortar, his own being is rebelling and knocking them down.

At the Otto Specht school, our Farm and Garden program and the enlivening setting of our campus gives us access to the wisdom of nature. And boy do we need it when questions get tough. Here, Charlie’s love of animals has found an outlet. When he cares for the chickens, geese and horses, he is experiencing the love that his teachers and caregivers have for him. When he wades through the stream and builds dams, he is engaging in the balancing and movement activities that will form his body for the future. And when we teachers look to the unwavering support of Mother Nature, we can embody the loving authority that he so needs.

On the day Hurricane Charlie upended the classroom, he wanted to skip cleaning and just move on to the next part of the day. This was not allowed – we needed to make sure everything was the way we found it first. After a few more reminders, I said “Ah, you must be too sleepy to clean at the moment. Let’s make you a little bed.” He nodded and cuddled up on a sheepskin with a beanbag as a pillow and a play-cloth as a cover. I hummed a little, although Charlie never went to sleep. In a few minutes, he stood up, and began picking up blocks, walnuts used for counting games, and books to put back on the shelf. Together we put every single item back, stood at the center, looked about, and said out loud, “I did that!”

Over the next three months, Charlie’s outbursts became less frequent, and I wondered if he was perhaps growing more confident about the ground on which to build his home. One day, as we were finishing up a lesson, a classmate asked him if he was returning to our school next year. Without a trace of his usually muffled and hesitant speech, Charlie plainly said “Yes. And we’ll have to make sure we change this to the third grade classroom because I love it here and I want to stay.”

Running as a Metaphor

“I knew long before I toed the start line of the Vermont 100, that I was finishing.  It wasn’t one specific factor, and it wasn't wishful thinking.  I wasn’t saying this to trick my mind into believing it.  I just knew. ” - Matthew Goldstein 2024 Finisher, Vermont 100

The day was about perfect - sunny, moderate temperatures, the beautiful Vermont countryside, horses, runners, race crews, the enthusiasm of so many people doing something so crazy. At 10am when we first met Matthew at the “Stage Road” checkpoint, it all seemed almost easy - and after all, it was only 30 miles into the race - easy… Runners were smiling as they refueled and received hugs and cheers from their crews and race volunteers. At the next station, Camp 10 Bear, mile 48.6, I began to see the dirt and bruises, pain and perseverance,  and only in that light did I begin to understand the “why.” My time at Otto Specht has shown me the different strength and tenor of the capacities one gains through adversity. Experiences like this redefine what is possible. 

Matthew understood this race as a metaphor for the work we do at Otto Specht long before I began to draw these parallels. His son Rafa has been with us for 2 years now. This was why Matthew chose to use the race to let people know about our school and to raise funds so other children could attend. It is why I was there to pace him and Mr. Bosch, Rafa’s teacher, was there to help crew the stations with Yara and Leia, Rafa’s mom and sister. But only in being there in the midst of it did we realize we were stepping into something that was somehow familiar.

In another 11 miles, the “Margaritaville” checkpoint, mile 58.9, the picture for Matthew had drastically changed. SInce leaving Camp 10 Bear a couple hours prior, he had been vomiting nonstop. With his crew there to support him, Matthew tried anti-nausea medication and tried to keep something, anything, down (coconut water and some contraband ramen from a race volunteer worked). In his greatest moment of struggle, he had a network of support - giving him his jacket, blankets, hat, and a full length chair upon which he took a 2 hour nap! And this is the crucial thing about support - in your moments of strength, it may be just a nice backdrop, a high five to boost your confidence, words of encouragement - but in a moment of need, the right support can change the course of one's journey, sometimes drastically. 

We had planned that I would meet Matthew at the “Spirit of 76” checkpoint, mile 78.5, and pace him for the last 22.5 miles.  I admit my uncertainty that I would be running as he napped and I questioned whether it was possible to recover and run 40 more miles. When he took off again, I decided I would be ready to join at the next checkpoint, mile 70, just in case. You can imagine our surprise when Matthew practically sprinted past us having run his fastest 10 miles of the day! “Aren’t you the guy who was napping at Margaritaville?” one runner asked as he began passing many of the runners who had come and gone in the two hours he spent at Margaritaville. Matthew felt good. He would see me at Spirit of 76 as planned. 

The next 7 miles were a grueling elevation gain that his recovery had spared me, but at 1:30am, Matthew pulled into the checkpoint, ready for me to join him through the finish. We headed out into the forest and farm roads, calm and beautiful under the nearly full moon. We held a steady jog on the flats and walked the hills. We passed a couple runners here and there, but otherwise the night was quiet. Once, as we were holding to a nice pace, the glow of our headlamps landed on another runner, just off to the side, who had taken a seat on a stump. We could see the look of doubt and despair on his face. “You ok?” we asked. He was not in a good state, the fatigue and the night wearing on him, biting into his resolve and his judgment. Even in the summer, when your body has been through 80 miles and your clothes are sweaty, sitting for too long will quickly drop your temperature, your muscles can stiffen, and you can find yourself in a bad place. “Come on,” Matthew told him. “Come with us.” We walked together for a while, talking, and his mood lightened. He told us to go on a couple of times, not let him hold us back, but we stuck together until he regained his resolve and joined up with some others. There is a camaraderie born out of shared struggle that was very present at the race; a community built amongst strangers. No one was trying to get somewhere at anyone else’s expense, whether finishing in 17 hours (this year’s winner, a woman, finished in 17:19) or 30 (the cutoff). 

At some point, still well before sunrise, Matthew tells me he has just seen lawn chairs neatly stacked amongst the trees, and that the road had an interesting geometric pattern to it. He also saw a family of ducks that turned out to be horse poop and a bronze statue of Yara but chose to keep those visions to himself. Matthew was certainly not the first to hallucinate during an ultra marathon; fatigue of a much milder sort can cause sights, but in this case it is also a little known side effect of anti nausea medication, and a first for Matthew. A better known side effect of the medication is fatigue and moments later, Matthew was begging to take “just a 60 second nap on the side of the road.” It was my turn to not let someone make poor choices on this splendid moonlit night and I had to keep telling him -“not ‘til Bills.”

Bill’s was the next aid station, mile 88.8, and we arrived as the moon was setting behind the trees past the hay fields. It was beautiful. Matthew took a 90 second nap (he earned an extra 30 seconds for waiting). As the faintest light began to color the landscape, we set back off. The sun rose and we went through more bucolic scenes - cow fields, forests, and quiet neighborhoods where many people had left water buckets and signs of encouragement on their lawns to support the runners. Walking up a hill, our friend from the forest, by now in excellent spirits,  passed us with a group of runners, and later we passed them again. Time and again we wound up running with people who Matthew had last seen maybe 20 or 60 miles earlier. Everyone was on a shared journey but everyone was also on their own personal journey. We heard about ups and downs in brief conversations before parting ways again - slower, faster, passing, being passed. 

In the stunning clear morning light, we came to “Polly’s,” the final aid station. The crew was there and ready to support but as I was about to pull over, he said, “Let’s keep going.” And we did. More cow fields and forests, hills that somehow became taller when you thought you were almost at the top, and finally the sign: “Mile 99.” We paused for a quick photo of Matthew and kept on - a new sense of excitement as we wound through the forest paths. The another sign - “½ mile to finish” and Matthew says, almost casually - “You wanna see something?” and off he goes, me, his pacer, who had not even done a full quarter of what he had, racing to keep up! Those final runners we passed stepped to the side in congratulations as we flew past. To mile 100. 

Matthew had finished the Vermont 100 before, 5 hours faster than this time around. He had also had to drop out before, right at Margaritaville. He didn’t have a crew that year to help him get back on his feet. Matthew didn’t see the extra 5 hours as a disappointment. He looked at the positives. Running through the whole night. Watching 2 sunrises. It also left him with the question, “How long can I really run for? How many more miles?” 

You can still support the Go Fund Me, the funds from which support scholarships for students to attend Otto Specht School.

https://gofund.me/2f5d0a42

Any Lengths

Most parents would go to any lengths for their kids. For the parent of a child with special needs, those lengths can be extraordinary. 

For more than a decade, Matthew and Yara Goldstein have had to fight to ensure that their special needs child, Rafa, receives the free and appropriate public education guaranteed to all children, regardless of his disability. 

This July, Matthew Goldstein is running the Vermont 100 to raise awareness and money to help families like his— parents with children that don’t fit into traditional schools due to their unique needs and learning styles. 

At age three, Rafa was placed in a public preschool program for children with special needs where he got the support that he needed and did well. But when the year-long program ended, Yara and Matthew struggled to find another school that could meet their child’s unique educational needs.  

“Traditional schools are not designed to meet the needs of the students unless they fit into a perfect box,” Yara says. “Most kids are outliers.” Whether a child is able to succeed in a traditional school setting, she continues, “just depends on how far outside of the box they are. And Rafa is very far outside the box.” 

In addition to being a parent, Yara works as a licensed social worker and clinical therapist, counseling countless families like her own. Even special education schools on the NY State Approved list, she says, are not appropriate placements for kids like Rafa. “They're not equipped to deal with kids that are really, really bright, yet can't do traditional academics, and also have receptive and expressive language delays,” Yara says.

---

Thankfully, Matthew says, “We have more support here [at OSS] than we’ve ever had anywhere. And that’s amazing.”

---

Like many parents of children with special needs, Yara and Matthew were initially unaware of their rights, including the option to request a private evaluation and the district’s obligation to pay for it. As the family toured potential programs and interviewed staff, Yara raised general concerns about the professional qualifications of staff members responsible for managing the behaviors of vulnerable students like her son. 

Rafa's struggles in school were due to a lack of understanding and inadequate resources, leading to feelings of frustration and helplessness. 

“When there was a delay in his reading, the schools blamed his behaviors,” Yara recalls. “[They said] ‘he can't read because of his ADHD, he can't read because he doesn't behave. He can't read because he can't focus.’” 

“We told the schools, ‘listen, we think he's on the spectrum. His brain works differently.’ They said, ‘No, no, he doesn't behave. He needs stricter rules at home. He needs more discipline.’”

Rafa is autistic, and has dyslexia, but wasn’t diagnosed with either until the Goldstein’s paid out of pocket for a private evaluation conducted at the end of Rafa’s seventh grade year. At one public ‘therapeutic’ program, he was physically and emotionally abused, leading them to homeschool for two years while the district searched for a less restrictive placement.

It was a horrible time in their lives, Matthew recalls. “Neither of us are teachers. We both had jobs.” Rafa needed constant attention, and suffered from the lack of socialization. “My stress level went through the roof.” 

Their lives changed for the better, Matthew and Yara say, when they finally found a school that looked past their son's diagnoses and saw his potential. 

Otto Specht School is a private Waldorf school in Chestnut Ridge, NY, specifically designed to meet the needs of students with developmental delays, social and sensory sensitivities, and learning challenges.

“We view behavior as communication and it is our job to figure out what the student is communicating,” says Otto Specht director Chela Crane. “Students like Rafa come to us traumatized from previous school experiences.” The school’s emphasis on the outdoors and experiential learning help students enter into the school environment despite often very high levels of school anxiety.  “experiencing a response to behaviors that is not the punitive response they are accustomed to, welcoming them back day after day, believing in the best part of them even after seeing the worst, slowly builds trust and allows for transformation to take place.”

“It takes a collaborative effort,” says Yara. “The parent and the school need to work together to help get a kid from where they are, to where they need to be. Otto Specht is incredible at listening to us. They don't just assume that they're the authority. We work together.”

At Otto Specht, Rafa’s accommodations have included a one on one paraprofessional, and Speech Therapy, and the curriculum tailored to fit his learning needs. The program is nature-based, and artistic activities, handwork and animal care are part of the curriculum. All children, but particularly kids with Rafa’s profile and life experiences, need a safe and supportive environment. Rafa thrives at a school that focuses on his potential, rather than unwanted behavior or meeting arbitrary requirements. 

When a local school district fails to provide a special needs child with an appropriate public placement, a parent has the option to pay out of pocket for a private program and seek the school district for reimbursement. Even in cases as clear as Rafa’s, the process is stressful and costly. For most, it involves hiring lawyers and it can take years of litigation and still more years to be reimbursed. Matthew is raising one hundred thousand dollars to contribute to a fund that will provide full or partial tuition deferrals for qualifying families who are awaiting reimbursement. 

Matthew started running and eventually completed his first marathon in 2008. Running long distances helps relieve his stress, he says, and provides a break from the hardships of parenting. 

When he ran his second ultra marathon in 2019, Matthew learned the importance of having a crew to provide support and aid along the way.

The first time he ran the Vermont 100, one year earlier Matthew had a crew of friends and family to support him. The second time, Matthew says, “I didn’t want to impose.” 

“I got sick,” Matthew recalls. “I started throwing up, and that probably went on for around 12 hours.” 

67 miles into the race, he decided to drop out. 

The July 19-21st event will be Matthew’s third attempt at completing the 100 mile run, which is held annually in West Windsor, Vermont. This time, Mathew says he’s got his crew lined up, including a pacer.  

“Towards the end of an Ultra race, it's recommended that one has a pacer— someone that comes in when it starts getting dark,” Mathew explains. 

A pacer is an ultra marathon runner’s most pivotal support person, and so it’s fitting that OSS Director Chela Crane has agreed to fill this role. An avid runner herself, Crane is meeting Matthew at mile 80 and running alongside him for the last twenty miles to the finish line.

Ordinary people can do extraordinary things if they push themselves, and so long as they have support and guidance. “You think running 100 miles is impossible,” Matthew says. “Then you do it, and you realize it's not impossible.” 

Similarly, the challenge of raising a child with special needs can sometimes feel insurmountable. Thankfully, Matthew says, “We have more support here [at OSS] than we’ve ever had anywhere. And that’s amazing.”

Ben Levin: Author, Advocate, and Otto Specht Alum

Ben Levin is a published author, autism advocate, and Creative Writing major at Fairleigh Dickinson University. His published works include the Nellie’s Friends series as well as a young adult novel In the Hole about a homeless boy in addition to self published books including Ghost Wars. Ben is passionate about many causes, ready to help and advocate for others any way he can. Most recently, he held a fundraiser for his 21st birthday, raising $2,121 to help fight homelessness. When asked what three words best describe him, Ben says: “Creative, hardworking, and self-conscious.” 

For several years at Otto Specht School, we had the privilege to witness and support Ben as he emerged from his internal world of imagination and took his first steps into a shared world, a world of interpersonal relationships with those of us who existed outside of his colorful mind. As Ben progressed, finding his place in the school environment and in the social world, he also became more organized in his movements, and his drawings and paintings began to show more form and stronger colors. All aspects began to flourish. In Middle School, he joined the basketball and track teams. Throughout his years with us, Ben continued to share from his imaginations but the sharing opened up and became dialogue. He often led his conversations with a question as his interest in others grew. He paid attention to context. He began to write down his stories and thought about who his audience was. For example, any of us who happened to have a pre-teen daughter had the privilege of receiving a copy of his first, self typed, photocopied, and stapled book of Nellie’s Friends, now a published series. 

Participating in the Pentathlon in 5th grade

Weaving the Maypole with his friend Giancarlo

Ben has overcome many challenges throughout his life, and for years, considered himself “recovered” from autism. However, in April 2021, during Autism acceptance month, Ben claimed his autism. During these last three years, he has advocated for us to see autism not as a DSM manual checklist of challenges but for the gift that autism and neurodiversity bring to our world.

Last summer, Ben and I took some time to talk about life. We began with his very first memories. He was about 4 and remembers playing with trains and stuffed animals, watching TV, and being with his family. These could be some of the first memories for many children, and as such, do not stand out but others would have remembered that at the time he was not speaking reciprocally even with his parents and he was not engaging with his peers. 

Middle School play

Ben did not know or think much about autism until the time he was considered “recovered.” This designation or “declassification” was based upon a test in which any score under 10 meant one was not autistic. Ben only scored a 3! But when asked how all this made him feel, Ben said it made him feel confused and isolated. At the time, Ben’s mother had written a book, laying out in detail her family’s journey “emerging from the shadows of autism.”  The book detailed tremendous strides, the triumph of a family hearing their child say “I love you” for the first time after years wondering whether they ever would. 

Ben read the book. He says he did not really think much about whether the person in the book felt like him but recalls feeling “different, alone, and less than” because he had this thing (autism) that they allegedly needed to change. For seven years, though, he went through life believing himself to be “recovered.” When he met friends, he did not tell them he was or even had been on the autism spectrum. 

Recently, Ben came to Otto Specht to read from some of his books and discuss being a young author.

Ben with The Hole after reading an excerpt at Otto Specht School in March 2024.

All along, Ben knew there were people who disagreed with the determination that he was recovered but he dismissed them until one day in the 11th grade when a close relative let him know they still considered him to be on the spectrum. Being as close as he was to this person, Ben had to take their opinion under serious consideration which led to another period of confusion for Ben. Ben had some solid friendships and was afraid of losing them if he told them he was autistic. However, he began to consider the nature of these friendships and recognized that his need for these friends had kept him from being his complete and genuine self and that by being honest with them, he might take a risk but he would know these friendships were genuine if they continued. But it wasn’t so simple - he was questioning what he should tell his friends, but at the same time was still questioning what he believed himself. Should he tell his friends he was recovered or should he tell them he was autistic? And was he autistic? As he was in this questioning phase, the same relative said to him, “Autism is lifelong.” He sat with this statement for another two days before discussing it with his dad who admitted he was a little skeptical of the idea of being “recovered” from autism all along. Then, Ben was asked whether he considered autism a disability or a neurotype. This was an important distinction for Ben as it made some sense of the idea of recovery. When Ben spoke to his mother, who had written the book about his recovery, she told him that yes, she considers him to have an autistic brain but that the categorization of autism from which she considered him recovered was based on the list of challenges. For Ben, the definition of autism that he embraced, encompasses both the challenges and the brain. 

It was six weeks after his own acceptance of his autism that Ben claimed and proclaimed it to the world via social media. The post begins: “For 3 1/2 years, I’ve kept a major part of my identity a secret to everyone I know: I’m autistic.” His post (see full post below) goes on to explain not only why he once hid his autism but how he can now recognize the gifts autism gave him. 

“A lot of good can come from having differences and being a part of a community,” Ben says. “I used to only have a couple of autistic friends, but now I have lots. Not everyone is a savant-stereotype, but everyone has a gift to offer, interests, things they are doing and so on.” 

His advice to others with autism? “Embrace it; don’t be ashamed of it.”

From Imitation to Authority

A mother Robin with precious care and relentless efforts works daily to keep her eggs safe in the nest. The sun rises and sets many times until finally the eggs crack and the baby bird glimpses the surroundings of the outside world. Again the mother Robin makes her way to support these helpless babes. She flies in search of food, protects them from intruders and keeps them warm through the cold nights. The babies see the coming and going, the care that is given to them. Each day they grow until the day comes when they begin to be too large for the nest. The baby bird's wings have grown and now show a strength that gives them an opportunity. They have seen mother fly in and out from the nest but haven't made the flight themselves. The moment arrives when they too must stretch their wings, trust in themselves and the environment, and make their way into the world. They trust in what their mother showed them all this time. Their wings carry them gently from the nest. They fly, haltingly at first, and soon they soar!

From the first beginnings of a child's life in utero, there is inexplicable care happening around the clock. Warmth, food, and care are given to the child in abundance so that their physical being may grow strong and to fullness. Once the unborn child can begin to hear, there is a sense of mother's voice. The unfolding of earthly life continues and the world begins to emerge through a symphony of experiences. The emergence of speaking is such a time where the child around the age of 2 begins to imitate the surrounding world through speech. A child's "mother tongue" provides the foundations for being able to learn any language on the Earth. Feelings are experienced when vowels are spoken and resounded. Forms begin to reflect their nature when consonants resonate. The qualities of the world are experienced and felt as a reality that can be depended upon. The time of childhood is truly a "kingdom", one in which, once left behind, there is no way to re-enter. A child wants to witness and thus know that they can trust their surroundings which can provide the reassurance that the world is inherently Good.

When I was teaching in the 1st grade, I remember a time where a student had climbed a tree and then began to feel scared. They didn't want to jump from the tree to the Earth below. Now I could have climbed up there, picked them up, and carried them down but it's obvious that this isn't the first choice to be of help. The tree felt like it was in the clouds and the Earth miles below. In reality, it was no more than a few feet which presented no danger to the child. I reassured them that "Mother Earth will catch you."A questioning gaze looked at me, then to the ground, then to the child's own hands, and was followed by a leap of faith that the ground was still there. Mother Earth did in fact catch them.

Rudolf Steiner has given so much to this world and it's important that the words that he shared be taken up from the page. During a lecture given for educators looking to work with children "in need of soul care", often referred to as Special Needs, he shared a thought that can present as incredibly helpful if taken up with earnestness. "You have no idea how unimportant it is what the teacher says or does in comparison to the importance of who he is as a person, as a teacher"(1). In reference to the story above, I could have provided a number of convincing solutions to the child with explanations and measures and logical conclusions of the child’s safety or I could have walked off and left them to figure it out themselves, knowing they were not in any real danger. The words I shared came from a place of Imagination that bridges the gap from the world seen by the young child to one that expresses its essence through activity. My conviction was sincere and the child could trust my words and could live into the image given.

Now that we are in the 3rd Grade together, there is a great difference in the students' conception of the world, and in my task to help them enter into life. A crisis emerges around the age of 9 when a child begins to leave this kingdom of childhood behind. A shift takes place where a greater sense of oneself unfolds and separation begins to be felt in waves. A question arises in the inner life of the student "How do they (teachers, parents, adults, classmates) know what they know?" What was once taken as irrefutable now is up for debate. With such a variety of opinion, expression of human life, and exposure, especially in this technological age, there is a chaos brewing inside the children during this stage of development. The educator's task is now to be a source of not just saying what I believe but to be a living example of my ideals. The trust built throughout the earlier years, guiding them gently from the trees to mother earth, provides a foundation for the new trust that is being sought. 

"Children of elementary school age no longer absorb what they observe in their environment; now they take in what lives in the objects of observation. They enter a stage which should be based primarily on the principle of authority--the authority children encounter in teachers... Children want to see teachers as mediators between themselves and the whole Universe"(2). The curriculum provides tools by which the students of this age can begin to discover objective measures of truth for themselves, but most importantly, the teacher offers themselves as a living example of a truth and authority in who they are. This natural tendency to question and challenge, if left unfostered, can have great consequences in later life. If as a child who goes through this was unable to find these authorities in their lives then it can be increasingly difficult to enter into our later adult life with a sense of purpose and freedom. Take a moment and reflect on those who surrounded you at this time as natural authorities. Can you remember how they lived their lives? How did they impress you with who they were?

There are mysteries in Life which can awaken capacities that are slumbering. By beginning to understand how the Human Being enters into life, we can glimpse an experience that is common and also completely individual. These threshold moments hold great responsibility, not only for those who are initiating them but also to the helpers in our lives. Our beliefs about who we are, where we are going, and what happens next can become crippling if we cannot enter into them with a sense of trust. This trust is fostered as the first experiences or "feathers" of our lives begin to show themselves. The wind may blow strong and fast but it is there as a medium by which we can learn to fly.

1. Rudolf Steiner, Curative Education, lectures of 1924, Rudolf Steiner Press, Bristol 1993

2. Rudolf Steiner, The Spiritual Ground of Education, August 16th 1992, Anthroposophic Press, Great Barrington 2004

A Day in the Night of Winter

Once upon a time, in the heart of a peaceful kingdom, there lived a courageous princess named Aurora. She was known far and wide for her fearless spirit and unwavering determination. Aurora's dearest companions were her loyal friends, Percival, a forgetful pig with a heart as big as the kingdom itself, and Randolph, a very old and  cranky  rooster  with  such a deafening  cock-a doodle-dang-it that it could  wake up the entire Kingdom.

Their kingdom was nestled on a farm where Percival and Randolph spent  time doing what pigs and roosters do, alongside the cows, yaks and donkeys. The farm was full of love and kindness and provided the people of the kingdom with all they needed to eat. That is, until a King who wanted everything to be always the same came and  cast a spell on the farm and the kingdom.  King Stuckalot, as he was called, cried out, “This kingdom is now mine and will be a place of forever darkness and cold.  No more changing of the seasons.”  The people tried to talk to the king but he refused to budge.  The first snowfall wrapped the kingdom in the usual blanket of beauty and peace a first snowfall brings, but soon the freezing temperatures  and relentless ice and snow caused the  people to huddle all alone in their  houses. They could not even step outside. The more they feared, the more lonely they became, and King Stuckalot’s spell  grew stronger.... Thick ice and snow covered the kingdom. The usual winter joys of skating on frozen ponds and sledding down hills could not be enjoyed as the cold and the dark were so cold and so dark. 

Being the wise and brave  princess that she was,  Princess Aurora  knew what had to be done. She would not stay huddled in fear forever. She turned to her two faithful friends, Percival and Randolph, and said  “We must go together and save the kingdom. Percival, you must bring words of warmth,  and Randolph, you must sing to the sun until it can shine again and I shall  use my sword of gold. Together we will break the spell.”  Cranky Randolph complained that this was altogether not possible and they were doomed to be ice pops forever.  Nonetheless, he joined his friends. As they made their way through the dark, cold, and ice-filled forest, Percival looked to the princess and said “ wait, what are we doing again?”   Randolph rolled his eyes but before he could answer,  the three friends came upon a massive  wall of ice . 

Percival, despite his forgetful nature, had a remarkable knack for understanding the earth and the changing seasons. He could feel the land's despair and the people's fear, and he could hear the sizzling from the fire deep within the earth; and oh did that fire sound wonderful!  Percival  suddenly remembered a rhyme  from when he was a piglet and shouted it out:

Hungry pigs gathered, a rowdy crew,

Their appetites big, their manners few,

But in the fire of friendship they’d find delight, 

Sharing their slop, such a comical sight, 

With  oinks and giggles they roll in the hay 

Their curly tails spin - oh what a warm wonderful day! 

Oink -idi-oink!!

As Percival  oinked these words with pride and joy,  he giggled and wiggled shouting “Sing Randolph Sing!” Randolph, despite  being cranky and feeling very nervous, unleashed his the loudest  cock-a-doodle- dang -it  ever. The piggies' words  danced on the do’s and dangs  of the old rooster's song. 

Suddenly, a ray of light began to shine out from deep inside the earth’s core, making its way up to the icy wall. The wall began to crack and there it was - King Stuckalot’s immovable castle of ice. 

Princess Aurora, filled with the fire of courage charged through the wall and plunged her  golden sword into the heart of the ice castle . The small ray exploded into a radiant light  that burst forth, reaching straight up to the sun. The ice began to shatter and King Stuckalot began to melt.

Percival, who could not swim, slipped off the melting ice block into the freezing water.  The Princess ran to save him but was only able to grab his curly tail.  “ Help Randolph”  Princess Aurora  cried out.   The rooster shivered with fear. “Oh what to do-do-do dang it do…” he crowed. The freezing water was about to swallow Princess Aurora and Percival when Randolph, for the first time ever in his long life,  used his mighty wings to fly . He flew up into the sky then swooped down to grab  the princess and the pig and flew them to  safety, landing on a soft mound of  snow and hay. The sun began to shine and King Stuckalot  continued to melt, turning into a small shining pond. The spell of King Stuckalot had been broken!!  The trees began to bend with joy and the animals frolicked and the people of the kingdom cheered the praises of the princess, the pig and the rooster. 

Unfortunately, the old rooster had given all the energy he had left in his old life when he spread  his wings and saved his friends. He lay on the ground while  the princess stroked his feathers.  For the first time, since before he hatched so many moons ago, he smiled, and with his smile he closed his eyes and  slipped away into the warm canopy of forever sleep. A gentle tear fell from the eye  of the princess and sparkled as it landed on Randolph's mighty crown - which never looked so grand. All of a sudden,  a glorious wind swirled around the three friends, swooped up old Randolph  and carried him high in the sky into the arms of the sun.  To everyone's surprise, Randolph  opened his wings and flew - up and away into the heavens.  The sun was out and the imprisoning  spell of endless darkness was over.  Now the seasons could return, the crops could grow, the eggs could hatch,  and the people could return to caring for the land and the kingdom they loved. 

That night, as Princess Aurora lay in her cozy bed with her fabulously forgetful pig by her side, she gazed out at the night sky and there he was - Randolph - a sparkling constellation of stars right up in the North. 

Princess Aurora shrieked with delight. “ Look Percival ! she exclaimed “There in the sky - it's Randolph!”  Randolph the brave and selfless rooster  was given the glory of twinkling light for the rest of eternity.

Princess Aurora grew up to be the Queen of  the peaceful kingdom and Percival, the forgetful pig,  became mayor of the farm. With his big heart and wise ways, he always reminded the animals to prepare for whatever changes were coming - even if he could not quite remember at the moment what the change would be - it was ok.  While Percival’s mind could forget things, Percivals heart never waivered. Together he and Queen Aurora lived a long and happy life, visiting with Randolf every night. The shining pool that once was King Stuckalot, reflected all the beautiful seasons on its surface, and the people celebrated its ever changing state. Children watched tadpoles turn to frogs in springtime, swam in its cool water in the summer, sailed bark boats decked with red and gold leaves in the autumn, and skated on its frozen surface all throughout the winter, which would not last forever.

And Randolph, as he watches from on high  still twinkles in the sky and  protects all farms and animals, even to this day.

If you look to the night sky, you  will always see Randolph's  star sparkling brightly in the north; always there to light your way through even the darkest of days.

Farm & Garden Update: 100 Years of Biodynamics

One Hundred Years ago, in the final years before Rudolf Steiner’s death, he gave some of his most significant and enduring lecture series’, including the Agricultural Course. From his indications in this course surged forward a new method of agriculture, firmly rooted in the essential nature of plants, animals, soil, and spirit, a contrast to the increasingly technologically driven methods arising at the time. This impulse came to North America, with Ehrenfried Pfeiffer, one of a small group tasked with developing these agricultural methods. Pfeiffer came to a small town in New York, an easy distance from the city, called Spring Valley, now known as Chestnut Ridge, where a small farm had begun. Here, at Threefold Farm, he provided summer conferences. For the first time on this continent, Biodynamic Agriculture was practiced and biodynamic research was carried forward, right here on our school campus. These methods have continued to be practiced in the care and cultivation of the land here, and our students are now active participants in this work.

Both the Medicinal Garden and the OSS North Farm were some of the original garden areas on campus, whose footprints and agricultural work our school re-established in recent years. The forests, gardens, and pastures we work in traverse every day, have had farmers oversee its use and care with biodynamic principles and insights. Decades of building soil, layer after layer, with compost and crop rotations, biodynamic preparations, and a planting cycle attuned to the planetary movement, continue to imbue the land with health and generating forces. The impulse for a paradigm shift in viewing the land as a spiritual being and not just an ends to a means, to care, protect, and preserve it with reverence rather than greed, is no less needed now than it was 100 years ago. Biodynamics, like Waldorf Education, came about so we could prepare for the future, to bring healing to the traumas Steiner saw coming to our earth and our humanity. At Otto Specht, we are working together with Endeavor21+ to build and maintain the Medicinal Garden as a community space. This garden, which has flourished and faltered in recent years, was one of two kitchen gardens when Mac Mead, renowned biodynamic educator who continues to help operate Threefold Community Farm and runs a yearly biodynamic course, first came to the community. OSS North continues to develop into a thriving micro-farm, with a small orchard added where potatoes were grown this year between the young trees. Students proudly returned home with potatoes and other goods, snacked on husk cherries, and had the benefit of participating in nearly a full year’s cycle of growing, especially those who joined for summer school.  Barley, oats, and peas have now been sown as this year’s cover crop and students will begin to transition into the greenhouse work where each class will have its own specific focus.

In our school and in our community, we are manifesting those impulses generated a century ago. We are, here and now, in this current time, on this significant piece of land, doing this important and meaningful work. It remains medicine and work not just for now but for the future, and watching the students connect and actively engage in the rhythms of the land and the season, makes me happy and hopeful.

Parent Spotlight: Rachel Shimmerlik Brown

“My mom is up there,” Amara said wistfully one spectacular early fall morning as the sun sent piercing golden rays through the not-quite changing leaves. Turning to the 3rd grade teacher, Mr. Goddard, she asked, “Can you get me a REALLY tall ladder?” “That’s called the stairway to heaven,” he told her. A while later, as they walked to Farm and Garden, Amara’s friend waved at the sun. “Hi Amara’s mom.” “Not now,” said Amara. “My mom is sleeping.” 

Rachel and her husband Eli moved their lives to the community in January so their daughter, Amara, could attend the Otto Specht School. Rachel quickly became a connector within the parent body of the school. The geographic distances between our families was no barrier for Rachel’s reach and warm invitations - to have playdates and to simply connect as a unique set of parents whose children often do not conform to the typical expectations of their age. Rachel connected as well to families throughout the local community as she took bike rides and walks with Amara, an enthusiastic friend to all who she met. Rachel seamlessly struck up conversations with the parents of each child Amara engaged with. When summer came, Rachel spent many afternoons swimming with her daughter at the pond while both continued to widen their circles of friendship. Rachel watched as Amara navigated the social landscape, something so natural to Rachel, but where, despite such deep interest, Amara often found it hard to enter in. Rachel skillfully found the moments to intervene, to ask a question, or to model a social norm. Amara began to find her way with more ease as summer progressed, and new friends were firmly established.

Our community was the last in which Rachel was able to form these deep friendships and connections, but from every era of her life Rachel had true and lasting friendships. Hundreds of people showed up days after her passing to celebrate her life and share in their collective sadness. Hundreds more joined via zoom. Rachel, it was clear, touched so very many lives profoundly even in her abbreviated time on earth. Everyone spoke of her ability to make life more enjoyable, to find a space for humor, and to just be there when needed. She could throw an impromptu dance party amidst what could be a mundane moment such as making breakfast. She knew how to live and she had also contemplated how to die when faced with Leukemia earlier on in life. 

At her service, Eli read her favorite stanza of her favorite poem, “Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird” by Wallace Stevens. 

It was evening all afternoon.   

It was snowing   

And it was going to snow.   

The blackbird sat   

In the cedar-limbs.

The contrast of this image to the humid, late August day outside seemed to emphasize the sudden departure of warmth and light that Rachel brought to this physical world. At first,one might be surprised that this introspective stanza was a favorite of Rachel’s. But thinking about this poem; so many perspectives of a blackbird, of nature, of human nature, of oneself, it makes sense. This is Rachel - her way of listening, considering, and bringing perspectives; her ability to go inside, deeply, but not shut herself off from twelve other ways of looking at a blackbird, and endless ways of looking at life. 

In myriad ways as well, we have watched Amara navigate her sadness and its many accompanying emotions. We have seen her make sense of her loss in ways that only the young and wise can do. Amara has a strong spirit, the kind of spirit that makes an undeniable difference in the world. Whether by chance or something greater, Rachel and Eli brought her here to our school, and meeting her at this moment feels significant. It matters that she is here and that we can provide a fortress of love she can push and bump up against, relax into, and be held by. All the while, we witness and learn. “It’s ok,” Amara said, confidently. “She knows who we are and she’s thinking about us.”

Back to Basics

Back to basics

Remember why you came

If you're going to give off light

Then you must endure the flame

Time has its toll

And some may call it pain

Transcend it all

And turn a loss into a gain

Death to the cloud

Is birth to the rain

This poem came to me at a time when I was questioning my ways about engaging with the world. The feeling of complexities that ended up going in circles, and in the end not being as helpful as I wanted them to be. The Buddha has a saying that "One candle can light 10,000". Now if that isn't simple effectiveness then what is! The wood that we burn in a fire is an expression of the tree's life. All the warmth and light given to it by the Sun has been "captured" in the wood and upon burning is then "released". The life-giving flame transmutes that which the tree has once been given and we then participate in this process. Thich Naht Hanh is a Vietnamese Buddhist who wrote many books about how to live a meditative life and how mindfulness is essential to this practice. In his book No Death, No Fear, he draws the reader's attention to the interconnectedness of Life; how the pages that one is holding came from the tree, how the tree grew from the rain, Sun, soil, and air. These elements needed to be there for the book to come into expression. By witnessing this holding of world connection, the possibility is there for peace to arise. In the lawfulness of connection, we are not bound like a chain but rather free to express ourselves, knowing that every element is there as well.

Day 1: Slavi

Day 2: Angel

Day 3: Slavi

Day 4: Benjamin

Day 5: Elisha

Day 6: Angel

Day 7: Parker

Time and Measurement

a Poem by Sean Goddard to support the third grade curriculum as they study measurement

Time flows in a circle

But one that always grows

It's something I can count on

Like fingers and my toes

The seasons are a gift

and offer me their power

Each month has its turn

Like minutes in an hour

The second may be small

But without them, there's no year

When the night is gaining strength

I know the Sun is near

At the Otto Specht School, I find that the "basics" are a golden rule for success. Laying a strong foundation is essential if any further growth wants to be formed with a firm footing. The students remind us how they see the world and if we can hold this perspective with their future in mind, our cooperation will help them flourish. The rate at which they change can make one's head spin! Within this capacity to change is the adaptability to life's circumstances and challenges. Resilience is effective to the extent that our connection can be sought and found, again and again. 

Allowing for the forces of growth to metamorphosis into thinking forces is a natural step of becoming fully human. The reverence of being able to witness this change in the students has been a force of growth for me as a teacher. How much there is to learn from one another!