Czech Republic
"We all learn best when we feel happy and relaxed"

eaWriteDance is a combination of physical activity and making marks on paper. It is designed to develop children's coordination skills in order to promote a personal, rhythmic, fluent and legible style of handwriting. It seeks to make this connection through a series of sessions that combine a response to music, large body movements and the development of fine-motor coordination.

WriteDance was developed in the late 1980's by Ragnhild Oussoren Voors, a Dutch graphologist. It was originally based on the writing psychology from France in the late 19th century. The originator has very successfully developed her approach to the teaching of writing in most Scandinavian countries as well as Germany, France and Holland. Since the late 1990's it has become used increasingly in the UK.

Handwriting is a difficult skill to learn. We have to be able to do several things at the same time.

"We all learn best when we feel happy and relaxed"
WriteDance allows children to learn all the skills in a fun and non-threatening way.

With everything else we do at Herne to develop handwriting, WriteDance helps us to promote individual fluent, flowing styles

There are nine themes that we use for our WriteDance sessions. Each one is designed
to develop a specific movement.

Each class in the school spends part of their PE lessons throughout the year exploring the different themes of WriteDance.
The children usually begin by practising specific large movements in the hall where there is space for them to move freely. Once the movements have been mastered, the music begins and everyone moves to the beat or in response to the music depending on the theme.
Back in the classroom the children use different materials to make the movements on a writing surface. This may be anything from crayons on paper to washing-up liquid on a plastic mat.
Over time, these movements on the surface become smaller and smaller as the children gain control and confidence to explore, enjoy and have fun. 

Date: 23.07.2013
To do things together, to be able to notice each other ... the first steps can be done by dancing and acting together.

Education for Democratic Citizenship and Human Rights /EDC/HRE) is set of practices and activities for equipping young people and adults - our pupils and pedagogic teams - to play an active part in democratic life and exercise their rights and responsibilities in society. 


Date: 23.07.2013

In all Western European countries there is a growing awareness that we live in a society marked by diversity where many people and groups live together and have different standards and values, as well as ideas about raising their children.

Diversity in families, standards and values within European society influences educational systems as well as early childhood education and services. Every day early childhood trainers and educators are confronted with new questions and challenge. How to deal with these different standards and values? How to communicate with the diversity of parents? What do we want for the children? Who decides how to raise the children in the early childhood education?

A group of trainers and researchers, associated in the European network DECET (Diversity in Early Childhood Education and Training), have been working on these questions for two years, sharing their knowledge, resources and experiences. The guide is the result of their combined expertise and insights.


I hope, you will enjoy reading this guide!

Date: 23.07.2013

We are becoming teachers. We feel responsible for everything that happens in our class, in our school. Taking this responsibility means considering and analyzing social behaviours and statements. Concerning this responsibility we chose the theme "Bullying" because it is the main issue that has to be discussed to enable social encouragement between the students and to allow respectful atmosphere.

First we explain a bit more about bullying. What is the definition and what are the reasons for bullying. After that we discuss each country separately and we end with a comparison and conclusion. ...

Date: 23.07.2013

Gender Differences in Educational Outcomes in Europe - a study on the Measures Taken and the Current Situation in Europe.

This study is available in english (Gender Differences in Educational Outcomes, in French (Différences entre les gens en matière de réussite scolaire) and German (Geschlechterunterschiede bei Bildungsresultaten)

Date: 23.07.2013


Literacy ... we will join with our stories about the little captain ... you too?


Europe loves reading

The 'Europe loves reading' campaign is an initiative of Commissioner Androulla Vassiliou, aimed at raising awareness of Europe's literacy crisis and promoting reading for pleasure. She has attended a series of reading sessions across Europe, involving children, adolescents and adults. These events often have a multilingual dimension to encourage children to read aloud in different languages and to highlight the importance of linguistic diversity.


Der kleine Kapitän - Le petit captaine - Küçük kaptan - El pequeño captán - De kleine kapitein - The Little Captain - ...



De kleine kapitein (The Little Captain, 1970) is one of the most appealing children’s stories ever to have been written in Dutch. Rarely has the spirit of a nine-year-old (boy or girl, it doesn’t matter which) been understood so completely and been quite so irresistibly enchanted.

Just imagine it happened to you. You live in a village by the sea and, one day, waves as high as a tower block dump a ship onto the dunes. And from that ship, the Neverleak, crawls a boy who says that he’s the captain. Of course you’re going to help him repair the Neverleak, and wait with him for the huge wave to turn around and get his boat afloat once again.

And then, while all the other children are asleep, that special storm begins to rise. Tubby, Marinka and Timid Tony are the only ones awake and they go with the Little Captain. Far away from school and parents, they have the craziest adventures on the island of Great and Growing, and visit a fire-spitting mountain and a ghost town built on stilts. And Biegel wouldn’t be Biegel if there weren’t a thread running through the story to tie everything together.

However, this colourful, fairytale Odyssey for children was certainly not Biegel’s favourite book. Although it was probably his best-selling title and the one that children most appreciated, later in life he was sometimes rather grouchy about his most adventurous creations, perhaps because they were so much more light-hearted than his more profound masterworks.

He was wrong about this, however, because the masterly style of this book really is a match for his other titles. And De kleine kapitein is also infused with elements that typify Biegel’s work: the desire to go off on an adventure and yet, at the same time, being scared of the idea; the uncomplicated world of boyhood, contrasted with threats from the big outside world; and the fear of becoming an adult, which in his books is always just about, once again, averted.

By Pjotr van Lenteren

Have a look:



De kleine kapitein woonde boven op het duin. Niet in een huis, niet in hut, maar in een boot.
De huilende storm die de golven hoog als torenflats had opgeblazen, had de boot zo uit zee bovenop de top gekwakt. En daar lag hij, muurvast. Wie erin gevaren hadden, wist niemand. Er was alleen een jongetje uit de kajuit te voorschijn gekropen, een klein jongetje met een grote pet op.
“Wie ben jij?” vroegen de mensen van de haven.
“De kapitein,” antwoordde het jongetje.
“Zo, kleine kapitein,” vroeg de grijze schipper van de haven, “waar kom je vandaan?”
“Van mijn boot,” antwoordde de kleine kapitein.
“En waar komt je boot vandaan?”
Maar de kleine kapitein haalde zijn schouders op en klom zijn kajuit weer binnen.
Sindsdien woonde hij daar.
Als de zon scheen, zat hij op het achterdek warm te bakken. Als de maan scheen, zat hij op de voordek en speelde op zijn koperen trompetje.
Beneden in de haven hoorden ze het.
“Je wordt er zo meewarig van,” zeiden de mensen.

The little captain lived on top of the dune. Not in a house, not in a shanty, but in a boat.
The howling storm that had whipped up waves as high as flats had smacked the boat on the top straight out of the sea. And there it lay, rock-solid. Who had skippered it no one knew. Only a boy had crawled out of the cabin, a little boy with a big hat.
“Who are you?” the people of the harbour asked.
“The captain,” the boy answered.
“Well, little captain,” asked the grey skipper from the harbour, “where are you from?”
“From my boat,” answered the little captain.
“And where does your boat come from?”
But the little captain just shrugged and climbed back into his cabin. He lived there since.
When the sun would shine, he was baking in the sun on the bow. When the moon would shine, he’d sit at the stern, playing his cupper trumpet.
Down in the harbour they could hear it.
“You get feeling so soft, listening to it,” the people said.




Date: 23.07.2013
friends ...
for years ... for life ...
... to come together


Moving Around Without losing Your Roots

Moving Around Without Losing Your Roots

by Gianpiero Petriglieri  

Big questions always strike unexpectedly, when our guard is down. I was watching my toddlers splash in the pool last summer when a fellow dad plunged me into revisiting the meaning of home in a globalized world.

He didn't mean to. He just asked where we were from.

"We live in Boston," I started, "but we're from Europe. How about you?"

I learned the name of his hometown, where he owned a business, and prepared myself to tack towards our common ground next — the children's age, the local weather, the economic climate. Not quite yet.

"Where from in Europe?"

Fair enough, it's a diverse continent.

"I am from Italy, my wife is British, and we live in France. We are in the US for a year, for work." This explains why the children speak Italian with me, and a very British English with my wife, while sporting an American accent with their little friends — which is what usually sparks these conversations.

"Did you meet her in France?"

I felt the impulse to lie and get it over with. (Isn't Paris the perfect setting for a blossoming romance?) I let it go.

"We met in Switzerland when I worked there." And there it was, the subtle shift in look. My interlocutor had moved me, in his mental filing cabinet, from a folder labeled 'foreigner' to one marked 'stranger.'

I didn't just hail from a different place. I had a different kind of life.

Those conversations always make me pause. Especially when they involve someone from back home. A relative, a high school classmate who remained anchored there while I moved around. I don't even need to meet them. A Facebook picture of an old friend's kids on the same beaches where we grew up can be enough to spark that vague unease, the feeling that our bond is made of blood and history but no longer of shared habits, context or enterprise. It is in those encounters, where I am not even a foreigner, that I feel most like a stranger — a misfit by choice.

For many years now, I have spent my days in circles where careers and families like mine are the norm. The school where I work, my fourth employer to date, has campuses on three continents. My colleagues hail from 46 countries and have lived, worked and loved in many more — as have my students. Compared with most managers I teach, I have moved infrequently, and not that far.

"These are my people," one told me recently, pointing to her classmates. "I feel more at home with them than I do where I was born." I hear that sentiment often, in those oases and breeding grounds for nomadic professionals that business schools have become. It comes with the realization that for all their transience and diversity, people who find their way there have much in common.

They are as eager to broaden their personal horizons as they are to expand their professional prospects. They do not expect or desire to spend their career in the same organization or country. They enjoy mobility and view it as necessary to gather the experience, ability, connections and credibility that will turn them from nomadic professionals into global leaders.

I think of them as a peculiar tribe. A tribe for people unfit for tribalism.

Their unwillingness or inability to settle — to embrace and be defined by one place only — draws them to each other. It makes them restless and curious. It helps them develop the sensitivity to multiple perspectives and the ability to work across cultures that are indeed hallmarks of global leadership. It also comes with a price.

That price is struggling with the question of home and its troublesome acolytes: identity and belonging.

The struggle is neither an Odyssean longing for the comfortable mooring of a home left behind, nor the pathetic moaning of privileged neurotics who romanticize a simple life that doesn't exist in the real world. It is not just those, at least.

"The trouble with moving around and falling in love with new places," a colleague once shared, "is that you leave a piece of your heart in each of them." That resonated with my experience. In Italy, professionals working abroad are described as "runaway brains." My brain, however, never ran away. My heart just took it elsewhere.

This is why I worry when senior executives tell aspiring leaders that membership in global elites requires sacrificing an existence grounded in one place. Framing the struggle for home as a private reckoning with loss is simplistic and dangerous. It makes global elites more isolated and disconnected, less intelligible and trustworthy. It puts them in no position to lead.

No one wants to follow a stranger. Without some sense of home, nomadic professionals don't become global leaders. They only turn into professional nomads. Leaders need homes to keep their vision, passion and courage alive — and to remain connected both to the people they are meant to serve, and to themselves.

To forego the possibility of feeling at home, or to make do with the surrogate of a dispersed cohort of fellow nomads is to give up the possibility of intimacy, of commitment, of trust. It is all that it takes to give up being human and become "human resources." And once we do that to ourselves, it's a short step to viewing everyone else as such.

Yet home need not always be a place. It can be a territory, a relationship, a craft, a way of expression. Home is an experience of belonging, a feeling of being whole and known, sometimes too close for comfort. It's those attachments that liberate us more than they constrain. As the expression suggests, home is where we are from — the place where we begin to be.

Rather than learning to live away from home or do without one, global leaders must learn to live in and between two homes — a local and a global home. Become familiar with local and global communities, and use neither to escape the other.

This takes physical and emotional presence. It requires staying put long enough and traveling a fair amount. Spending time with those who live nearby and staying close to those who are far away — showing and being shown around. Leaving a piece of heart with people and places, and keeping them in your heart wherever you are.

Hard as it may be to reconcile local and global homes, it is a privilege to have a chance to inhabit both. A privilege that we must extend to others. That is, ultimately, the work of global leaders — connecting those homes within and around them.

We must embrace the struggle to make a home that feels our own. The unease that goes with it is a reminder of how important that work is, and what is at stake. Without a local home we lose our roots, without a global home we lose our reach.

Gianpiero Petriglieri is Associate Professor of Organisational Behaviour at INSEAD, where he directs the Management Acceleration Programme, the school’s flagship executive programme for emerging leaders. You can find him on Twitter @gpetriglieri.


Date: 23.07.2013

In den Bildungseinrichtungen liegt es in der Verantwortung der Pädagogen, den Kindern und Jugendlichen vor allem solche Literatur zugänglich zu machen, die ihnen die Welt eröffnet, die sie mit auf die Reise nimmt, ihre eigene Welt besser zu verstehen und neue Welten kennenzulernen. Gleichsam wichtig ist es, dass die Kinder sich in den Büchern wiederfinden, dass sie ein Abbild ihrer Lebenswelt finden, dass sie ihnen Orientierung und Ausblick bieten. Diesen Anspruch will die Auswahl der Arbeitsstelle Kinderwelten erfüllen.

 Welche Bücher?

Schon Bruno Bettelheim stellte fest, dass es nicht egal sei, welche Bücher Kinder zu lesen bekommen. Bücher mit dürftigen oder belanglosen Inhalten bezeichnet er als „eine Beleidigung für die Intelligenz des Kindes“ (1985, 15). Die Kinder in seiner Untersuchung zählen dazu Bücher, die weder „lebenswahr“ noch von „echter Phantasie“ erfüllt seien. Bücher, die ihnen nichts „Neues“ geben könnten für ihr eigenes Leben und in denen sie sich selbst nicht wieder finden. ...

Erzieherinnen und LehrerInnen zeigen mit ihrer Auswahl an Themen und Büchern, was sie richtig und wichtig finden. Kinder begreifen die damit transportierten Wert- und Normorientierungen ihrer „Autoritäten“ - und arrangieren sich häufig damit, auch wenn sie, wie in Bettelheims Untersuchung, diese Bücher langweilig und nichtssagend finden. Dies ist ein Zusammenhang, dessen sich ErzieherInnen bewusst sein müssen: Ihre Werturteile übermitteln sich Kindern auch indirekt, über die Auswahl von Themen und Materialien und in der Gestaltung der Lernumgebung. Alleine das Vorhandensein oder Nichtvorhandensein ist aussagekräftig für Kinder: Was hier vorkommt, ist wichtig. Fehlt etwas, so heißt das, es ist unwichtig! 

Date: 23.07.2013