My roots. I now work as a special assistant at a Waldorf school and there I met this young boy who’s parents are from an African country. I’m always thinking if he will remember his African roots as he grows older. Or will it fade away because he will spend the biggest part of his life in Sweden? Can he eventually say: I have my roots in two different countries? Or do you have to make a choice? Maybe the presence of our roots is much stronger than we realize and will it eventually make that decision for us?
I always like to think that a person can live many different lives. That we are not bound to just one way of living.
It gives a huge sense of freedom; a person can go many different directions.
And maybe we will end up at the very beginning: our roots.