I Take a Mini Field Trip to Visit Some Elementary Students

This past week has been a busy week, and since my last post, I've learned and observed more than I have room or time to convey. I look back on my notes, which are filled with priceless quotes that still make me smile; the progress and activities of various children; answers to questions I have asked the teachers at Montessori; and things I have learned just through conversation. Beaucoup, beaucoup d'information! 

I begin with a quote from a child at the Montessori school, who had just finished painting his masterpiece. I asked him if he could tell me about what was in his picture, at which he replied, "They live near the savannah rainforest in Africa." I don't know if anyone else understands or appreciates the humor in this statement like I do, but if you did get a kick out of it, do me a favor and let me know. 

ANYWAYS, this week I had the opportunity to meet and talk with the Montessori school's curriculum coordinator, who kindly and patiently took the time to answer all my questions and provide me with lots of interesting information; for example, how the attendance of children and the participation of parents have changed since the seventies and have been a factor influencing curriculum design. I also learned how testing works at the school, which is a charter school in this case. All students are required to take the standardized tests required by the state, in addition to the Albanese (pronounced Alban-eezy)test, which serves as a benchmark test for math and writing, taken at the beginning and end of the year. The general thinking behind test-taking is that while it is practical skill that needs to be learned considering the modern emphasis on testing, tests cannot always accurately demonstrate how much a child knows or understands a certain topic or subject. In some research studies I have been reading, an interesting point is made: sometimes Montessori students score lower on mathematics on standardized test than students in traditional schools, because the Montessori method focuses more on helping students to gain a "concrete and sensorial aspect to math at a critical period in the learner's life" (Manner 18). 

I also had the chance to observe the lower elementary grades at the school. The classrooms are multi-aged at the elementary level as they are at the primary level, so first through third graders work together in the same class. They do different level work, of course, but they learn and work together. As soon as I walked in the class, all heads turned and the children looked at me with eyes full of curiosity. One third grade girl, whose brother I have actually been observing at the primary level, enthusiastically took it upon herself to answer any questions I had related to the classroom or student's work, as well as show me and explain her work as she did it. I had asked to observe an elementary class because I was curious as to how Montessori played out in the higher grades, and what I saw was how the children are responsible for tracking all their work . Each child has a binder in which they keep some of their work as well as work logs and assignments. The students are responsible for managing their own time throughout the week; they have all week to finish a given list of works, but it is up to them to decide when to do it during independent work time. 

The room was structured in a similar fashion to the primary classroom, with more materials dedicated to mathematics, reading and language. To be honest though, there was such diversity of materials, ranging from zoology, botany, to geography and practical life, that I wanted to do join them during work time! I sat next to the girl who had adopted me (in a sense) as she did her work on a mat on the floor; she had to identify the parts of a leaf using pictures, name labels, and cards with a short paragraph describing the part of the leaf. She laid out the cards neatly and gently, in some instances making the best educated guess she could having never completed this work before. How happy she was when she looked at the answer key afterwards to see that she had labeled all the parts correctly! 

At one point I asked her if she liked the fact that the classrooms were mixed age and whether or not she ever helped the younger students. "Yeah, we are supposed to be like role models and stuff," she said clearly and matter-of-factly; it was obvious in the way she said this that she had embraced the role of "role-model." 

Another, younger girl I spoke with had something to say about tests--something which took me aback. She was telling me about how second graders didn't have to take a certain test like the first and third graders had to take, and she was actually disappointed, being a second grader, that she wouldn't get to take said test. "I love tests!...it's a Montessori thing." 

During independent work time, which lasts around two hours or so, the room was filled with a productive hum with the only noise being a movement of a page, writing, or whispering. All the students were very focused as they worked busily away. I am in love with the idea that students have the freedom and are encourage to study what interests them. They have certain works and requirements of study that they have to complete and meet, of course, but they have the time and opportunity to spend time studying those things that genuinely fascinate them. How many times did I have to push aside my own interests because I was forced to prioritize a test? This is one of the many reasons I am so ready for college...

Now for a bit of humor:
What is one of the fastest ways to get a universal, emphatic "Ew!" from a classroom of elementary students? 
Answer: the definition of the word "smitten." :P 



Manner, Jane Carol. "Montessori vs. Traditional Education in the Public Sector: Seeking Appropriate        Comparisons of Academic Achievement." The Forum on Public Policy (2006): 18. East Carolina        University. Web. 1 April, 2015. 

Who Knew "Play" Could Be So Deep?

    Wednesday was a special day for me. Why? Because I got to help an eight year old boy build an epic roller-coaster at the Children's Museum. By epic, I don't necessarily mean that the structure was fully functional as far as being able to put a ball in one end and it successfully coming out the other end, but the structure itself was indeed, EPIC. Just see for yourself!

 Here you can see the whole structure, including the big blocks we used to elevate the tubes near the back. When I said it wasn't fully functional, the ball inevitably wound up stuck in the tubes near the boy's feet; despite the sharp incline at the beginning of the coaster, it just didn't have enough speed to make it all the way back up the hill near the end. 

 Can I just say how great it felt

to have been given the privilege

of helping him construct this? Just sayin', I felt pretty special over the fact that he let me be a part of his grand project. 
    At first he wanted to make the track go full circle like a loop, but I think it eventually dawned on him that that wouldn't work; Darn physics. 

    Overall, he was a quiet worker, able to articulate which tubes he wanted to go where and able to identify which materials (poles) he should use. Also, he was quite resourceful, using large blocks and a plastic bin as supports for some of the tubes.  

    We worked off of his vision; I offered suggestions for where clamps should serve as supports, but I let him decide where he wanted the coaster to twist and turn. He was focused, and was visibly upset when other children came into the area; it seemed as though he felt threatened that they would ruin or impede his project. He was quick to ask them if they wanted to help him, however, and seemed genuinely disappointed when they chose to run off to some other exhibit. 

    As far as my role in this hour-long (or so) project, I served as a pair of helping hands, asking him questions to understand his thought process and prompt him to communicate his vision. I tried to make my help minimal--in the sense that I did not impose my own ideas about where we should put a tube or insist upon fastening a clamp when he could have easily done it; and even when he began to do things that I knew wouldn't work, I wanted him to experience trial and error on his own and see if he could problem-solve. He exemplified resourcefulness by using blocks from another exhibit and a plastic bin (where all the tubes are kept); however, he never quite understood the fact that the ball wasn't gaining enough speed to go back up the incline near the end of the coaster. Still, I didn't want to take over his project; it might have looked like our project, but I did my level-best to keep it as his project. This is the approach I have when interacting with any kid at the museum, and I've noticed how I feel a pride in children when I see them try, succeed, and even fail, since I can't take any real credit. I get to not only watch them learn, but be involved in the learning-process. How cool is that!

    By the time we finished, this roller-coaster was worthy of a double high-five! 

    To the casual bystander, this exhibit at the museum involves: building--plain and simple. After working at this specific exhibit, with more than a few children at this point, I realize that this exhibit gives children an opportunity to develop their gross and fine motor skills, problem-solving and critical thinking skills. The children have to take outside experiences and knowledge related to speed, gravity, and general physics, and apply it to what they're building. Also, they have to have patience with themselves and eventually come to grips with the fact that they only have two hands to work with and need to do one thing at a time. It's also a great creative outlet. 

Who knew child's play could be so deep? 

Here are some lovely photos of the Children's Museum! The first photo is of the roller-coaster exhibit I was referring to in my last post. 

Cooperation, Persistence, Focus, and Glitter Tattoos

     Quote of the day (or rather, last Friday): "I'm going to have a ducky taco, because I'm a duck" -- such a perfect combination of logic and imagination. Also! Just in case anyone else was under the impression that no one knows what a kestrel is, one boy at the Montessori school introduced his class to kestrels, because kestrels begins with a "k" sound, which was the sound of the week. I definitely wasn't expecting any five year-old to bring up kestrels. 

     It wasn't even a week ago that I typed up my last post, but I feel that Friday's events at both the school and the museum were too marked to not share. I was both impressed and fascinated by the exemplifications of independence, cooperation, responsibility, persistence, and focus by the children; as well as the acute difference in intellectual capabilities among children of the same age and among those who are only a couple years apart. To keep things organized, I'll delineate my observations by categorizing them into character values:

Cooperation & Guidance: 
Montessori School - a girl, about 3 years old, undertakes a puzzle and after trying to piece it together on her own, seeks help from the teacher's assistant. The assistant suggests to a kindergarten girl to help the younger girl with her work, so she quietly gets up, leaving her own work on the table, to help her young friend. She encourages her, giving her hints as to what the pieces have to look like; though it is difficult to help someone with a puzzle without actually doing it yourself, so the kindergarten girl was responsible for completing the majority of the puzzle. Nevertheless, the older encouraged and patiently helped the younger until it was completed, both girls completely focused on the work. In about ten minutes they had finished and the work ended with a "ta-da!" Walking back over to her own work, the kinder asked the younger girl, "Would you like to work next to me?" "Sure!" the younger girl said, bringing her tray of play-dough. As time goes on, the kinder gently reminds the younger to keep quiet as they do their individual works, so they will not have to be separated. The teacher's assistant overhears and encourages the younger girl to listen to her friend and heed her advice. This was a great example of how advantageous it is to have a mixed-age classroom--the younger children learn from the older children, and the kindergarteners develop responsibility and an awareness that they are setting an example. 

Responsibility:
"--, you need to come push in your chair."
 "That wasn't her chair; it was mine," she says as she leaves her snack to go push in the chair that she had been working in earlier. 

Self-Confidence:
Montessori School - She carefully lays out a mat on the floor, brings her work, and sits down. She ties a blindfold around her eyes and begins the challenge of matching different materials (glass, metal, stone, and carpet) based on her sense of touch. Finishing quickly with success, she puts that work back on the shelf where she found it and grabs the one to the right of it. The works are arranged in increasing order of difficulty from left to right. This time she matches pieces of fabric--still blindfolded. Again finishing with success, she moves on to the final work of matching ten various materials kept in small cups. After her best attempt, she takes off her blind fold and begins correcting her own mistakes. After all this work, she smiles to herself and tell the teacher what she did, proud of her accomplishment; the teacher makes note of her work. 

Persistence, Cooperation, & Pacing: 
Montessori School - Two boys (5-6 years old) work together to add four-digit numbers using wooden blocks which represent 1000s, 100s, 10s, and units. They quietly work together, side by side, waiting for each other to complete the steps of setting up the problem on their paper and correcting each other's work when they notice a mistake. They go to the shelf, working together to count out how many blocks they need to construct the four-digit number. They do not work quickly, but they are focused. After finishing their first problem, they file their worksheets in a bin and go to clean up their work, but the teacher's assistant asks them to do one more problem. Obediently, the boys get their work materials back out and sit on the mat. They decide, before beginning, to eat their snack together, which takes them about ten or so minutes. When they return, they are just as focused as before and with a little help from the teacher to remind them how to "exchange" when adding, they finish their work right in time for lunch. This whole work took around 30 minutes. Like I said, they did not work quickly, but they were focused and worked until they had completely finished. 

Independence: 
Children's Museum - during the Wee Wiggle class, which involves filling a room with toys and activities that get kids from 1 to 5 up and moving, I set up "river blocks," which are designed for kids to make a path out of by connecting them together and then walk on them to practice balancing. While one four-year old girl there wouldn't even try to walk on the blocks on her own, even after making a considerably long path, completely depending on her dad to hold her hand, another boy who was five-years old, had quite the different approach. He basically ran on the blocks, jumping across them and even straddling his legs at one point when the path had a break. The difference in the level of independence was shocking. Several times throughout the class, the father of the little girl had to tell her to try on her own things that she easily could do without his help. To be fair, one year can make a big difference, and I have no idea what kind of background these children have that influenced their character; regardless, this comes to show just how careful parents have to be when playing with their children by finding the balance between helping their child and letting their child be independent. 

     On another note, I witnessed a little boy, probably about one and a half years old, who made his way over to the "river blocks." With a pacifier still in his mouth, he began to walk on the blocks and balance (with more success than the four year-old girl). Then, to my dismay, his mother distracted him and lured him away from this coordination-developing activity by throwing a light scarf on his head. The boy looked confused at first and then just as delighted as his mom. To be honest, it upset me a little, after having been in a Montessori setting where focus is sacred, to see this little boy distracted from what he had originally set out to do. I knew this was an activity he genuinely wanted to do, because after five minutes, he returned to the blocks on his own. I guess Montessori is rubbing off on me. 

Now for the highlight of my entire day. Well, actually, one of the two highlights: 
     At the museum, there is a room referred to as "Investigation Station" with an exhibit where kids can build small rollercoaster-type constructions using plastic tubes, poles which fit into movable stabilizers on the ground, clamps, and whiffle balls. A little boy and his seven year-old sister were working together to add on to a roller coaster that had already been begun. His sister was the one with the vision, directing the construction. She did most of the building while her brother tried to help, but probably feeling he was just getting in the way, reverted back to putting whiffle balls in the tubes and watching them roll down. I sat there and watching, helping only minimally, because I did not want to get in the way of their creation or impose my own ideas, suggestions, or help, and because I wanted to gauge their problem-solving skills. At some point I did finally explain how the clamps and knobs on the clamps worked after seeing the children repeatedly struggle. She continued to work with determination until she finished to her satisfaction, leaving her brother at the exhibit alone to venture off to the art studio. Now here's where it gets interesting...

     Her brother, realizing he had all these materials to himself, took hold of his vision and set himself to work. His bright, concentrated eyes made me think to myself that I could be looking at a future engineer. He was so content and focused in what he was doing, as if the noise permeating the museum was nonexistent. I've never seen that level of focus before in the museum. I could see on his face the problem-solving that was going on in his mind, as he tried to figure out how to use the materials and make his vision reality. He struggled with the clamps as far as tightening them, and I had to remind him what each knob did and that he could move the poles which held the clamps. At some points he was visually frustrated by the fact that the tubes kept coming out of the clamps and falling apart. He was having to get used to the fact that he only had two hands and needed to do one thing at a time. Even when other children invaded his work-space with yelling and running, he continued to work until they eventually saw the work being done and left, as if they didn't want to disrupt him. The boy noticed their presence, and though not hostile, was silent. It was incredible to watch this four-year old as he persisted in his work for almost an entire hour, and it was beautiful to see him smile to himself after he put a whiffle ball down the tubes to see it roll successfully down and out. At one point as he was building, he hit a block and had to stop and think of where he wanted to make the roller-coaster go next. Right then, an older boy came in with lots of energy, attaching just one tube before running off again. That was all it took to inspire the younger boy to continue building, piecing the tubes together one at a time. 

     Eventually, a bright-eyed, confident, intelligent, and articulate six year-old boy came and began to build on to a separate area of the coaster. While he worked, the other boy stopped building, asked him if he wanted to build on to his coaster, and when the six year-old said he did not want to, he decided to stop working and watch him. All this time I helped only when it was clear the boys wanted or needed it, and seeing the older boy struggle with the clamps, I explained to him how to use them, and he retained and applied that knowledge. When the ball flew off his short, two-piece coaster, he explained why it fell; it was "going too fast." This showed reasoning and his following actions exemplified problem-solving skills when he rotated the tubes so the sides would hold in the ball. It's incredible to see how much a child develops in only two years. The younger boy carefully watched the older, trying to learn from him and at one point even asking, "Like this?" 

     Nevertheless, the younger boy's initial concentration was unmatched. Everything began to fall apart, however, when the older boy's brother came to show off a toy he had received from the front desk. How fragile focus is! Still, an hour of concentration is still impressive. 

     To just give an idea of how different children can be (if you didn't already realize), another four-year old boy came to play after the other had left. This boy could not have been less focused; neither was he able to articulate himself at all. He was dependent on my help and the help of his guardian to help him handle the tubes, and when I tried to explain the clamps to him, he looked neither at me nor the clamps. I was taken aback at the way this boy awkwardly handled the materials around him and how less developed his motor skills were than the other boy. I know that there are many factors that influence a child's development and I will never have the chance to know what kind of education and experiences the two boys have had that led them to develop so differently. I also know that personality plays a part. All of this is fascinating to me, but it also worries me to see children so dependent on others that they are not even willing to take the risk of trying to do things on their own or take the time to problem-solve. 


      To end on a positive note, I will tell you my second highlight of the day: glitter tattoos! (at the museum). I felt like the coolest person in the world covering a bunch of kids in glittery green dragons, rainbows, and pink whales! How better to end a day than with glitter?! :D 

The Squeezing of the Sponge

I still have the problem of having too much to talk about, so I won't dilly-daddle. This shall be as the squeezing out of a sponge, so be thus prepared! 

Scientific observation has established that education is not what the teacher gives; education is a natural process spontaneously carried out by the human individual, and is acquired not by listening to words but by experiences upon the environment. The task of the teacher becomes that of preparing a series of motives of cultural activity, spread over a specially prepared environment, and then refraining from obtrusive interference. Human teachers can only help the great work that is being done, as servants help the master. Doing so, they will be witnesses to the unfolding of the human soul and to the rising of a New Man who will not be a victim of events, but will have the clarity of vision to direct and shape the future of human society. - Maria Montessori, Education for a New World

This is a quote of Maria Montessori (http://www.montessori.edu/maria.html), which essentially sums up the core of her method. She believed in a method of education based upon trust in the child to naturally direct their own learning. Humans are, by nature, curious and will seek answers to the phenomena happening around them. We all have an innate desire to know how the world works and we all learn at different paces, at different rhythms, and in different ways; and this is why children should not be forced to learn pre-selected information in such a structured environment that their curiosity to learn, discover, and experience is replaced with a sense of, "I am learning and doing this, because I am being told to do so." As one teacher (teacher's assistant at this current time) phrased it to me, "Control the environment, not the child." If you want to teach the child about relative size, don't sit them down with a written assignment telling them to mark an "X" by the object that is bigger; put a set of blocks in the room of various sizes, introduce it as a new work, and see how they naturally learn to arrange them in order of smallest to largest. This work is otherwise known as "the brown stair." 

As explained to me, there are three pillars of Montessori:
1) Prepared Environment - everyday the room must be re-set and prepared for the next day. Pencils must be sharpened, tables cleaned, tasks organized and workbooks should contain the appropriate pages. If the room is not prepared, the kids' work-time is interrupted and wasted by something as trivial as searching the room trying to find the right color pencil, tape, or staples. 

2) Liberty - of the child. This does not mean that the child is free to do absolutely whatever he or she wants; rather, a child has the liberty to do what he or she needs during a certain phase of their life. Perhaps a child needs to spend months solely mopping a floor or solely doing math problems. If that is the case, let the child do so, trusting that at some point the time will come when they will naturally move to a different phase, such as reading or writing. Do not try to force a child to learn what they are not ready to learn, and give them privileges to work alongside others or direct themselves unless they prove themselves irresponsible or undeserving of such privileges. On another note, by no means is disrespect of other children, teachers, or adults tolerated for the sole sake of "liberty." 

3) Inner-Preparation of the Teacher - the teacher sets the mood of the classroom and since one of the primary ways children of a primary age learn is through imitation, it is necessary the teacher have patience and convey a sense of tranquility. The teacher must also learn the difficult task of trusting the method--the natural ability of children to explore and seek out understanding of how and why the world works around them. 

By no means do I have a thorough or complete understanding of the Montessori method, but I am learning more each time I go to the school and am fascinated and impressed by the way Montessori strives and succeeds to prepare children not only academically, but for life as well. Development of the whole child as a person is a fundamental goal of the Montessori method. This is why the classrooms are of mixed age; the younger children learn from the younger, and the the older children (kindergarteners) learn how to set themselves as an example, help and encourage the younger children with their work, and problem-solve together in a non-competitive environment. Not that competition itself is bad, but rather, competition over grades. 

Children learn lessons of problem-solving, persistence, responsibility, and conflict resolution on a daily basis. One three year-old boy, for example, had to learn to accept the consequences of his actions: he had filled a plastic mold of an island with too much water, so he had to use a turkey-baster to carefully transfer water from the mold to a pitcher on his own. The teacher's assistant showed him how to use the baster, but refused to do the work for him. It took the little boy a good 45 minutes from beginning to end, but once he finished, he got to experience the positive feeling of accomplishment. He didn't enjoy what he was doing as he was doing it, but he learned the important lesson of persistence. 

Another example of life-preparation at the Montessori school is the way in which conflicts between students are handled. If a child comes to the teacher upset about something another child has said or done, the first question the teacher or adult asks them is whether or not they have used their words to express how they feel to that other child. These children are at most six years old, and they are being taught the indispensable skill of conflict resolution through communication. Granted, telling someone that what they are doing is bothering/upsetting you doesn't always solve the problem, but these children are learning how to try and handle their problems on their own instead of immediately seeking the help of an adult. 

Feelings or emotions are not avoided subjects at a Montessori school. The children frequently engage in activities which help develop their "emotional intelligence." One activity, for example, involves one child walking around the middle of a group of students silently wearing and expression before the children have the chance to raise their hands and figure out what emotion was being expressed without being allowed to use the words "mad," "sad," or "happy." On multiple occasions, I have witnessed children in tears explaining to a teacher (more or less) how they felt after another child did something and why it upset them.

 On the flip-side, children don't have this same opportunity at the children's museum, where their parents are often right by their side. For the most part, children don't interact with other children apart from their siblings, so they are not practicing communication. I have not encountered a child yet at the museum who possesses the level of vocabulary and communication skills as at the Montessori school. I know that they are very different environments and there may be a lot of factors playing into why the level of engagement in conversation is so different, such as the fact that the children's museum is full of loud, excited children and distractions; but in most cases, whenever I have asked children questions at the museum or tried to talk to them, they have ignored me as if I wasn't there at all, or talked in such broken sentences that they made no sense at all. There are exceptions, of course, but these are my general observations. 

Nevertheless, there are similarities between the Montessori school and the museum. They both utilize sensory activities and give children the opportunities to learn with their hands. It's time for a short, adorable story! During a class called Wee Play at the museum, small, soft, white balls were brought out for the kids (one and a half to four years old) to play with as a sensorial activity; the theme was clouds. One little boy in particular loved falling on piles of these fluffy balls so much that once we started to put them away into their proper tubs/buckets, he proceeded to climb into the tub to surround himself with the fluffiness! How priceless is that?

I have another story, not as cute as that last one, but perhaps more informative. One child about a year old sat on the museum floor with a marker banging it up and down. His mom was about to stop him, until the activity leader stopped her, informing her that the motion of banging the marker up and down was one of the "ninety stages of learning to write." There is a long series of stages a child goes through to learn to write that involve learning how to hold a pen/pencil and developing those muscles involved. The mom had taken absolutely no offense and let the child continue with the marker; she was completely open to the information she had been told, she just had no idea that banging was one of the stages of a child eventually learning to write. This is an example of how even the smallest things or actions have purpose. Even at the Montessori schools, there are the smallest things I never would have thought about had I not been told. For example, there are no markers used the school because unlike colored pencils and crayons, they offer no resistance against the paper. Without resistance, the children don't develop the same muscles as they would if they had to press down harder on the paper to write or draw. I had never thought about that, and I don't know if it's just me, but I found it fascinating. Everything, like I said, has a purpose. 

...Because I am at that point where I feel like my "blog" can no longer be considered as a blog because of its length, I'm going to cover my last topic: general observations, using bullet points. Voilà! : 

At the Montessori School:
-younger children (3 or 4) seem to go for the sensory and practical life tasks
-children feed off of each other in terms of energy and concentration levels
-younger children observe and learn from the kindergarteners, who are reminded frequently to set an example for the younger ones
-teachers have a smooth way of introducing new lessons at the right time, allowing children to decide for themselves whether or not they want to continue a lesson
-kindergarteners must complete a numbers, reading, and writing work every day, so they stay on track of being prepared for elementary school

At the Museum: 
-children are the most focused in the art studio: Imaginarium. As they are making a craft, art is a very serious matter. 
-children are often pulled away from their play/work by their parents, who want to move on to a different exhibit or who have to leave. 
-some children are afraid to take risks...I was making a boat out of a small wooden blocks with a four-year old boy. When the time came to build the mast, which involved carefully balancing blocks on top of each other, he wanted me to do it. "I can't do it," he said, without having even tried. I refused to do it for him and encouraged him to try it himself. He tried once, and the blocks fell. He tried again, and they fell. With a determined look, he carefully set one block on the other...it stood! He was so excited and pleased with himself that he ran to show his mom and sister. I am so glad that I didn't let him convince me to do it for him. Through trial and error, he learned that he could do it, and he couldn't have been prouder of his boat, which he sent a picture of to his dad. I'm so thankful I was a part of that moment. I felt pretty awesome as these two kids begged their mom if they could come back next week during the times I would be there to hang out. Yup, I felt pre-tty special. 

One of Those Moments...

Today at the school there was one of those moments when I just had to laugh quietly to myself over what turned out to be one of the main highlights of my day: 

A young girl, 4 years old, decides that story time is overrated. "Why listen to a children's book when I could be spending time picking up tiny sticks and pebbles to carefully place in the creases of this teenage girl's jeans? After all, she's asking for it by sitting cross-legged on the floor next to me, right?" 

Maybe this wasn't exactly her thought-process, but still...Am I the only one who thinks this is hilarious? 

Priceless Moments, Bubbles, and Sequins

Because my last post was so extensive, I'll keep this one short and sweet.

In truth, I have so much to say, because I have been learning so much. I have pages of notes that I have taken while observing at the Montessori school and after days spent at the children's museum. I feel like a sponge. Spending so much time around children, I am left in wonder as I see them work, interact, and play. They seem so free. Their entire world right now revolves around learning how the world works and trying to make sense of the things around them; its beautiful to watch.

Another thing I've enjoyed is the funny stories I get to take away--stories of the priceless things children have said or done. As I sat in the group circle at the Montessori school this week, a little girl I had never met looked at me and said, "I love you." A few minutes later, she wraps herself around my arm. You know that warm, fuzzy feeling? Yeah, I had it.

Another time, kids were taking turns raising their hands to say 'Happy Birthday" to the birthday boy. One by one they went until it was finally the last girl's turn..."Happy New Year!"  --adorable.

The museum has its own store of stories. Who knew stickers, feathers, pasta, and crayons could make such a wonderful stick figure when glued on paper? Or who could fail to be impressed by the determination of girls to get sparkly sequins to stick to paper (to solve the dilemma, they had the ingenious idea of gluing tape upside-down onto paper and then pouring sequins onto the tape)? Love bubbles? --I thought I did too until I saw the look on one little boy's face as bubbles frivolously fell around him. I could not adequately express the joy that lit up his face if I tried. If I did try, I would liken it to the look on my face when I discovered my (unexplainable) love of pinecones.

I have learned, laughed, and smiled much already during this project, and I cannot help but realize how inspired I am to do something which I feel I have not done in a while: play.

Blue Foam-Noodles...En garde!

     Well, the good news is that I am learning a lot and am making many interesting observations (interesting to me at least); the bad (?) news is: it would take a very lengthy post to convey them all. I will do my best to summarize, without sacrificing the charming stories that come from watching 3 to 6 year olds for hours at a time. 

  I want to begin by saying that I was not aware of just how difficult observation is; truly, it is an acquired skill. It is so easy to become overwhelmed with taking notes, whether on paper or mentally, on every little thing that a child is doing, so I decided to myself that is not what I am going to do. I do want to keep track of childrens' activities at the Montessori school and at the children's museum, but I do not want to become buried in notes, so I have had to remind myself to focus on one thing at a time--something much harder than it sounds. I must remind myself quite frequently of the goal of my project, though I already have a feeling that I would like to extend it to include an investigation and insights into the Montessori method and theory. Anyways, let me begin by illustrating what a Montessori classroom at Khalsa is like. 

   The school day begins in a circle on the floor, quiet and composed. "Check your body," the teacher says to any child who may be fidgeting or touching someone else. The teacher only begins to speak once the children are silent and listening, ready to discuss the date and the weather. The lights are off; the sunlight streams in; the atmosphere is calm. During the group circle they may sing a song, note who is absent, and/or introduce a new activity in the room. Each teacher chooses how they wish the day to begin concerning what is addressed in the circle. One day, for example, the younger children were dismissed one by one into work time, while the kindergarteners (the classrooms are mixed-age) were given the assignment to draw and write expressively about a picture of their choice--a picture found anywhere in the classroom. Meanwhile, the younger children worked.

   The classroom is filled with activities relating to language/reading, mathematics, science, and geography. These activities are called "tasks" or "works" when a child is occupied with them and are kept on shelves throughout the room on trays or in baskets. During work time, individual children voluntarily choose their work, taking it carefully from the shelf to a table or to the floor, where they will work on a tray or a mat which they have laid out. Children may choose to sit at the same table, generally in groups of no more than three, but they each have their own individual work. Note: I say "work," but these activities actually look like a lot of fun. "Work" ranges from tracing pictures of dinosaurs and their names on paper; molding play dough with tools; scooping rice into small bowls; pouring water from one glass into another; cleaning toy dinosaurs with a sponge and toothbrush; to a phonics workbook. There is nothing in the classroom that is superfluous or out-of-place. Everything is meant to be multi-sensory, and stimulate cognitive processes, often involving comparison and classification in ways that engage eye-hand coordination. 

   There is an obvious difference in the level of concentration between older (5 or 6) and younger (3 or 4) children. One teacher explained to me that there is also a very observable different between children who are new to the Montessori method and those who were introduced to it at the age of three. After she said that, even I, having never before been exposed to a Montessori classroom, could identify which children grew up with such a method. They continued one activity until completion for nearly an hour, while other switched between activities every ten or fifteen minutes; some, the youngest of the group, didn't even spend five minutes on a task. One goal of the Montessori method is the learned ability to focus, and I was impressed by more than one child who expressed such ability. 

   On a different note, I will never ceased to be fascinated by the vast range of personalities. One girl, a kindergartener, approached me with curiosity, and asked what I was doing. She was articulate, composed, and light-spirited. She asked me if I knew what some things around the classroom were and explained their purpose to me when I said that I didn't. We continued to talk as she patiently waited to have snack, until another girl came up to her from the snack table and said sweetly, "You can have snack now." At that, she skipped away to the table and took a seat with her snack. I had quite the different experience with another girl, who I had been watching as she tried to help a younger boy with his work but eventually just ended up doing for him. The teacher noticed and moved her to another table right next to me, which gave her the opportunity to begin explaining to me what she was doing. I kneeled down and listened and when I noticed a small mistake in her addition , I suggested she re-check her work. She looked positively offended and horrified that I would even suggest such a thing. She then made it very clear that she needed her "space" to work, so I obliged, stood up, walked a few feet away, and re-commenced taking notes. A few minutes later, she got up from her work,came up to me and said, "I need my space, which means that you need to walk away." 

I couldn't help but smile to myself. I certainly didn't expect that. I obliged, knowing that I myself was in the process of familiarization with this method of education and also that the children were used to having their own space to work in an environment where they did not feel pressured. Perhaps I had unintentionally made her feel pressured, which definitely was not the goal and was something which I wanted to avoid then and in the future. 

I could say much much more about what I have learned and observed, but here are some of my general observations at the Montessori school: 

1) The children are aware of their surroundings and rarely if ever trip or fall over one another's work.
2) The children are polite to one another, respecting each other's work.
3) They enjoy sharing about what they are doing. 
4) They are self-confident and fairly independent (one boy, about four, spilled some water on the floor and to my astonishment, pulled out a mop!) 
5) Children love to raise their hand, even though they may not have the slightest idea of the answer to a question; they'll even lie about knowing an answer just to say a few seconds later, "I don't know," which is both sad and somewhat amusing. 



   The children's museum is full of hands-on fun, though not quite as orderly. But hey, sometimes it's good to cast order to the wind and make room for imagination! Let's build a cave out of grey foam blocks just to destroy it; or turn orange blocks into lava and donuts into cookies--whatever suits our fancy. It truly is fun spending time with these kids, who generally fall into the same age group as the kids at the school. Though I have noticed some differences related to cognitive and linguistic skills. A number of children I have interacted with at the museum have possessed poor communication skills, ignoring my questions or answering me with disjointed words or even sounds. Also, perhaps because their parents are always so eager to intervene or help, they do not exert much energy into problem-solving. The most common form of learning I've seen so far comes from trial-and-error. 

As far as concentration goes, I'm not going to make any hasty generalizations. One boy led a museum volunteer from exhibit to exhibit without spending even a minute at each, while another boy spent half and hour sending a whiffle-ball down a roller-coaster of plastic tubes: endless fascination.

It's been interesting to watch the interaction between children. Most seem to recognize the difference between another child trying to help them (by handing them something for example) and another interrupting their play. Once the children are focused on what they are doing, the become very sensitive to when other children come and use their materials or make some alteration to a system they have set up; which, I think, is understandable. At the Montessori school, distractions are kept to a minimum, but at the museum, kids are surrounded by distractions and are often pulled away from an activity by their parent or sibling wanting to move on to the next exhibit. All they want to do is sword-fight with blue, foam-noodles, but it's time to move on to the train room...*sigh*

Congratulations to anyone who read this far; only you will understand the title :) 

  

My Quest Has Commenced!

<<Insert poetic introduction here>>

     Good. Now 'tis time to get into the meat of my research project and explain what shall be occupying my time and energy for the next month or so. I would have attached my project proposal to delineate the original goal and purpose of said project, but as ideas tend to do, it evolved. Thus, the goal, or as I prefer, my quest, is to investigate the methods of hands-on, self-directed learning and education, and observe to what extent such methods incite positive behavior and social interactions in children from 3-6 years of age. This "quest" has called me to venture to the Children's Museum of Tucson, as well as a Montessori School (I'm afraid I have to omit the name for confidentiality reasons). Ask me not why for I have taken up this adventurous tone, for I can give no other answer than it suits my mood, and over these past weeks, I have been inspired by the imagination of small children (and Disneyland). 

     I chose the museum, because it is less-structured than the school, offering an informal approach to hands-on, independent learning, while the Montessori school is a setting specifically and intentionally designed to facilitate and foster self-directed, individualized learning. At both locations, I will observe parent and/or teacher roles in guiding and reinforcing such learning. Throughout the course of this project, I intend to gain a comprehension of Arizona Early Learning Standards as well as the theories behind both play-based and individualized, Montessori-inspired instruction. I also plan to assess the extent to which such methods create an effective learning environment, while inciting positive behavior. In addition, I hope to glean as much as I can from the knowledge and experience of teachers, parents and/or other directors/coordinators, while paying close attention to the children's behavior, interactions, and willingness and capacity to direct their own learning experience. 

     So far I can honestly say that I am fascinated by the Montessori method, most likely because it is so different from the structure of my elementary and high school classes. For those not familiar with Montessori, it is an education method in which children initiate their own learning; manipulating and investigating materials in a "supported and thoughtfully prepared learning environment." The teacher functions as a "role model, guide, demonstrator, and meticulous recorder of each student's behavior and growth." Children learn at their own pace and are given time throughout the day to decide for themselves which activities to engage in. During this time children are allowed to work in groups, but distractions that could interrupt the children's work are kept to a minimum.

     You might expect chaos from this sort of classroom structure, but I myself was surprised to see how calm, focused, and orderly the school environment was. Expecting the higher level of volume typically produced by children so young, I was instead surrounded by some twenty children keenly focused on their widely-varied work. I wanted to join them myself--the materials looking so interesting! Though I resisted the impulse, instead taking as many notes as I could jot down within a three hour period. One of my new friends noticed me writing and came to inquire as to what I was doing. I couldn't help but notice the genuine interest behind his voice, and the way he actually listened to me as I explained (thus far, children at the museum have proven themselves somewhat less attentive). 

     I have much more to tell, but all in time. For now, I will end by sharing a few observations that stood out to me this week during my time spent between the school and the children's museum:

1) At the school, children are never spoken to in a baby-voice; but are so almost exclusively at the children's museum. 

2) At the museum, it seems that parents cannot help but to aid their child with just about every activity, not giving them much opportunity to sort out their own mistakes or confusion. In some cases, the parents end up taking over an entire activity, while the child is left watching and unengaged (i.e. putting together a puzzle). 

3) Some children have or at least have had a fear of pancakes, such as the little boy I met at the museum, who confided in me as we made ankle bracelets out of pipe-cleaners and bells.