Let’s keep singing about potatoes!
Non-judgmental listening on the tip of the iceberg of ignorance furthers

In the beginning, Heinz was always quiet. Heinz was an autistic youngster. It was assumed that he could not communicate with others at all. This changed when his teacher Renate brought a piano. She had noticed the way his eyes lit up when he listened to classical music, and through his eyes, she perceived his underlying intelligence.
And rightly so! As it turned out, Heinz had savant syndrome and could play anything on the piano that he had heard just once. From that day on, Heinz had found a way to communicate with others through playing the piano. Renate was overwhelmed with joy. She was the teacher of a group of children with special needs and one of my heroes in our provocative pedagogy course - "Learning Learning by Teaching Teaching" - Because the children in the class agreed, after some time, Renate was even able to convince the school administration to let Heinz participate in regular classes. From then on, Heinz played Mozart, Beethoven, and Bach every day as a soundtrack to Renate's lessons.
It was at the end of our seminar when Renate enthusiastically wanted to tell me about Heinz and his development. The others had already left, but Renate was literally dancing up and down in front of me with joy! "Do you remember the research experiment of non-judgmental listening, where we first explored the sound of a dying neon tube to learn how we create our universe by listening and sounding?" - "The Nada Brahma, the world as a sound experiment?" I inquired. "Yes, exactly, where we explored space and communicated with each other through tones and hums! What did you call that again?" Renate wanted to know. "Our 'sound meditation on the tip of the iceberg of ignorance,' you mean?" I asked back, barely hiding my curiosity. "Yes, exactly, where we listen and make sounds without judgment! I tried it, and it worked! When I returned to work, everyone thought I had gone insane because suddenly I was singing and humming all the time. But I noticed a change in Heinz's piano playing when he heard me humming and singing. Normally, I would have stopped immediately. I was ashamed of my low singing voice, but I gathered all my courage and remembered: 'We do not know what the other perceives. We can only invite them to listen to us.' So, like a Valkyrie, I sang the song of the dog and the egg. Heinz immediately stopped playing the piano. He put his finger to his lips, and then he opened and closed his mouth and pointed to his ear. He listened! I continued to sing enthusiastically even though people were already gathering outside the open classroom. Some laughed, some shook their heads, another said: 'Now she has finally gone insane!' The next day, however, his mother called me full of amazement and enthusiasm. Heinz had spoken! In the morning, he had excitedly told her about a dog and asked her for a breakfast egg. She kept asking me: 'What have you done? How did you transform Heinz?' I learned it from a science experiment at university from my professor! It's a dance - it's too complicated to explain over the phone!' I replied, smirking. It started with listening to a dying neon tube. But I didn't give this away!" - "Yes, congratulations on your courage and ingenuity! It's amazing! I can't wait to see what happens next!" I said. "Sachunterricht!" replied Renate promptly then continued in a chant. "I'll keep singing about potatoes, about Romans in Vienna, about fruit fly experiments I will sing!"
Renate sang- "Keep singing, dear Renate, dear Renate! Let’s keep singing about potatoes, that's good!" I sang back to her in response.


Long and loud, we laughed. Renate's voice was really bombastic. A crazy professor and his crazy student were singing about potatoes on the tip of the iceberg of ignorance! I think back fondly on these little miracles of provocative pedagogy. Speaking and making music instead of lifelong silence. We are the tip of the iceberg of ignorance. Our consciousness controls incomprehensible complexities. Explanations we come up with after the fact act like pacifiers we can suck on to distract us from the fact that what sustains our lives is unanalyzable to our consciousness. Renate was able to direct her attention from the pacifier to the world through our dance, which made her encounter with Heinz possible. This is the real miracle. Through this miracle of encounter, we transform, realize, and recognize ourselves through the other.