On Freedom
If I did not “teach” children and young people freedom, I would rather not teach at all. It would not interest me. Teaching technical skills in behaviour, action, and artistic expression aimed at something merely pleasing is not enough. It is uninteresting, insufficient, unnecessary, and potentially manipulative. It can lead to self-display without a real relationship to the audience. Vyskočil used to call this “artistic-like” behaviour, or so-called art for art’s sake—an artificial creation of something that is distant from human truth. In “artistic-like” work there is no real creative journey, only the confirmation of one’s ego through admiration and applause from others. On the contrary, the path toward oneself as a true artistic personality goes through self-transcendence, sharing, opening up, and inspiring another human being. And that requires truthfulness. To find and understand one’s unique and unrepeatable personality, perspective on the world, and way of thinking. Pedagogy itself is a continuous and never-ending struggle for freedom—a search for the human being in their deepest identity, so that they may see themselves, others, and the world in wholeness, and be able to transcend things and inspire others. All the more so when it concerns creation, theatre, acting, and art in general. When a person is given a free space, truth will inevitably find its way to them. And perhaps nothing more is needed in pedagogy than this.
To remain a child forever.
What is fascinating about children is their authenticity, truthfulness, and wonder toward everything around them. Janusz Korczak said that children are everything adults are, only without masks. Pure in intention, they devour the world and ask questions. They sense that they are not finished. They look at the world and its possibilities with open eyes—astonishment without the need for logical loops or analytical justification. When this basic attitude is lost through adolescence, or buried under the weight of problems, fears, and everyday worries, a person finds themselves in an in-between space, left only with a pursuit of something undefined. The leading role in life is then taken over by a mask of importance, as Exupéry describes in The Little Prince, and the original sense of wonder disappears. And so it is precisely this childlike innocence, pure intention, and open gaze that can become inspiration for approaching life without judgment, condemnation, or categorization. In a world where mystery, incompleteness, and wonder still have their place, they invite a person into an adventurous search—asking, breaking down, discovering, building. A world where the fullness and color of life still exist in its endless possibilities and imagination.
Erika Merjavá
