Montessori in a public school: Do we really fit here?

By Nancy Schaitel

Sometimes I think certain stories stay with us because they hold a lesson that we need in order to grow. For me it is this one from Zorba the Greek:

One day I was walking through the woods and happened upon this caterpillar that had spun himself a cocoon. I could see the little creature inside stirring in his first attempts to be free. Fascinated, I plucked the cocoon off its branch and held it in my hand. I warmed it with my body heat, and gently blew on it with my breath. I was, you see, in a hurry to see the creature emerge, stretch its wings, and fly away.

But what happened was an obscenity. Warmed by my body, the caterpillar struggled free from his chrysalis and attempted to stretch his wings. But instead, the little being shuddered, being not yet formed completely, and died in the palm of my hand. That small, fragile life is the greatest weight on my soul.

I’m a teacher with a Montessori diploma and years of experience. Yet the single most serious obstacle in teaching for me is to keep in mind Montessori’s basic tenet that each child develops at his or her own speed should not to interfere with the unfolding of each of them.

In order to do that, I have to keep the pressure of producing results for parents and administrators and district test scores at bay.

In short, I have to be the child’s advocate.

After all, Maria Montessori was quite clear that children must be left free to work. Their work is freely chosen.

We cannot know what they need in order to become an adult unless we understand their inner self.

We can only act as an observer, noting what they choose and what steps in the materials they may need help in.

And, like a good servant, our training enables us to know what work a child is ready for, present it, and then leave the child to explore it, watching from the wings for the “aha” moment when he or she masters the concept it holds.

When I meddle—when I choose what they will work on—the child does not construct him/herself; instead, the inner motivation is absent and in place is a child’s desire to please me by completing the work. (Multiply that by 12 more years of teacher-pleasing school and parent-pleasing, and you get an adult people-pleaser who has no clue as to who he/she is.)

A true Montessori teacher/parent—with or without credentials—is one who is not in a hurry to produce the results everyone is waiting for—like the man who thought he was helping the caterpillar and instead destroyed it. Instead, he/she is one who allows children the room to choose what work they will do and how long they will work on it. Out of that simple yet very courageous faith in the child comes one who is self-motivated, who has learned from mistakes and is in love with learning.

Montessori said, “My vision of the future is one of individuals passing from one stage of independence to a higher level, by means of their own activity, through their own effort of will (not the teacher’s, parents’, principal’s or district’s will), which constitutes the inner evolution of the individual.” (parentheses mine)
With that in mind, I question the value of work plans.

Work plans are work demands. In our district they are introduced third trimester as a way to transition the child from children’s house to the elementary program. They consist of a list of works the child must try to complete within the day or week—however you set them up. The teacher decides what goes on the list. Yet, in my mind, any type of coercion to do something the adult thinks is important conveys to the child that his/her choices are of less importance. Still, I’ve used them. After all, I was told to.

The results weren’t pretty.

As soon as the work plan was completed, the children avoided the math and language and culture areas the rest of the work period and loaded up on the Practical Life materials, snack area, and sensorial materials.

So then I came up with another idea. I explained to the children how I keep records on all the work they do in the classroom and showed them my sheets containing a list of every activity in the room. I told them that this is where I come up with their next activity and write it on their work plan. In an effort to be more Montessori and less teacher-directed, I sat with them after a work plan was completed, showed them what works were next in their development, and they selected the work for their next day’s plan. I seriously thought that would help and thought Montessori would forgive me for past transgressions.

This, however, produced the same results as when I chose the activities. They all breathed a sigh of relief when their work plan was done and went back to picking less-challenging work. I felt like the Wicked Witch of the North, forcing them to finish work they had chosen the day before, which amounted to two works a day, even though there was plenty of time to choose freely afterwards. I was feeling like a traditional teacher in a room with Montessori materials.

And why was I doing this?

To get them ready for E1, I thought, but when I really came to terms with it, it was because I had bought into the district’s belief that my children would not learn to read or do math at the same level as the rest of the children in our district elementary schools. The bottom line would be that I wasn’t a “good” teacher unless I could produce the same results by the same day.

Was I nuts? Was my self-esteem more important than that of the child’s? Did I forget everything from my training? What did Maria tell us? “The teachers, when they begin work in our schools, must have a kind of faith that the child will reveal himself through work …the teacher must believe that this child before her will show his true nature when he finds a piece of work that attracts him.”

I have stumbled. I know better. I’m a better teacher than what I’ve shown myself to be. I allowed myself to be influenced by the district’s expectations of its teachers. This mentality focuses on results, not children.

Parents add to the equation when they start comparing their child’s accomplishments to another’s, usually in one of those waiting-for-my-child-after-school conversations.

What can we do?

There are a number of ways we can fight back.

The public school Montessori teacher must defend the child’s right to grow at his/her own speed, much as the caterpillar must make its metamorphosis when the time is ripe according to nature.

She must be forthright with non-Montessori administrators by relaying the results of counter-productive district demands on the children in a Montessori setting.

Public school Montessori teachers must demand professional growth workshops that correlate with Montessori pedagogy and training, insisting that the district-wide workshops cloud, confuse and often defy Montessori principles.

In addition, public school Montessori teachers must educate administrators and school board members on the science behind the Montessori tenets so they will understand why a Montessori environment is set up and operates differently than a traditional classroom and how their edicts affect Montessori principles.

Furthermore, public school Montessori teachers must create their own support group through regular meetings to discuss district-wide demands and how they translate into the classroom, and articles appearing in the Public School Montessorian and Montessori-related literature that enable us to stay true to and expand on Montessori principles.

Finally, a parent education program should provide, in layman terms, an explanation of Montessori goals and how they are achieved both in the classroom and at home.

As we begin school this fall, let us all keep in mind that the basic aim of the Montessori approach is to help children acquire the confidence and motivation they need to develop to their fullest potential. This is done by providing an environment that makes activities available that support children’s development, building on their interest and nurturing and celebrating their enthusiasm. This emphasis on inner motivation, based on children’s natural curiosity, leads them to delight in discovery.

To be true to Montessori and to our children, what happens in the classroom should be governed not by the desire to make them learn things, but by the endeavor always to keep burning within them the light that is called intelligence. The path for accomplishing this comes from following the child, not pushing him.

Who will do this?

Who will speak up for the children, backed by observations of what is already working in the classroom?

Who will speak up to the administrators and school board members?

Who will become an advocate for children?

If not me, who?

If not you, who?

Nancy Schaitel is a teacher at Lakeview Montessori School in Sparta, WI.