When I received these in the mail today from this lovely place, I cried. If that seems like an extreme reaction to a set of Montessori sandpaper numbers, perhaps I’d better explain.
Almost two decades ago, I was a young wife and mother of a two-year old. I had a very different life then, and was fervently searching for some equilibrium. Because I truly had to work in those days, my son was in a church preschool. He was kicked out for biting. I then enrolled him in a friend of a friend’s home day care. He was kicked out for biting.
I had been hearing bits and pieces about Montessori education through my sister, who had her daughter in a local school and my cousin, an established Montessori guide. In desperation, I called the one very small school in the town where we then lived and set up an appointment to talk to the director. When we met, I was quite forthcoming with her and told her that although I dearly wanted to enroll my son in her lovely school, I feared he would not last more than a couple of days because of his tendency to sink his teeth into human flesh.
Actually, I think what I said was more along the lines of “ireallywantmysontogoherebuthebiteshellllllp!”
I also told her of my growing interest in Montessori education and desire to begin the training to be a guide. We talked for a long time, and she said that she was fairly certain that they could help “cure” Niles of the biting habit, and not to worry. He began the following week and to say that I was amazed at the results really doesn’t touch the experience. She explained that he was biting just because of the physical sensation, and not because he was a terminally bad child. She gave him a clean cloth to carry around with him so that when the urge struck he could bear down on that, rather than another person. He never bit another child. She converted me by her gentle and common sense approach.
Another meeting in the director’s office may have sounded something like this:
ilovethisschoolandmontessoricaniworkhereillwashtoiletsoranythingpleeeaaaaase!”
She told me that she was in fact looking for an assistant, and although the pay was terrible, I would be receiving free tuition for Niles and should I choose to embark on the path of teacher training, it would be paid for as well. I’m pretty sure I cried then too. I’m kind of crier, in case you haven’t noticed.
Being a part of that lovely school community with my son was a life saver. It was a respite from the growing chaos at home, and the teacher training provided me with some valuable parenting and life skills. A new self was emerging which would eventually grow strong enough to make better choices for my family. The peace education philosophy that so permeates Montessori was a necessary contrast and gentle “shock treatment” that would help me see that homes are not meant to be fearful places. ever.
Many things about Montessori appealed to me in the initial stages of my re-learning: the sensorial approach, the lovely practical life activities,respect for nature, the emphasis on building cultural awareness in an authentic way, and the appeal of being able to “see” mathematic equations through gorgeous handmade materials. But it was primarily the compassionate spirit and philosophy that drew me in and has held me all of these years.
English: Montessori Material (golden beads) Français : Matériel Montessori (perles dorées) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
My understanding of the nature of childhood has expanded over the years and I have embraced other truths as well. A good deal from Waldorf philosophy is influencing my thinking and home these days. I am not as well versed in Waldorf, but I am learning and have a deep love and respect for both the educational philosophy and way of life.
But I will never forget that my re-birth into the world of gentle parenting and education came because of the courage and work of an Italian doctor born almost 150 years ago.
Maria Montessori (LOC) (Photo credit: The Library of Congress)
Or the wonderful director of that tiny four classroom school who accepted me and my wayward toothmonger with such grace and generosity. What a gift from God she was to us.
So when I tell people jokingly that I became a Montessorian because my son was a biter, that is only a small fraction of the story. There is a good possibility that my current almost two year old will be home-schooled in the coming years, giving me a chance to “Montessori” in our own home. But whether I am living out the principles learned from those early years in the classroom or at home with my family, it will always be with a heart full of love and immense gratitude.
