I Thought You Were a Gnome

Gnomes are magical beings, extremely small in stature, often a bit mischievous and playful. When I moved to Portland, I discovered the city has a particular affinity to gnomes. You can find gnome statues all over the town. In fact one of my favorite tea places had a very sweet gnome statue at the entrance. Said gnome sported a fashionable checkered vest with the characteristic pointed hat and stood at approximately 2 feet tall. I have a photograph of myself standing next to it.

A local Waldorf School has a gnome as their mascot for their basketball team. I find it humorous and somewhat ironic given how height is quite an advantage when playing basketball.

The magical world of Waldorf education is filled with references to gnomes, dwarves, elves and fairies. In kindergarten and first grade the children hear beautifully written and elaborate fairytales. Inevitably there are references to dwarves, such as in “Snow White and the Seven…” As a person with dwarfism, referring to fairytale story depictions and characteristics of dwarves is confusing and quite problematic.

Having taught in Waldorf schools for many years, I omitted any references to dwarves and consistently used the word gnomes. Colleagues and friends of mine soon began to do the same. One can easily tell the story of “Snow White and the Seven Gnomes.”

Recently I taught disability inclusion to the 8th grade students at a local Waldorf School. An innocent 1st grader stopped in his tracks, upon meeting me in the hallway. I warmly greeted this young student and said, “Hi, I’m Ms. Weber. I’m here as a guest teacher to the 8th grade students.” A few more of his friends appeared and also stopped in their tracks. I then said, “You might not have seen a little person before.” They all nodded silently. I told the children that I knew their teacher and how they must be learning about letters and numbers. Again they nodded while remaining transfixed. “Please be sure to tell your teacher that I say hello,” I said warmly. Just before heading back to their class, one of students lingered and responded, “I thought you were a gnome.” I smiled and heard them giggling on their way back to class. An innocent comment that evokes laughter also poignantly reminded me of the necessity of my work.

I later approached my friend, their teacher, and offered to visit the class. He warmly invited me to meet all the first graders. We had a tender exchange and I shared about my short stature with the class. When I mentioned that I have an average size daughter who also lives in Portland, much to my delight, the children were far more interested in hearing about her.