Nance Aldrich

From the moment I walked into the White Mountain Waldorf preschool in Conway, New Hampshire, I knew Waldorf education was the path that would serve Ben Snow best. Without being aware of it, I was already raising him as a Waldorf child: no TV, wooden toys, calm, nurturing surroundings. In our homes we all have values that we want to teach our children. To have them constantly challenged is frustrating and difficult: "Should we say a grace?" "No one else does, Mom." You begin to think maybe it's not that important. But Waldorf supported our values and made them stronger. If you have that core, your tribe, you can go out into the world and fight the good fight. When Ben Snow was four, we were living near my folks in New Hampshire and their church had a small preschool where I took Ben to observe. There were garish plastic toys, mostly broken. The children were scribbling on dittos; a video was playing loudly. It was total sensory overload and it bred chaos. I was heartbroken that I was faced with leaving my child in such surroundings. I left crying and unsettled but instinct told me there had to be another option. Looking for a place to turn around, I passed a neat white fence surrounding a cottage with flowers in the yard and a little sign: White Mountain Waldorf School. I had a friend whose child loved her Waldorf preschool so I parked, wiped my eyes, and knocked. A dear woman opened the door, extended her hand and invited us to join the class for story. It was love at first sight. There were the same wooden toys I'd chosen for Ben Snow at home, soft colors, cheerful voices, happy, focused children. We'd come home! When my husband Jef was interviewed for the job of ski patrol director at Aspen Mountain, I sent him off saying, "Only if there's a Waldorf school!" Not only did he return with news of the growing Aspen Waldorf School but also, my old friend Barbi Sheffer, with whom I'd taught skiing at Keystone, had her daughter, Brooke, in the first grade. Barbi and I had connected in Keystone but once you share Waldorf, your souls are connected.

Ben Snow had trouble learning to read and it became apparent that he was severely dyslexic. He could have been tested, perhaps he should have been, but I didn't want him labeled and I was afraid that ADHD would also be a factor and drugs would be recommended. But Frannie, Miss Lewis, had faith in him so I had faith in him too. It's part of the beauty of having the same teacher all eight years. She knew Ben Snow better than anyone. Having not been labeled, I now feel that my son has turned out exactly the way he's supposed to be.

We left the valley to enroll Ben Snow in a Waldorf high school but our first attempt failed, so he repeated eighth grade in a public school. There he was taught using the Orton-Gillingham method and he's learned to read more fluently. He was on the honor roll, very outspoken and verbal, a leader. "He thinks!" the teachers said. "He has ideas! He loves to learn!" But he begged to return to Waldorf. He's such a heart child, the aesthetic qualities of his surroundings are as important to him as spirited teachers, and the soulless buildings hurt him as much as the mediocre curriculum. We moved again so that he could attend High Mowing Waldorf High School. Immediately he was singing on his way to school and when I asked if he liked his classmates he replied, "They're Waldorf kids, Mom. They just accept you for who you are."

The most beautiful thing happened when Ben Snow was in eighth grade at the Waldorf School on the Roaring Fork. Every year the class performs a play and Ben Snow was always given small parts because it was so hard for him to learn his lines. In first grade he was a lion and stood frozen on the stage, eyes bugged out. By eighth grade, it was becoming painfully obvious that he wasn't keeping up with his classmates academically and he needed to shine somewhere. The play was Much Ado About Nothing and Ben Snow intimated to me that he would love the challenge of playing Benedict, one of the leading roles. I spoke with Mr. Moore, the director, and despite his strong reservations, he agreed to give Ben the part. After reading how dyslexic actor Tom Cruise learns all his lines by listening to them on tape, Mr. Moore did the same for Ben, a feat in itself from a devoted teacher. Well, Ben Snow nailed it! He shined like a bright star and I was in awe.

"If you have that core, your tribe, you can go out into the world and fight the good fight."