I WAS a Waldorf child.It‘s not something I‘ve been very public about because people can be cruel, mainly because they‘ve lost touch with their guardian angel or are not eating enough yoghurt. But I was one, for better or for worse.Our class was a tight-knit family (one plain, two purl, cast one off … yes that woollen tiger is coming along beautifully…), and we learned about the world in a free-flowing way. Sometimes also a free-falling way: I recall a lot of tree-climbing, and quite a lot of crying. Our uniform was the dirt on our knees and the only examinations we ever had were for lice.Soon, however, it was time to choose a high school. I was proving exceptionally talented at Israeli folk-dancing but I was not sure that this was a career that offered comprehensive medical cover and so I decided to go mainstream.Which is how I found myself in a Cape Town school called Westerford, learning the school song.The idea of a school song was new to me. Up until that point I had sung about ...
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