The first task is to spiritually prepare to be with children. If one is center stage, judgmental, seeking perfection, needing control, over-powering others, desiring for children to be different, stressing children, stressing colleagues, moving into blame, assigning people as victim/perpetrator roles or otherwise showing up as omnipotent in any way, then one has inner work to do, work Maria called “spiritual preparation.” This work allows us to be the scientist, servant, and saint that Catherine McTamaney elaborates on in The Tao of Montessori, Chapter 38. This is an entire field in itself. To “render our hearts burning with charity” toward every child, Maria’s words, not mine, we have to have the capacity in our hearts, which takes spiritual work.
The second task is to observe. We are trained to put an adult chair or stool in the room, and the only purpose of that spot is for adults to sit and watch. We non-judgmentally take it all in, and learn from the children who they are and what they need. Who are these people? Who is quiet, who is loud, what are they drawn to, how long are people concentrating for, how do they care for the environment, who is sensitive to sensory input, and who is seeking more sensory input, how does that child handle frustration – these are just a few of the things we think about. And we don’t just observe; we write it down. And then, we take the added step of sharing our observations with our colleagues.
The third task is preparing the environment. Based on what you learn about the children through careful observation, what needs to change in the environment, and how best can we meet each child’s needs? We prepare the environment with intention, care, and order. The additions, subtractions, modifications, and experiments continue throughout the school year.
This is a little embarrassing, but I want to share a personal story that demonstrates how omnipotence and not observing carefully can be real problems. It’s the story of Charlie and me in 2008, my first year as a Primary guide.
One day after the work cycle and before we went out to play, Charlie, newly three years old, had an out-of-the-blue epic meltdown for the ages. He screamed, cried, tried to kick me, threw himself on the floor, and neither I nor any of the other teachers could figure it out. After school that day, we got to talking, and one of the teachers observed that every morning, Charlie would put his tennis shoes in a specific spot in the foyer. During the work cycle, I had gone into our cubby area and moved all of the children’s shoes to where I wanted them, into a straight line on a piece of tape. After lunch, when Charlie went to get his shoes before playtime, they weren’t where he had put them. His sensitive period for order was uprooted by my meddling (helping), and he flew into a rage. I moved his things without asking because I needed shoes in a straight line; this was my issue, not his. During his meltdown, he was trying to explain it all to me, and I wasn’t hearing him (taking the time to listen). During the meltdown, our sentiments were, “Charlie is so difficult, he’s always throwing tantrums, he is sensitive, he has trouble handling school, etc.” A truer truth was, Charlie was a highly intelligence three year old with an intense need for order who had a system. He had become an organized, intentional three-year-old. Then, an adult interfered. I had failed to carefully observe, to understand how intense his need for order was, to notice his morning habit with shoes. I caused the whole thing. Then, like a classic hierarchical adult, I labeled him as “difficult” and never considered maybe I was missing something. That was the day it first dawned on me that maybe we adults don’t know everything and should slow down, pay attention, and trust children. Before that, my Montessori training had all been theoretical. A weeping three-year-old gave me one of my biggest life lessons.
“She [the Montessori teacher] must acquire a moral alertness which has not hitherto been demanded by any other system, and this is revealed in her tranquility, patience, charity, and humility. Not words, but virtues, are her main qualifications.”
-Maria Montessori
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