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helen99Yesterday evening we went to a presentation on organic beekeeping at a local school library. The school was one I had never heard of -- Waldorf DC, grades K-12.
When we arrived at the site, it was raining, so we hurried to the front entrance without observing the surroundings too carefully. Once indoors, we stopped at a restroom and then quickly proceeded to the library to avoid being late for the presentation. Again, we didn't stop to observe any of the student accomplishments that were posted on the walls except in passing. I remember thinking the oil paintings looked professional and that the school must have commissioned someone to paint senior portraits. The phrase, "Those wacky Bethesda rich people" probably entered my mind at some point.
The presentation was more a philosophical one than one on practical beekeeping -- but that was ok with me, because philosophical errors lie at the root of many problems, so I was willing to hear what he had to say. Then I started getting confused.
What was a slide show about Swan Lake doing in a beekeeping presentation?? Still, I listened, determined to hear what he had to say. Using beautiful slides from a children's book, he led us through the story of Odette, who had been cursed by an evil sorcerer and forced to take the form of a swan by day. Sigfried finds her in her swan form by the lake, and is about to shoot her for sport, when she metamorphoses into her human form. He falls in love with her, and shortly thereafter the sorcerer appears in the form of an owl. Sigfried raises his cross bow to shoot the owl, but Odette stops him, saying he is not yet strong enough. She tells him that if one such as himself were to publicly pledge undying love for her, the spell would be broken and she and her maidens could live out their lives in their true forms. He instructs her to appear at his parents' home the next week when he will be presented with all the ladies of the land to choose a bride. When she arrives, the idea is that he will choose her. The plan is all set. However, when the day comes, the sorcerer sends his own daughter, Odile, to the ball. Odile looks enough like Odette that Sigfried gets confused and chooses Odile by mistake. Odette observes this through the window, cries out, and then goes off to die. Sigfried follows her. At this point the sorcerer intends to intervene, but this is his mistake. This time, Sigfried has nothing to lose. This time, he IS strong enough, and he is able to kill the sorcerer. However, the consequence of his mistake is that Odette can no longer live on the surface world. He decides to remain by her side, and he and Odette hurl themselves into the lake and live in the kingdom under the lake - the surface world is closed to them.
So... what did this have to do with the philosophy of beekeeping?
Current beekeeping practices are geared toward maximum production, and not the life and well-being of the bees, which reflects a widespread pattern. Basically, the ease of use and vastly improved production has "cast a spell" on beekeepers (and other producers). The reason they are not "strong enough" to slay the sorcerer is because until now, there has been no reason. However, in recent years, many hives have been lost, and some beekeepers have even lost all of their hives. The speaker was one of those. At that point, after losing his hives, he had nothing to lose.
When people come to this point, he said, they are ready for a paradigm shift. This was why he made the decision that instead of raising bees just to produce honey, he was going to raise them for themselves. He began to think of ways he might make life interesting and comfortable for the pollinators, and see if he could achieve the kind of immune system in them that could live with predators in a symbiotic way. His success rate has not been 100%, but it has been better than 1996 when he lost everything.
Then it was time to wrap up the talk, except for a group that stayed behind for more. This was when he gave us the recipe for "Fondant" to feed the bees (which sounded like tasty candy to me - had herbs in it), and also showed us more details about how his hives are put together. His hive looked more like the Taj Mahal than a beehive (I think I'll stick to simple little top-bars myself, heh), but it was a very interesting structure. He's trying to build the hives around sacred geometries and ratios (like the Golden Mean), which occur in nature. He was a fascinating old coot - I wish there were more of those around. He is the grandfather of two Waldorf students, and he came down from upstate NY to give the talk.
Anyway, all of that was very enjoyable, but not the point of this post. The point was, around halfway through the session wherein he gave most of his practical tips on beekeeping, I started to walk around the library and actually observe my surroundings. It was literally as if a bag had been removed from my head...
Those books. In that Library.
Amid the myriad classics were books about elves, the fae, the land of faerie -- everywhere in the library there was some reference to natural wonder.
"Wow, I don't think my school library had these books," was my first thought.
Then I started looking more carefully. The speaker had referred to something called the "Bee Lectures" throughout his talk, and to someone called Rudolph Steiner, who had predicted 80 years ago that the current bee crisis would happen if hyperproduction practices continued unchecked. After asking a few questions, I learned that the school is the DC branch of something called Waldorf Schools, which are based upon principles of Rudolf Steiner. I've never read any of his books (I think I probably will read The Bee Lectures). Conspicuously absent were any references to fanaticism of any kind. Evidence was everywhere of an openminded approach to all religions and an embracing of all ethnicities.
On the way out I looked again at the professional looking artwork on the walls. This time, I realized it was all student art. We spoke to a woman whose kids go to Waldorf. They all learn a musical instrument (one of them earns $30 per hour teaching the cello), they all learn how to knit, they all learn two languages, they all learn rain gardening and water catchment, do in-depth study of classical literature and world literature, and the sciences. I probably missed most of what they learn there.
But what truly separated this schol from other schools I've been in is, instead of feeling like a prison, it felt like ... a school. It felt like learning actually took place there, and people enjoyed learning. It felt like the teachers loved to teach, and the students responded accordingly. It felt like it was alive.
My comment on the way out of the school was, "I would have given anything, anything at all, to be able to go to a school like this."
When we arrived at the site, it was raining, so we hurried to the front entrance without observing the surroundings too carefully. Once indoors, we stopped at a restroom and then quickly proceeded to the library to avoid being late for the presentation. Again, we didn't stop to observe any of the student accomplishments that were posted on the walls except in passing. I remember thinking the oil paintings looked professional and that the school must have commissioned someone to paint senior portraits. The phrase, "Those wacky Bethesda rich people" probably entered my mind at some point.
The presentation was more a philosophical one than one on practical beekeeping -- but that was ok with me, because philosophical errors lie at the root of many problems, so I was willing to hear what he had to say. Then I started getting confused.
What was a slide show about Swan Lake doing in a beekeeping presentation?? Still, I listened, determined to hear what he had to say. Using beautiful slides from a children's book, he led us through the story of Odette, who had been cursed by an evil sorcerer and forced to take the form of a swan by day. Sigfried finds her in her swan form by the lake, and is about to shoot her for sport, when she metamorphoses into her human form. He falls in love with her, and shortly thereafter the sorcerer appears in the form of an owl. Sigfried raises his cross bow to shoot the owl, but Odette stops him, saying he is not yet strong enough. She tells him that if one such as himself were to publicly pledge undying love for her, the spell would be broken and she and her maidens could live out their lives in their true forms. He instructs her to appear at his parents' home the next week when he will be presented with all the ladies of the land to choose a bride. When she arrives, the idea is that he will choose her. The plan is all set. However, when the day comes, the sorcerer sends his own daughter, Odile, to the ball. Odile looks enough like Odette that Sigfried gets confused and chooses Odile by mistake. Odette observes this through the window, cries out, and then goes off to die. Sigfried follows her. At this point the sorcerer intends to intervene, but this is his mistake. This time, Sigfried has nothing to lose. This time, he IS strong enough, and he is able to kill the sorcerer. However, the consequence of his mistake is that Odette can no longer live on the surface world. He decides to remain by her side, and he and Odette hurl themselves into the lake and live in the kingdom under the lake - the surface world is closed to them.
So... what did this have to do with the philosophy of beekeeping?
Current beekeeping practices are geared toward maximum production, and not the life and well-being of the bees, which reflects a widespread pattern. Basically, the ease of use and vastly improved production has "cast a spell" on beekeepers (and other producers). The reason they are not "strong enough" to slay the sorcerer is because until now, there has been no reason. However, in recent years, many hives have been lost, and some beekeepers have even lost all of their hives. The speaker was one of those. At that point, after losing his hives, he had nothing to lose.
When people come to this point, he said, they are ready for a paradigm shift. This was why he made the decision that instead of raising bees just to produce honey, he was going to raise them for themselves. He began to think of ways he might make life interesting and comfortable for the pollinators, and see if he could achieve the kind of immune system in them that could live with predators in a symbiotic way. His success rate has not been 100%, but it has been better than 1996 when he lost everything.
Then it was time to wrap up the talk, except for a group that stayed behind for more. This was when he gave us the recipe for "Fondant" to feed the bees (which sounded like tasty candy to me - had herbs in it), and also showed us more details about how his hives are put together. His hive looked more like the Taj Mahal than a beehive (I think I'll stick to simple little top-bars myself, heh), but it was a very interesting structure. He's trying to build the hives around sacred geometries and ratios (like the Golden Mean), which occur in nature. He was a fascinating old coot - I wish there were more of those around. He is the grandfather of two Waldorf students, and he came down from upstate NY to give the talk.
Anyway, all of that was very enjoyable, but not the point of this post. The point was, around halfway through the session wherein he gave most of his practical tips on beekeeping, I started to walk around the library and actually observe my surroundings. It was literally as if a bag had been removed from my head...
Those books. In that Library.
Amid the myriad classics were books about elves, the fae, the land of faerie -- everywhere in the library there was some reference to natural wonder.
"Wow, I don't think my school library had these books," was my first thought.
Then I started looking more carefully. The speaker had referred to something called the "Bee Lectures" throughout his talk, and to someone called Rudolph Steiner, who had predicted 80 years ago that the current bee crisis would happen if hyperproduction practices continued unchecked. After asking a few questions, I learned that the school is the DC branch of something called Waldorf Schools, which are based upon principles of Rudolf Steiner. I've never read any of his books (I think I probably will read The Bee Lectures). Conspicuously absent were any references to fanaticism of any kind. Evidence was everywhere of an openminded approach to all religions and an embracing of all ethnicities.
On the way out I looked again at the professional looking artwork on the walls. This time, I realized it was all student art. We spoke to a woman whose kids go to Waldorf. They all learn a musical instrument (one of them earns $30 per hour teaching the cello), they all learn how to knit, they all learn two languages, they all learn rain gardening and water catchment, do in-depth study of classical literature and world literature, and the sciences. I probably missed most of what they learn there.
But what truly separated this schol from other schools I've been in is, instead of feeling like a prison, it felt like ... a school. It felt like learning actually took place there, and people enjoyed learning. It felt like the teachers loved to teach, and the students responded accordingly. It felt like it was alive.
My comment on the way out of the school was, "I would have given anything, anything at all, to be able to go to a school like this."