Saturday, February 28, 2015

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.

Saturday, February 21, 2015

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 :) 





  

Thursday, February 12, 2015

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.