Global Chaprazz

I almost fainted today. Naked. And in front of 20 people. Quite embarrassing, I must say, but still not the most embarrassing thing that's happened to me (although I never seem to remember what that most embarrassing moment was...) I woke up kind of late and rushed my way to work without really eating breakfast or drinking any coffee and after the 5th 20 minute pose, waves of queasiness rushed up my abdomen to my ears. I tried to breathe deeply and swallow that clammy spit that seems to pool. The lights were too bright and suddenly everything started getting really intense around my forehead and I couldn't keep my arms or head up and sort of crumpled on the stage. I managed to sit down before I really fainted, but still perceived the world spinning and pulsating through darkness for two minutes. A student handed me an apple and I could hardly focus on it as he placed it in my hand. It took me a while to even understand what the point of this spherical object was. Another student ran and brought me a glass of juice, and some crispbread with peanut butter. Everyone told me to take a break, to not worry about them or the class and all of them were really kind. Obviously I felt terrible that I held up the class, but also very grateful that they were so kind to me.

I feel like the slightest hint of humanity makes me gush in gratitude and appreciation for the goodness in people, and that puzzles me a bit. It's not like I've personally experienced so much horrendous human behavior that I absolutely doubt the good in people, but acts of kindness are still not so easy to come by these days. There's a difference between kind and polite, and though we've cultivated ourselves to adhere to social niceties such as holding a door open for people, we really don't extend ourselves beyond the point of "socially acceptable" very often.

Why is that? Are people so afraid to open up a bit and show that they have good hearts? This behavior varies, of course, between cultures and the contrast is greatest between age groups, but even the open and oh-so-friendly people of Hawaii don't differ so vastly from the closed-up Swedes. Obviously the climate has some sort of effect on peoples' willingness to share with others before taking care of themselves. I probably wouldn't be so keen to rip off my jacket or give away my boots either, but somewhere in there there must be a little light that kindles at the thought of doing something for others. Although the "aloha spirit" supposedly prevails in Hawaii, I have to disagree. Yes, many people do live Aloha, but many don't. And that yields a general attitude that is just as closed-up as you'd find in any other place. Therefore I'm not experiencing some strange Swedish phenomenon where it's so hard to come by caring people.

It seems like good people are rare, but can that be so? I feel like I've met quite a lot of them, but maybe that's because I purposely surround myself with those people. The minute I walk into a bank or some extremely competitive academic department I get the feeling that everyone has a me-mentality and a desire to profit from everything and everyone possible. This is clearly more distinct in the States, where capitalism is trumpeted from every corner and hallway and the mere idea of socialism or some sort of community-based way of living is hushed with a devilish eye. The only reason I ever found myself in circles of caring people is because I sought them out. I volunteered with non-profit organizations, worked for free, wwoofed, tried to find those hippies and loving people who really do want to do good things for others, and went to a school that nurtured the idea of community. So it's no wonder that I know some good people, but still...What about all those assholes who just care about themselves? Don't they have a voice somewhere that prods their conscience every now and then and tells them to just do a good deed?

Especially now in the winter it's important to not fall into the I-hole, but to take the I-strength and pass a bit of it on. For the past two days, the local Waldorf School has put on its winter faire, and concluded the ceremonies with a heartwarming performance of the "Lantern Walk;" a sharing of light. Thousands were gathered in the great auditorium in pitch blackness. Two flutes started playing and maybe 50 students, possibly 5th graders, came filing out slowly in two queues, each holding a self-made dodecahedron lantern, their singing sweet and melodic. I started to tear up the instant the first lantern pierced the dark, and within a minute I was sobbing, tears spilling out in every direction, running down my scarf and neck, burning my eyes and staining my cheeks in salty marks. I couldn't stop and it was beautiful. They sang a song that I did eurythmy to in my 3rd grade play, and I've been trying to find it ever since. I know the melody and play it myself sometimes, but have no idea what it's called. Hearing that song brought back such vivid memories of a time when my life changed drastically.

The first few years of school were awful for me. They were more than awful. They felt like punishment and I felt like an imbecile. Unfortunately there was no Waldorf school where I lived in Florida and although I went to a "good private school" my teachers made me feel like a worthless retard. I stayed in during recess for remedial phonics and math because I was apparently too stupid to comprehend those things during class. I was never motivated, I was terrified of homework, tests, grades, projects, and most of the time there was nobody at home to help me because my family was all broken up, financially strained, depressed and illegally in the states. Basically it was just a shitty time and it reflected on my schoolwork. My teachers also thought I was a habitual liar because my excuses for not handing in my work went something like, "I didn't go home last night, and the people I were with only spoke Spanish" or "We have no paper at home" or "my babysitter didn't show up and I was home alone without anyone to help me..."

I got sent to the principles office on a count of not telling the truth, which was ridiculous, because I was telling the whole truth and nothing but. Asshole adults who think they're smarter than children... We also had these school uniform shirts that we had to wear and much of the time nobody did any laundry so I'd be sent to the office for wearing my normal clothes. Nobody ever believed me. In any case, I had very little support from my teachers and I needed it so badly. I hated art class because I didn't make anything look like it was "supposed to," I hated math class because we took time tests when we were 6 years old and I was so stressed that I couldn't remember anything. It was hard enough that I was still trying to get a grasp on the English language. I hated reading chapter books because most of the time it was about really morbid stuff like the civil war and slavery and since I had no interest in learning about grotesque wars and racism, I didn't read them, failed all the tests and developed even more self-hate. I hated my second grade teacher because she hated me and didn't believe in me and humiliated me in front of the class made me feel stupid, and all I really would have needed was a fucking hug. I really, really hated her. (And I don't hate people very easily.)

I was a pretty miserable child, but I think that Waldorf saved my life and definitely built up my self-worth. The moment I started 3rd grade I came home glowing. Finally, education that was worthwhile. I had teachers who were supportive, who listened, who helped, who set the value on trying, not on succeeding. I loved to sing and play music, to sew, to knit, to imagine things. I quickly became one of the best at math, started to love art and reading. Reading! You couldn't get me away from books. I chewed through the library like the Very Hungry Caterpillar and drew on every piece of paper I could lay my hands on. I actually started smiling for more than posed-photographs and let my soul shine through. Eurythmy was probably one of the best things about going to school. It made me feel so good. It was exactly the therapy I needed for my difficult years and I loved that it was about beauty and soul and aesthetics and music and warmth. Waldorf saved my life for sure, and every time I see a performance of some Waldorf school's holiday or play I feel gratitude rush from my head and chest into my bones and through the earth, gratitude that I had the privilege to that education for at least 10 good years.

 

The lantern walk moved me deeply. Not just because it's a Waldorf tradition and the songs were familiar, but because sharing love and warmth and light is something beautiful, and it was profound to see it done on such a level, especially in our day and age when we don't even know the names of our neighbors anymore. I think if more people participated in events like these we'd think a bit differently as a world. Well, that experience, followed by the kind art students during my sudden attack of syncope today give me a good feeling. I just wish I could share that good feeling and pass it on somehow. I wish everybody would think like this. We are a world, not a competition. Global Chaprazz.