montessori and the need for activity

Maria Montessori was a scientist interested in psychology and the unfolding of the adult through childhood.  Pedagogy, and mathematics came second.  This is an important point; her primary interest was in the process of learning, not in any one specific area. How did the physical environment as well as the human environment affect education?

When she was given the opportunity to work with children, she soon discovered that their greatest need was for activity.  She first gave the young children materials, sensorial materials, and the language associated with those objects, the red rods, the pink tower, etc…  Ever the scientist, the observer, she noted that they retained very little of the concept, and “met her with blank stares”. (honestly, I’ve had my share of those reactions over the years as well).  So instead, she simply showed the children the activity itself, the sorting, the discrimination of size or shape or color.  And? The children understood!  And Dr. Montessori understood as well.  Create manipulative materials that isolate a concept. Give the child exact instructions on how to use it, and later, but only later, will the child be responsive to language, the word lessons. Pondering upon the phenomenon, Dr. Montessori realized that 3 important things had occurred, always starting with activity: “formation of the subconscious knowledge”, “point of consciousness”, and “indirect preparation”.


The formation of the subconscious knowledge is the accumulation of impressions not consciously registered, but stored in the subconscious- An illustration of this is a person who, having for many years walked through a woods on the way to work, certainly had stored the impression of innumerable leaves. Yet he might have paid no attention to the difference between a lobed and a smooth/even Ieaf, A casual remark from a botanist would bring the difference immediately into focus. Why? because the knowledge was already there subconsciously. But if the Iong experience with leaf-impressions had not been there, would the botanist’s remark have aroused such immediate understanding? Yet something is needed to build a subconscious knowledge into the light of  consciousness’ It may be a spontaneous sudden realization, or a word after years of sub- conscious experience: a point in a Iong line that stretches into miles!

“So”, she reasoned, “this point oI consciousness can come either spontaneously or it may be provoked purposefully or otherwise”‘The indirect preparation was the unconscious or purposeful incorporation in an attractive experience of items which will prepare an ability necessary for a future task.

“Sensitive periods” were her next discovery  During these, at a determinate age, certain activities had an irresistible attraction but left indifferent younger or older children. Though the attraction lasted for a limited period, while it lasted, it made young children very eager to Iearn. This eagerness garnered Dt. Montessori a lot of criticism and misunderstanding on the part of pedagogues and psychologists who accused her of forcing children oI a tender age to do things which older children found difficult and distasteful. The greatest misunderstanding was, and arguably still, is in the field of the acquisition oI mathematical knowledge.

A few of things to keep in mind. Dr. Montessori was not interested in teaching children any particular subject. So she did not specially try to “teach mathematics”. Her interest was in the child itself and the task she imposed on herself was to try to discover the process of the natural development of the child in its various aspects. She prepared an environment which contained objects the use of which caused the children to arrive at an abstraction. The children were of mixed ages, 3 years at least, and the different groups {three to six, six to nine, etc.) were in communicating rooms so that the children could circulate from one to the other. There was no time-table as {ar as subject-teaching was concerned so that children could remain practicing the same subject for an indefinite length of time. This gave them the possibility of storing a subconscious knowledge which culminated into a conscious realization at a certain

Montessori discovered that abstraction was the result of individual experience and the time involved in reaching it vaded with the individuals. Also, the interest in the exercise was determined not by the efforts of the teacher, but by the sensitive period of the child. And finally, the materials she gave the children contained either an indirect preparation for something to come in the future, or the possibility of bringing into the light oF consciousness certain items which the child already possessed in the subconscious.

The basis of mathematics for children is counting.  Associating symbol to quantity. It was logical to conclude that the next step would be to continue with I l, 12, 13 and this D/. Montessori did for many years until one day when by chance children of this age were present at a lesson given to seven year olds with materials which presented in concrete form the working of the decimal system. The seven year olds were luke-warm, but surprisingly the younger ones showed great enthusiasm. In a day or two, they had gained possession of the materials and brought it to their room. This was another example oI the sensitive periods: what Ieft the older children more or less indifferent aroused intense interest in the younger ones.

the happy place

I’ve been spending more time this month in Primary Montessori classrooms, mostly due to circumstance, opportunities consulting at schools, and a change in role here at the Cornerstone School. After completing a Coaching Course (shout out to Elizabeth Slade and Montessori Public in Action) and finding a new teacher to work with the Junior Class on the farm, I’m afforded more time to observe in classrooms. As an Admissions Director, this is a task I should have been doing all along. 

Last week I found myself at a small school in Louisville, Kentucky. Eight children were already engaged in their morning work cycle when I opened the door so very slowly and eased into the nearby wooden observer’s chair. The focus of the group, including the teacher (along with my stealth ninja skills) was strong enough that my entry and presence was undetected. A blonde and braided three-year old was working her way through a basket of small towels, raking them across a washboard with its end in soapy water. She carefully rinsed it in a small tub of water before clasping them onto a clothesline with wooden clothespins. A four-year old worked his way through the knobbed cylinders while two friends on the floor were matching labels to planets on a circular rug. 

Right before my time was up, I watched the girl in practical life carefully tip the waste water into a bucket, and I could practically here her reciting all the steps necessary in her head. It was flawless. The walk to the sink was equally deliberate, methodical, and present. Her steps were measured, her gaze locked onto the water line sometimes coming precariously close to the top of the bucket, but never cresting the edge.  Later, the teacher caught me in the hall and I thanked her for inviting me into her classroom. She leaned in. “I knew the observation was going well because you were smiling almost the whole time.”  “Really”, I responded, “I had no idea. I think Primary classrooms are my happy place.” 

The flight from Louisville back to Boston was routed through Detroit. With a layover there, a late flight to Logan, and then a bus ride to southern Maine, it was three in the morning when head it pillow and my wife Sandi murmured a sleepy acknowledgement. There was a Parent Coffee Chat that morning and I made my drowsy entrance at 8:45. That whole trip log resulted in “note to self” regarding late night travel. In any case, I was also scheduled for an observation in a Primary classroom that morning (I know, right?). Coffee cupped in hand, I settled into a very comfy, perhaps too comfy, observation chair and took in the environment, and took in the immediate deja vu. Had I not been here 24 hours earlier? I soaked in the peace, the gentle voices, the methodical pace. And no more than ten minutes in, a first-year boy, done with his watercoloring of a map of the united states, made his was across the room from a work table to the sink. His steps were measured, his gaze locked onto the waterline sometimes coming precariously close to the top of the bowl, but never cresting the edge. I was flat-out exhausted, not gonna lie. But I think I was probably smiling.

open the door

As the “New Year” quickly approaches, the day after Labor Day for me and for many others, I’ve started to invite prospective parents to come visit, tour, and observe, starting in mid-Ocotober. It’s hard to imagine, by today’s heat and humidity, that by then the leaves here in southern New England will have their autumnal colors, the farm@cornerstone will be well-harvested, and we’ll have had at least one frost. I noted this morning that one eager family has already signed up for the first available day!

Most first impressions of Montessori take place through glass. A parent or student teacher schedules an observation, arrives at the appointed time, receives a badge, a clipboard, and a brief introduction, and then heads down a hallway and stops at the first classroom. Observers have heard of Montessori certainly, from friends or a relative, a magazine article, a blog, a lecture, or a textbook. But to many, that is just like reading the recipe without actually tasting the cake. The observers’ scrawled notes afterward are nearly uniform in content:

“I had the great experience of observing a lesson. The children had to display patience and courtesy. They teach so many things through the course of the day.”

  “Children helping each other with their work. Children do work then pick up and return work once completed. Teachers move around and help children if needed. Self-correcting work.”

  “Older children helping younger ones.” 

  “Children are all very calm and happy. Classroom is very beautiful and bright. Kids are extremely well behaved.”

  “I loved that every child was working on ‘hands-on’ activities.” 

  “I love seeing kids conversing and problem-solving together—not being “shushed.” Great cooperation. Lots of imagination.”

  “Everything with purpose.” 

“Good room flow. Teamwork and pairing. Routine and organized.”

  “Teachers kept voices low. Gentle redirection, very good patience.”

  “So many different activities happening at once. Amid all the activity the kids learn and grow.”

  “The children’s independent play—completing a task and then picking it up and putting it away before starting a new activity. The room felt very quiet, calm (no chaos). The children feel free to move around the room from activity to activity.”

  “Soft voices, individual projects and small groups. Clean and organized space. Teachers guide by example. Bright and open classrooms. Education everywhere and focus on learning.”

  “Beautiful classroom!”

To understand a functioning Montessori environment, one must see it in action, with children interacting with Montessori materials and with each other, with direction from Montessori-trained teachers, in a Montessori “prepared environment.” In this way, we can think of Montessori as being a dynamic process and, in fact, a dynamic process that is greater than the sum of its parts. If your child is in a Montessori classroom, you will eventually be found out at your neighborhood barbecue, your Thanksgiving get-together, your Christmas party, or elsewhere, having been asked something along the lines of, “So, what’s Montessori, anyway?” You will find that it is difficult to describe just one aspect of this pedagogy with any sense of completion. Those beautifully designed manipulative Montessori materials? They are certainly fundamental. The integration and crossover of curricula? Well, sure, they are important, too. The interplay of child, peer, and teacher in a carefully prepared environment? Yes, of course that. The elements of movement, the use of the hand? The nurturing of independence, of self-awareness, of self-control? Yes, yes, and emphatically, yes, they are all essential components! The 3-year age span, the developmentally based presentations, the attention to sensitive periods, the long, uninterrupted work periods? Yes, all of these points contribute to the Montessori pedagogy, but none of these points in isolation will do it justice (we can assume here that the person you’ve been speaking to at the party has, perhaps, regretted broaching the subject). A Montessori education is all of these things, integrated in play, in harmony, in success and failure, in falling down, in learning from the spill and trying again, and in growth, for children, parents, and teachers alike. To understand Montessori, you have to first look through the glass and then step through the door.

the deep roots of montessori

I spent much of my summers, when I’m not with my family, presenting some of the same materials, and working with teachers in different parts of the world.  From public charter schools in South Carolina, to a village in Ghana where pencils are shared, from an orthodox Jewish Montessori school in Chicago to Shanghai

To say that it impresses upon me the universality of Montessori would be an understatement.  And so I’ve spent some time thinking about what it is about this method of education that is so adaptable across time, over a hundred years, and space.  I think part of the answer is that at its core, Montessori is a reflection of humanity’s most essential components.

It is rooted in movement.  We see this clearly in the materials and the nature of the environments.  Ours is a dynamic space.  Movement is engaged, both gross motor, as works are chosen and replaced, and fine motor, exchanging one stamp for ten, one bead for ten, forming quadrilaterals from triangles.  “Children”, Montessori reminds us, “learn through their hands”.   Movement is also rooted in our humanity.  When we need to express our deepest emotions, are words ever adequate?  What conveys comfort better than an embrace?  What communicates affection more clearly than the stroke of a cheek?  We are born to movement.  Our first breath is movement.  Movement makes us human.

It is rooted in imagination.  Our children place a thousand stamp and see, in their mind’s eye, a thousand cube.  A piece of string becomes a line that never ends, moving to infinity in either direction. Globes become worlds. Look around you, for worse but mostly for the better, everything we have created as humans was created through imagination.  Montessori likened us to Robinson Crusoe, wresting material from the Earth to meet our needs, using our greatest tool, our imagination.  It is what moves us forward with hope, envisioning a future better than the present, better than our past.  “If there is to be change in the world”, Montessori reminds us, “it will begin with children.”

It is rooted in love.  There is no greater lesson in a Montessori classroom than the value of compassion.  The care of our environment comes from a love of order.  The care of each other comes from our love of community.  We could even say that the child’s inner drive to refine, to learn, to grow, is derived from love, because isn’t self-respect and esteem a loving and caring process of our future self?  

And we have all chosen to make this our life’s work.  Now think of the circumstances that have led to this moment.  My parents, one from Germany, the other from America, had to meet for me to be born, and their parents and their parents parents and so on, from Ireland, Wales, Scotland, Austria, Germany.   We are all, then at the apex of a great triangle.  The circumstances and events that led to this moment, repeated for all of us, then gives us the idea, not of a triangle, of a great cone, stretching out behind this moment, and focused right here, right now, as you read these words.  If we look ahead, doesn’t the same shape appear to us?  The events in our lives, planned and unplanned, woven with others, expand out away from us as will our descendants.  A cone behind, cone ahead. That’s what makes our work, in each passing moment, so important.

three stories

Three surprises.  three things I had to experience to understand. Because San and I worked with a wonderful midwifery group in South Weymouth, not only was I assisting in the room, I was also able to deliver Amarinda along with our midwife. It was the most profound experience of my life.  I remember thinking, “The universe has now delivered me something, uniquely, that I will value far beyond my own life.  My capacity for love has expanded a thousand-fold. The world now holds something fragile in its hands”. It was exhilarating and terrifying.

When Amee’s age was still measured in weeks, not months, and it was still warm outside to be bare-skinned, we were upstairs on the big bed in Whitman, Massachusetts, snuggling.  I bent over her, and we were nose to nose, staring into each other’s eyes. I snuzzled her and she reached up and put her hands on my face, my mouth, and I had this strong sense of connection on a level that was more just mammal than specifically human.  We could relate to each other on a very visceral level far before we could relate as people.

At some point, the big first date night out as a couple, post-baby swung around.  I think my parents, who lived just a few towns over, came over to babysit, and Sandi and I went out to dinner with plans to go to a movie after. A time to be “just the two of us”, a chance to “just be a couple again”, like that was something to be re-captured.  As if that was a portal you could back through. Halfway through the “date” we realized that the two of us had been a family of two, but now we were a family of three.  Irrevocable.  An overwhelming feeling of not being complete, missing someone who was now on the team, not truly a whole family. 

montessori and haggadah

My introduction to Montessori came decades ago, nearly four of them and counting.  My introduction to Jewish Montessori schools came only in the last, as of this summer, when a small Montessori school in Baltimore asked for assistance in launching an Elementary level. Jewish Montessori schools?  Who knew?  Well, actually, my ignorance belied the number of schools that were thriving, and continue to grow, both in North America and around the world. It made me curious as to the how and why does Montessori integrate so well with the Haggadah, the classic Judaic guide to education.  Disclaimer: I once gave a talk at an AMS conference entitled, “Zen and the Art of Montessori Teaching”.  Prior to, I was dogged by the nightmare of seeing a half-dozen saffron-robed priests in the back, shaking their heads at my misconstruction of basic tenets of Buddhism.  Gratefully they did not materialize.  I say this now, because the image of a dozen rabbis and morahs, reading this and clucking their disapproval has entered my mind!

The Haggadah, literally “telling”, is an annual part of Pesach (Passover), the narrative of  Exodus. It is timeless in that there is no sense of completion, no expectation that once it is learned, the student is done.  Quite the opposite, as the child grows older, they understand more, as they become an adult, they approach the story with new eyes, when they start their own families, and take on new roles, the tale resonates deeper.  In short, the Haggadah is life-long, and Judaism values life-long learners.  As Montessorians we also understand how the pedagogy fosters life-long learners. The importance of a prepared environment as an instrument to foster curiosity, hands-on materials for experiential learning, and the development of intrinsic motivation that comes from long uninterrupted work cycles in multi-age classrooms. These are traits we hope get carried far beyond a graduation ceremony.

Further, the Haggadah, and one could argue much of Judaic studies is based less on the answers the child gives, but more the quality of the questions they ask.  Specifically, there are steps of the Seder that are different during Passover. Why is it different?  Exactly!  That’s the point, to challenge the norm and the expected, to make an impression and elicit questions rather than provide an answer.  If this sounds familiar to us as Montessori educators, we need look no further than our array of impressionistic lessons designed to provide not explanation, but to spark interest. We will even borrow from Socrates (more on him later), when we say that in Montessori education it is the lighting of a flame, not the filling of a vessel.

Aside from specific questions asked at this holiday, there are also identified four types of questions, and in some writings, four types of children that ask them. One child asks a question that reveals their understanding while another asks a question without regard to the answer. In both cases, we have an engaged child. A third child cannot phrase their question; we can’t discuss it, because they can’t articulate it.  A fourth child asks no questions and has no interest. Think back to the last lesson you gave, whether it was geometry, language, or division of fractions. Did you have all four of these children around the rug?  I feel like all I ever had were some combinations of that engagement over the years! It led to some lively discussions and should remind us that without questions to precede (and proceed), our students are not ready to learn.

As Montessorians, we use the term Socratic Method, to describe our lessons.  We move our presentations along by asking questions.  In fact, I often encourage my adult learners to see if they can give a lesson using only interrogative sentences (and their hands behind their back), or at least have the idea in mind as a discipline.  In reality however, it’s not the teacher giving the question that should take precedence. Why? Because we know that if we give information, especially in a review,  “Remember this is an adjective”, we can’t be confident that this is a piece of information the  children knew (any self-respecting Elementary child will confidently nod their head regardless).  We might perhaps ask, “What is this?” in classic Three-Period Lesson style.  But let’s look a bit deeper. Really, if we ask a question and the child answers (THAT kid, most likely), what have we learned? Perhaps a more insightful method would be one that asks not for an answer, but for their questions.  Could we garner engagement like, “Why is that an adjective?” or “Why are there only seven possible triangles in the universe?”  “Why are all these civilizations by rivers”?  And if we did, isn’t that a better gauge of a child’s development?

the three-period lesson

The term “three-period lesson” can refer to two aspects of Montessori pedagogy. Directly, it refers to the basic structure of a Montessori lesson, with each period corresponding to a section of the presentation. In short, the three periods are often illustrated as follows: “This is…” (first period), “Show me…” (second period), and “What is…?” (third period). A Lower Elementary teacher, for example, in giving a lesson on types of triangles, may present three different wooden triangles: a scalene, an isosceles, and an equilateral triangle. The first period of the lesson would consist of the giving of information and nomenclature. “This is a scalene triangle. All of its sides are of different lengths. This is an isosceles triangle. Two of its sides are the same, and one is different. This is an equilateral triangle; all of its sides are equal.” The second period gives the child a reference point. “Show me the equilateral triangle. Show me the scalene triangle. Show me the triangle with three different sides. Show me the triangle whose name means ‘same sides.’” The third period of the lesson removes that reference. “What is this? Which is this one?” 

We can take the concept of the three-period lesson a bit further. We can identify experiences and activities that are giving information as the first period, activities that allow the children to work with the concept as the second period, and the presentation of work as the third period. In traditional classrooms, emphasis is placed on the first and third periods. “Here are the names and dates. In two weeks you will have a test and be asked to give back these names and dates.” Seen in this expanded view, we can see that the vast majority of work in a Montessori classroom is much more meaningful second-period work, such as the activities of children working with the materials, finding similar concepts in the environment, making small booklets, creating timelines, or determining the areas of rugs in the classroom. The child ultimately arrives at “third-period” comprehension, but it is a more profound, internalized understanding.

born at the right time

As we spend time immersed in Montessori environments, as educators, administrators, teacher-educators, as parents and as children, we find the experienced steeped in cycles. The year and its children, families, and colleagues turn and return and turn again and for some the years unfurl to a decade and then decades. Our own children become adults, become parents of new children, and then, and now the wheel seems quite grander in scale of time and of magnitude.

Lyra is fussing. We’ve given Amarinda and Brendan the gift of a night out, absolutely leaping at the opportunity to care for this beautiful four month-old baby, born half that age early. The repertoire of practiced techniques is not cutting it tonight; the usual checklist of diaper, hungry, entertainment has been loudly ignored by an increasingly agitated and unhappy child. In the space afforded between decibels, I wonder if there is a genetic factor to quiet and comfort and soothe. If Rhythm of the Saints worked for Amee…. did she pass that on to Lyra like so many anti-bodies? Luckily there’s no fumbling through CD’s, we’re a mere “Hey Google” away from Paul Simon and then I’ve got Lyra cradled and the volume is up and those first beats of the dundun drum and the dance begins, and whether it’s surprise or curiosity, Lyra lets one last sob shudder and begins to just listen and feel. It’s probably untrue, but I think that it is perhaps 31 years since I last listened to this album, when I was 31 and Amee an infant child, but the years peel away as the lyrics start and they pour out of me nearly unbidden, but apparently not forgotten. (But among the reeds and rushes, A baby girl was found). Lyra is no match for the not-too-gentle rocking and dancing. Like her mother before her, by the time Obvious Child is in its last verse, she’s already droopy-eyed as Sonny takes down his high-school yearbook. (Her eyes as clear as centuries, Her silky hair was brown). When The Coast kicks in, she’s starting to breathe deeper and deeper, as sleepy as that harbor church of St. Cecelia. (Never been lonely, Never been lied to, Never had to scuffle in fear, Nothing denied to) And when we’ve reached Born at the Right Time? Well, you know Lyra’s been asleep for at least three tracks. (Born at the instant, The church bells chime.). But me? I’m still dancing (And the whole world whispering). I’m still singing (Born at the right time), I’m so gone, man, so in love with all of it.

going out

“Let us take the child out to show him real things instead of making objects which represent ideas and closing them in cupboards.”  Maria Montessori (1948).

Dr. Maria Montessori believed strongly that elementary-aged students were suited to learn from outside experiences and that the classroom did not only have to be inside four walls.  By linking the upper elementary classroom to the world beyond its walls children are provided with the opportunity to mesh concepts into real life.  Learning to operate in the real world is an explicit goal of Montessori.  “Going out” is the term Montessori used to describe leaving the classroom for hands on experiences in the real world.  Going out relates to the “acquisition of culture”.  Montessori believed that the elementary-aged child was especially developmentally  suited to learn from activities outside the school building, in the thick of the society, the culture, and the natural world.

Sometimes children learn information and procedures in school but cannot see how they are relevant or can be applied outside of the school context.  Going out allows learning to be directly connected to the context from which it arises and finding real life applications.  The classroom environment is perfect for introducing students to concepts and ideas for students to then initiate their own projects and research based on his/her interest.  Bringing in living creatures to study and take care of in the classroom environment, builds an appreciation for living creatures.  Using real maps for a geography study of a child’s town or city or country provides the opportunity to work with items used in real life.  Learning to follow written directions, finding your way around a new town, and reading a map are all skills that can be utilized outside of the school environment.  A going out experience to find a location, predetermined and studied on a map, links the classroom to the world beyond.

Leaving the present moment for a different time opens up the imagination.  Through the study of history and cultures, students are able to use their imagination to transfer back to another time period. Historical studies can be linked to a field trip to a site or location that was studied.  A while back, a group of students at the Cornerstone school were interested in Vikings.  After 7 -8 months of work, they planned a trip up to Newfoundland, the location of where the Vikings first landed.  The trip was guided by an adult but the planning and administration of the trip was carried out by the students.  Although the classroom part was memorable, there is no comparison to actually going to see the site of the Viking landing.  

In geometry, learning about the Pythagorean theorem by using hands- on materials, and then going out to plot out a garden, is a direct link from inside the classroom to a useful project outside on the school grounds.  In math, a study on percentage can lead to a field trip to a store that is having a sale and figuring out what savings is offered.  A trip to a Spanish restaurant to practice ordering in Spanish allows that knowledge to be used as well as having students figure out the percent tip to be left for the waiter.

A bake sale for a fundraiser can provide all different kinds of skills to be utilized both in and out of the classroom.  A shopping list must be formulated and the shopping done.  While at the store, the students can shop for bargains on products they need. Grace and courtesy in the classroom hopefully will be transferred to the outside setting as children interact with the public.

The kingdoms of life are another unit of study that can then be transferred to the outside world.  Collecting pond water and using a microscope to see the protista, collecting fungi and classifying them, studying plant life with an expert in the field, growing seedlings inside and transferring them to a garden are all good links between the two environments.

Children in both Lower and Upper Elementary take class trips during the school year to educational sites as extensions of their learning experiences in the classrooms and to foster community building. 

Going out is driven by the child’s personal interests and goals as they become more independent.

Planning a going out experience should be child led, including figuring out where to go, how to make practical arrangements, what to bring, how to learn from the experience, what interview questions to ask, and how to call and make reservations.  These are small group “field trips.”  Going-out guides the children in developing life skills that facilitate transition into the world as young adults. The children involved organize the event from start to completion. They use the resources of the community in preparation for the going-out experience. They initiate the research, make the needed phone calls, set appointments if necessary, obtain and arrange drivers, and complete the appropriate paper work (forms, permission slips, etc.) This trip into the community can provide the information they need to complete a research project or provide the real life experience that truly demonstrates life skills. Upon returning from the trip, they can present their experience and findings to the class.

The Upper Elementary classroom has no walls.  Each and every subject matter can be linked to the real world.  The world is open for exploration. With freedom to travel down any road the child decides to take, the experience will be his to explore and create through books, travel and hands-on learning.  Through self-created projects, learning in context is so important for children.  So much more knowledge is acquired when the subject matter is self-directed.  Montessori believed in the acquisition of culture, and what better way to receive that culture then by seeing and experiencing all that is out there.

it’s not just the beads

There’s an expression I use in reflecting about teacher education, and how adult learners engage with Montessori – “where do the beads go?”.  For me, it indicates a level of concern that new teachers have with the didactics of teaching, how the manipulative materials “work”, the what-goes-where-how-do-I slide-flip-turn this bead bar, this grammar symbol, this circle inset, etc….  It’s important work for sure, and I would never diminish the drive and intention for new teachers to gain a facility and then confidence with the materials, especially those that dominate the Elementary Montessori classroom, 6 -12.  

And yet, in my over 30 years of teacher-education (yes, I am THAT old), I’ve found that the truly gifted teachers must also have another quality. An understanding of the greater context, the greater tapestry upon which the curriculum and concepts are woven.  This is much more difficult (I would hazard the word, “impossible”) to teach an adult learner.  Also in my experience, it’s revealed fairly quickly, in a presentation, in observing the teacher practicing with fellow students, the language they use, the questions they ask, in observing them in a classroom with children, the language they choose, the respect they give, naturally, to their children. There’s a sense of humor, there’s a healthy dose (just a soupcon) of well-intentioned self-deprecation, and a strong sense of taking the work very seriously but themselves, not so much.