Month: May 2016

“Steiner school parents became progressively withdrawn from family and friends outside the Steiner movement and gradually surrounded themselves only with those who followed the Anthroposophical belief system” The intoxicating fragrance of beeswax and homemade bread. Small wicker baskets full of pebbles and shells. A biodynamic vegetable garden. Wooden blocks, silk play cloths, felt slippers, sheepskins, a fireplace, faceless dolls, wordless books, formless paintings… The fetishizing of nature and the promise of an unhurried childhood can be very appealing to the educationally anxious parent looking to be green and good. I had previously read about Steiner Waldorf schools in a glowing article in a national newspaper. It described an holistic creative education based outdoors using “nature as teacher.” Intrigued, I began by taking my son to a Steiner parent and toddler group. So enchanted was I at the time, I managed to persuade my family to move 40 miles away to be near a bigger Steiner school where our son would be able to attend long-term. I remember attending the summer fair and whilst I stood in the queue to request a prospectus, a woman in front of me asked the administrator the following question: “How will the school meet the needs of my psychic daughter?” He smiled and replied “We are all psychic here.” I thought he was joking. Once we had moved and enrolled our son, the teacher started to mention the word “Anthroposophy” and the existence of a study group for new parents. I felt foolish that I had to ask what Anthroposophy was (I had previously looked for the word in my dictionary and had not found it) and was told it was the study of human wisdom. The teacher didn’t tell me a core belief of Anthroposophy as originally conceived is the concept of reincarnation of the soul through racial hierarchies from Black to Aryan as a consequence of a person’s karma; or the classification of a child’s soul according to their physiognomy, nor was I told of the AnthroposophicalRead More

‘You don’t expect a school to lie’: the truth about the Steiner school movement

“Steiner school parents became progressively withdrawn from family and friends outside the Steiner movement and gradually surrounded themselves only with those who followed the Anthroposophical belief system”

2016 05 13 LW v1 Steiner The intoxicating fragrance of beeswax and homemade bread. Small wicker baskets full of pebbles and shells. A biodynamic vegetable garden. Wooden blocks, silk play cloths, felt slippers, sheepskins, a fireplace, faceless dolls, wordless books, formless paintings…

The fetishizing of nature and the promise of an unhurried childhood can be very appealing to the educationally anxious parent looking to be green and good. I had previously read about Steiner Waldorf schools in a glowing article in a national newspaper. It described an holistic creative education based outdoors using “nature as teacher.” Intrigued, I began by taking my son to a Steiner parent and toddler group. So enchanted was I at the time, I managed to persuade my family to move 40 miles away to be near a bigger Steiner school where our son would be able to attend long-term. I remember attending the summer fair and whilst I stood in the queue to request a prospectus, a woman in front of me asked the administrator the following question: “How will the school meet the needs of my psychic daughter?” He smiled and replied “We are all psychic here.” I thought he was joking.

Once we had moved and enrolled our son, the teacher started to mention the word “Anthroposophy” and the existence of a study group for new parents. I felt foolish that I had to ask what Anthroposophy was (I had previously looked for the word in my dictionary and had not found it) and was told it was the study of human wisdom. The teacher didn’t tell me a core belief of Anthroposophy as originally conceived is the concept of reincarnation of the soul through racial hierarchies from Black to Aryan as a consequence of a person’s karma; or the classification of a child’s soul according to their physiognomy, nor was I told of the Anthroposophical movement’s history. I didn’t question further at that stage. As one parent recently observed “You don’t expect a school to lie.”

Many alarm bells rang during our time there. I remember the intense gaze of the teachers that would continue far longer than was comfortable. There was little laughter, everything was carried out in a very slow and purposeful way with a sing-song voice, the lighting of candles, the wearing of strange hats, their infatuation with wool — I recall a felting session where the teacher spoke of the special energy of the wool, declaring it had come from a biodynamic sheep. I recall the time the teacher took both my hands in hers and explaining my son had “chosen me as his mother,” on a further occasion she stated he had “chosen the school” and that children “get what they need” – ostensibly an innocent cliché until one understands its particular meaning within Anthroposophy. I also recall politely refusing a teacher’s offer, made during a parent and toddler group session, to lend me a copy of The Indigo Children and compile an astrological chart based on my son’s birth date. Another time, when a boy enacted a scene from a Spider-Man cartoon, the teacher asked his mother why he was behaving in this way. The mother explained that her son had been playing with children who lived on the same street — children who watched television and went to the cinema — the teacher replied, “It’s best to play with children from the school community.”

I noticed that some of the Steiner school parents became progressively withdrawn from family and friends outside the Steiner movement and gradually surrounded themselves only with those who followed the Anthroposophical belief system. I remember being invited to various other self-development programmes including Landmark Education/Forum, Non-Violent Communication (also known as Compassionate Communication), the Amma movement, and Family Constellation workshops — programmes the school appeared to endorse with many of the Steiner teachers participating in them. I remember the school reception displaying numerous leaflets promoting homeopathy. Mention of vaccination was conspicuously absent. I remember asking many questions and being told I was “too in the head” and that I should “learn to think with my heart.” I recall parents asking the teacher’s advice regarding well-meaning grandparents buying electronic and plastic toys, both of which are frowned upon in Steiner schools. The teacher directed them to a specialist Steiner Waldorf toy catalogue. I began to think this was more about control than care.

I remember looking around the school one Saturday and seeing a group of children performing a strange dance in long robes (eurythmy) which brought to mind certain unsought images from my degree-level studies involving mid-20th century European history. When the teacher noticed we were watching, she stopped the children and stared at us indicating we were not supposed to be witnessing the children’s performance even though it was outside. I remember feeling quite unnerved at the time.

During one of the sessions we attended at the school, my son was violently pushed backwards off a play bridge. I understand this is not unusual, as it could happen in any nursery or school. However, as I sat there comforting my child, I noticed that the teacher who witnessed the incident didn’t respond in any way or acknowledge what happened. Instead, she continued to sew in silence. I sat there in utter disbelief. The act of ignoring felt more violent than the original act itself. Seeing that I was somewhat baffled and distressed by the teacher’s lack of concern, a parent later explained to me that the children were “working out their karma.” I remember questioning her as I couldn’t comprehend what she had just said. She explained that her sister was a Steiner Waldorf teacher in Germany and repeated that it was their karma — it was one child’s karma to push, and my child’s karma to be pushed. I later telephoned the school stating we didn’t think the education was suitable for our son.

An extended version of this piece was first published on the Waldorf Watch website under the name ‘Coming undone: unravelling the truth about the Steiner school movement’.

‘As a young girl, it felt like almost everything was banned’

“The school expelled students who were accused of being gay”

I attended Jamia Al-Hudaa Residential College for Girls in Nottingham for my high school education from 2000-2006. It is a private school which relies on fees paid for by parents and donations from the registered charity Madni Trust which also caters for a boy’s boarding school in Sheffield. It is a Deobandi school which primarily follows the Sunni Hanifi school of thought. In terms of non-religious subjects we took English, Mathematics, Science (without evolution or sex education), Urdu, Arabic, I.C.T and P.E classes were sporadic. Religious subjects included Islamic law, Quranic interpretation, the sayings of Muhammed, Islamic history classes which treated the stories of prophets as actual historical events and memorisation of the Quran.

In 2014 I returned to the school for a university project in my third year after gaining permission from the head teacher. I found that very little had changed, except that they had installed CCTV cameras in the residential corridors.

While most of the below does not necessarily mean that the school broke laws, it is my belief that Jamia Al-Hudaa infringed upon the welfare, freedom and emotional development of its pupils, compromising our secular education in favour of intensive religious study.

We had no choice of beliefs, either we followed the school’s view of Islam or we were breaking school rules. It is important to really understand this – students were not given a choice about whether they wanted to practice Islam or not, and what type of Islam they followed. If we rebelled against the conservative Islamic school rules we could face detentions, suspension, public humiliations, cleaning, fines and expulsion. We sat on the floor with wooden benches to lean on when writing. Often girls would write on these benches, and as a punishment pupils were sometimes told to clean the benches with sandpaper. I remember my fingers aching from the sandpaper grating against them. As a pupil I rebelled and challenged religion often, and so faced a lot of punishments and disapproval from some teachers. I want to make it clear that not all the teachers were horrible, some were brilliant and tried to give us what they could with the little resources they had.

I was expelled in 2006 after a room check (something they did regularly without notice) as I was caught with a disposable camera: the school did not allow us to take pictures. Tellingly the school has never released a single picture of their female students or staff, as though it is too indecent to do so. Jamia Al-Hudaa for Boys on the other hand has uploaded videos of the male students on Youtube. I was publicly expelled along with a few other girls the next day. I was asked to pack and leave as soon as my parents were able to pick me up. The sense of humiliation and shame stayed with me for years.

As a young girl, it felt like almost everything was banned: listening to music, wearing make-up, chewing gum, being gay, challenging religion, teen magazines, befriending pupils that were older than you, locking your bedroom door for too long, having a mobile phone, talking to boys, plucking your eyebrows, wearing nail polish etc. The school expelled students who were accused of being gay. The management did not hide from parents of the accused pupils or students that they were doing this, even though it is illegal for all schools to discriminate on grounds of sexuality.

The school would also make us pray 5 times a day even if we showed that we didn’t want to. For instance, they would wake us up every morning for prayer, sometimes as early as 4:00 am by knocking on doors, switching on lights and telling students off for ‘being lazy’. They made it compulsory for every prayer to be read in the main hall in my third or second year. Wardens aided by older students would tick off the names of girls who attended prayer. If we missed too many without good excuse they made us sit in the main hall and read the Quran for long periods of time. On top of this we were told that our parents would have to pay a pound for ever prayer missed. We were also forced to fast. If you were healthy and not menstruating, the school would not provide you with food until it were time to break the fast. Some pupils had their own food, like noodles or microwavable pasta, but there was little chance of being able to eat a proper meal without someone seeing you, whether it was a roommate or warden.

The school didn’t provide much in the way of entertainment or methods to engage students. No TV, barely any Internet, a dusty and deprived looking library and a P.E cupboard which consisted of a couple of tennis balls and a rounder’s bat. The school also enforced hijab on the pupils. If we were in any part of the school where a man could see us through a window or where CCTV cameras operated, we had to wear hijab. This led to me being told off for much of the time that I was there because I struggled with the hijab. I didn’t like wearing it and I found the abaya (long dress) constricting. In the years that I was there the school did not take us on a single field trip, not even to a mosque or museum. We lived very simple lives consisting of classes, the two meals provided, home work time and spending time with our friends. Naturally I have some fond memories, for 5 years it was home. This does not in any way excuse the school for its poor education and the lack of basic freedoms afforded to pupils such being able to listen to music in the comfort of your own bedroom.

It is my view that the school has proven that it cannot care for the needs of children which can be seen in the most recent Ofsted report and I believe that the head teacher has broken the law by expelling girls on the grounds of sexuality, and she is not fit to run a school.

Aliyah Saleem is co-founder of Faith to Faithless, an organisation which supports those who have chosen to leave their religion.

My life in a Charedi school: ‘Physical punishment was commonplace and the atmosphere was one of perpetual fear’

“this was a school (and there are many like it), which crippled its students by denying them the education which they had a right to receive”

The primary school I attended didn’t have any regular classrooms or playgrounds. None of the teachers had any form of training, and most of them were unable to speak English properly. Physical punishment was commonplace and the atmosphere was one of perpetual fear. Religious studies were the core focus, and any form of dissent, even something as slight as not concentrating during daily prayers, was harshly penalized. You may by now be assuming that I was educated many decades ago, or under some fundamentalist regime. But this was in London in the 21^st century, and my school was far from unique.

This was a Charedi (ultra-Orthodox) Jewish boys school; one of many similar institutions in the area. I was sent there in good faith (pun not intended) by my religious, but by no means extremist parents, who wanted their son to gain a Jewish education alongside a secular one, and to do so within an acceptable distance from home. What they were unaware of was that behind closed doors this institution was run in manner more akin to Dickens’ Dotheboys Hall than a modern school under Tony Blair’s government.

I emerged relatively unscathed from this experience (I was naturally compliant), but I know of several others who were not as fortunate. Contemporaries of mine suffered extreme physical abuse at the hands of some of the teaching staff, with one boy getting his finger broken for speaking out of turn, and consequently requiring medical care. Others suffered severe beatings, and some even had soap or chalk put in their mouths for uttering so-called profanities.

Yet, horrendous as these incidents were, the school’s real crime was providing its pupils with an abysmally poor education. I was lucky enough to supplement my inadequate lessons by devouring our home library and by learning from my parents, both of whom had received a regular education. Had I not been able to do this, my literacy and numeracy skills would be of a debilitating standard. The school’s mission was to prepare its pupils for a life of religious study – all other considerations were ignored. Conversation and teaching took place exclusively in Yiddish. Having an understanding of the English language may, God-forbid, lure our young minds to secular literature. We never felt the need for any secular education. The “supposedly” great minds of secular scientists believed we came from monkeys, so we were told, and it took them thousands of years to discover that objects fall to the ground; giving it the fancy name of “Gravity”. This, of course, was used as evidence of the stupidity of secular education. We all knew that babies came from human mothers, and any Charedi child could tell you that objects fell to the ground.

You may be wondering why Ofsted did nothing to prevent this. Well for a start, the inspections were scheduled well in advance, giving the school enough time to clean up its act, hire a fake teacher and instruct the pupils on how to respond if questioned. Students were warned to be wary of giving the school a bad name, as this would in turn desecrate God’s name. Not to mention the physical beating that would follow the day after the inspectors left. Additionally, the inspectors were often practising ultra-Orthodox Jews themselves, and thus believed that ancient scriptures provided a more solid form of education to prepare the pupils for the afterlife.

Ultimately, even if the school had been given a damning report, Ofsted has little will to enact any changes. Any form of improvement simply meant compiling an additional policy and procedure file, locked away to collect dusk and mould with all the other non-Jewish material.

I don’t wish to paint a wholly condemnatory portrait, as there were some good teachers in the mix, and the standard of religious education was as high as you might expect. But this was a school (and there are many like it), which crippled its students by denying them the education which they had a right to receive and preventing them from flourishing into active members of society.

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