Thursday, January 27, 2011

Mommy's Montessori day in


Yesterday morning I erased the clutter from my calendar--my calendar can be much like my kitchen counter, stacked with small random stuff that seems too important to trash but really just makes life more complicated than it has to be--and spent three hours quietly observing Mary's class.

Last fall, after Mary had started school, I read several books on the Montessori method (the best of which was this, the worst of which was this, and the medium of which was this). I realize most people research first, then decide. But we decided to enroll Mary based on a gut feeling. Then I spent October catching my mind up with my gut. This meant I also spent the fall laying awake at night thinking about the history of the modern educational system. I also spent a lot of time interrupting Greg's talk of Markov chains to explain "the absorbent mind." (Stochastic modeling and Montessori: we had some really romantic evenings, let me tell you, trying to bore the beans out of each other. Anyone care to join us on a double date?)

After all of the reading and talking to my dear, sweet audience of one, I was anxious to observe for myself an entire three-hour work period in Mary's class. Three months later, I finally got around to making the time (which clearly makes this more important than the dentist...but less important than Costco...what does that say about me?).

This post would be much better couched in an introductory explanation of the Montessori method. But I want to write my observations down as soon as possible--so you're getting them without the context. My apologies. So, without further ado, here are some thoughts I had as I sat on a tiny chair in Mary's classroom.

  1. The children are polite, helpful, and kind. One girl quickly popped out of her chair and offered to tie Mary's apron for her. They are comfortable asking one another for help, and they naturally give it. I frequently heard "Excuse me," "Please," and "Thank you." The older children, who are kindergarten age, watched out for the younger ones, but also treated them with respect and equality. Rambunctious behavior was minimal.
  2. At any given moment, there were a handful of children in deep concentration, a handful of children working on a lesson but not necessarily in deep concentration, a handful of children busy with tasks like preparing a snack or washing dishes, a handful of children purposefully transitioning from one activity to another, a handful of children watching or helping other children, and a handful of children wandering aimlessly. There was also always Mr. Grumps. More about him later.
  3. The responsibility of choice can be a difficult burden to bear. The children are free to choose their own activities. I didn't appreciate before how much initiative and self-motivation this requires. Sometimes it was almost painful to watch a child try to decide what to do next. They can seem so vulnerable in that moment, seemingly without inner direction, so lost, even forlorn. I wanted badly to swoop in and provide some nice, safe, steadying outer direction: "Oh, sweet child, come here and play the bells. Or might I suggest something from the geometry cabinet?" It was painful like how it's painful to listen to a child sound out a new word. You want to take away the struggle and just say the word--but then you steal the opportunity for growth. And the satisfaction of successfully reading the word. There truly seemed to be something deeply satisfying for the children when they are able to choose, retrieve, complete, and put away a lesson, all on their own. Choosing was harder than being told exactly what to do, but valuable: Right before my very eyes I could see kids developing independence, initiative, and responsibility. (By the way, plenty of children received direction or redirection from the teacher throughout the morning, as needed. Also, their choices always have certain boundaries, of course.)
  4. Some kids are just going to be more successful at school than others, no matter what educational philosophy their schooling follows.
  5. I'm not completely "sold" on the large class size. An ideal Children's House (ages 3-6) classroom should be 35 (!) with one lead teacher and one assistant. Mary's class has 28, and there were 24 kids present yesterday. A large class size allows for a good mix of all the ages, it provides increased stimulation and opportunities for socialization, and the large class size encourages (forces?) the children to learn both independence (see #3) and cooperation (see #1). The class kind of reminded me of what it might be like to grow up in a really big family. Your mom isn't always hovering above you, telling you what to do every single second and wiping your nose for you. You have to wipe your own nose. Or perhaps another kid will see your boogars and give you a tissue. And you have to use your own initiative and brain power to fill your time. I couldn't help but think that those children in Mary's class were experiencing something most middle-upper class American children their age never experience: They didn't have an adult helicoptering around them. So I could see the benefit of the large class size. But.....I guess part of me still wants each child to have his or her own personal adult nose wiper. Oh Maria, it may be blasphemy, but I'm hanging on to the thought that a Children's House room should a population no larger than 24.
  6. It's such an efficient system. Sure, at any given time there are children wandering about aimlessly. I'll be honest--you can glance into the room and it may look like there is a lot of time wasting going on. But what is amazing is that each child is progressing at his or her level--so time is actually used more efficiently. No child who is not ready to read sits lost in a reading lesson; no child who is reading chapter books sits bored in a lesson on short /a/. The Montessori materials, the classroom environment, the mixed ages, and, yes, the large class size, allow each child to progress at his or her pace. I always, always thought that the only way to get closer to the ideal of each student progressing exactly at his or her own pace was to get as close as possible to a 1:1 teacher-student ratio. (When I taught at the Sylvan Learning Center, the ratio was 1:3--and it was still seriously lacking.) Who knew, that under the right circumstances and with the right materials, the exact opposite could be true.
  7. There was no division between girls and boys. I've noticed this about Mary's class many times before, and it is amazing to me. (Because I think the friendships in David's class divided down girl-boy lines within the first twenty seconds of the school year.) The boys and girls interact together without regard to gender. I don't know if it's the dynamic of these particular kids, their home environments, the Montessori method, the teacher, or what. But I think it's great.
  8. Group time. For the last twenty minutes, the class meets together for songs and additional instruction. This did not go perfectly, but it went very very well. (When it was time, the teacher turned on some quiet, graceful music, and they children all migrated to the circle marked on the floor, where they walked gracefully and carefully on the circle until all of the children had joined them. It was magical! And I liked how they were walking in a line where no one was first and no one was last.)
  9. Mr. Grumps. I loved Mr Grumps. This four-year-old boy did nothing the whole time. NOTHING. I think that in and of itself is a great feat. With all of those wonderful, inviting materials around, and he did nothing for three hours? Amazing powers of persistence! What determination! He spent a good deal of the time sitting on a chair muttering about how much he hates school. Mr. Grumps was a nice reality check. Even in the sometimes-proclaimed utopia of the Montessori classroom, you get a stinker or two. In Mr. Grumps's defense, he was having a bad day. We all do. Even at Montessori school.
It would be nice to round off the list with a number 10. But I'm ending it with my good pal Mr. Grumps. I might not be as grumpy as say, Mr. Grumps, but I do tend to be very cynical. So my verdict is still out on Montessori--but there is a part of me that is completely won over and so wants to embrace it with my whole heart and being. We'll see. In the meantime, I look forward to seeing Mr. Grumps again, giving him a hug, and wiping his nose.

By the way, this was my Montessori day in. You can see pictures of Mary's Montessori night out here. And this website gives you some nice information about Montessori schools.