Universal Basic Income and Its Potential in the World of Education

Today's adventure begins with a foray into the world of economics, with short stops along the way into politics and humanitarianism. We'll get back to education before the end, I promise, so bear with me, even if you can't see where I'm going with all of this. It will make sense in the end.

Five Thirty Eight, a data-driven news blog, recently posted an article on Universal Basic Income, an idea than every citizen be given a no-strings-attached living stipend. It's a philosophy that I've heard in passing before and agreed with, despite my lack of knowledge on the subject. The article is a little lengthy, but well worth the read. For the purposes of THIS article, I'm going to assume you've read the Five Thirty Eight one, so go ahead. I'll be here when you get back.

Interesting stuff, right? To learn more, check out the thorough Wikipedia article, Basic Income Earth Network's website, including their YouTube video playlist, and Techdirt's podcast episode with Albert Wegman.

The proposal has been touted as something that everyone can get behind, from socialists to libertarians, Martin Luther King Jr. to Milton Friedman. It supposes that once everyone has their basic needs met, they can participate more fully in society, and that if they aren't struggling to survive, they can focus on more important things. That is, if one isn't forced to work a meaningless job because "it pays the bills," they can, instead, focus on making their lives better, a la, Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs.

I can hear the collective gasp in response as I type this. There are a number of reasons why today's American society, if not the entire world, would balk at the suggestion. The one that I've heard most frequently when I've brought it up in the past (and one I'll discuss to day, as the others have well articulated responses in the links listed above) goes, "If no one had to work, they wouldn't. They would just sit at home, and nothing would get done! Productivity would go out the window!" I'm here to posit that that just isn't true. 

As Rutger Bregman puts it in his TEDx Talk, "If I asked each one of you in this room, 'Would you stop working? And I'll give you, you know, about 1,000 euros a month,' about 99% of you would say, 'Of course not. I've got dreams. I've got ambitions. I'm not going to sit on the couch, no.'"

Andrew Flowers of Five Thirty Eight backs this theory up, as well. He writes, of the Negative Tax Income pilots in the US, 

"Unsurprisingly, work effort did decline. Some NIT recipients cut back their hours, but the declines were modest: no more than 5 to 7 percent among primary earners, and a bit more for secondary earners.
But participants quitting altogether didn’t happen ... 'Some of the experimenters said that they were unable to find even a single instance of labor-market withdrawal,' wrote Widerquist in his 2005 paper summarizing the studies."

And I concur. Perhaps it comes from my belief in humanity. Yes, perhaps some individuals, Bregman's 1% of the audience, might choose to stay at home and relax unproductively with their stipend, but I choose to believe that the majority of humanity would do something with their lives, even if they didn't "have to." I believe that the natural curiosity and instincts inside each of us would push us to pursue our passions. I know I would still be working in education, regardless of pay, and my husband has said that he would still be in software development. Humans want to do things and feel productive. They want to feel like they're making a difference.

(I might also remind the reader that we don't know the stories of those individuals that would choose not to work. Maybe they've been working harder than the rest of us and actually "deserve" the respite. Maybe they're suffering from an unseen mental illness and would use that time as healing. Their lives are not ours to judge.)

Flowers conveys an idea of venture capitalist and author Albert Wegner's, "[He] wants less time spent on tasks that could be automated and more time spent on issues he thinks are insufficiently addressed: fighting climate change, exploring space, preventing the next global pandemic." Or, you know, bringing about the cessation of war. These are the real issues of our age, the serious problems that need to be settled, the ones we currently don't have time or funding for. I believe that humanity can solve these issues, and moreover, that we want to, we have a drive to. I believe that, given the opportunity, there would be an insurgence of people rushing to solve the world's most pressing issues. Right now, without the agency to do so, we've just become apathetic.

One concern of mine is that, as we have seen in the past, further half-hearted studies will ruin the name of Universal Basic Income. The most likely, in my opinion, is that a short-term study will determine that this proposal doesn't work--that the majority of people don't pursue their dreams, that they do buy alcohol and junk food and "waste" their time at home on the couch. The short-term studies will "prove" what everyone has been thinking all along.

Only a serious, long-term study will demonstrate the true strengths of humanity, their resilience and curiosity and passion, because here's another belief of mine: Humanity has a certain structure at this time. We have a schedule and a time table and someone telling us menacingly, "Do this or else." Without those things, we WILL take some time to explore our new-found freedoms. We WILL excitedly go to the store to pick up some "free" junk food and go home to relax on the couch and watch some shows. So if that's all the time the study allows for, yes, that's what it will find. However, if the studies give us more time and patiently sit back to watch what happens, after a while we will sit up and say, "I'm bored. I don't want to watch TV anymore. I want to do something fun!" And THAT'S when the good part will begin. THAT'S when we'll start to explore what we can REALLY do with ourselves.

We just have to be given the chance. And, as Flowers demonstrated in his article, there aren't any sufficient studies to yet prove one way or the other.

Alright, still with me? Now it's time to turn this train around and head back to the world of education. This is where it gets difficult for me because I'm about to discuss an issue that I am entirely too attached to. I feel vulnerable letting people see it because I don't want anyone to hurt it. But my opinion is a fortress, and I know that letting it out will either strengthen it or knock it down, and what do I want with a fortress that's too weak to withstand a little criticism, anyway? Thus, I welcome the criticism because I want the best ideas for my students. If this is not one, so be it. If it is, let's strengthen it and make it the best that it can be.

While I was exploring the world of Montessori, the philosophy that stood out stronger than the rest was, "Follow the child." Perhaps we might all have different takes on what precisely this means, but to me, it means, "The child is best suited to learn whatever he is most curious about," and, "The natural curiosity of a child is his key to education." Dictating what a child must learn and when will only serve to frustrate him, make him rebellious, and turn him against the idea of learning all together.

And I've taken this idea almost to an extreme, it seems to some people I know. When I explain this to others, the most common response I hear is, "But children will never learn if we don't make them."

Aha. Sound familiar? Thus, I return to my previous point: Yes, they will. 99% of the children in the room, if given enough time and started at the right age, have the natural curiosity and instinct to pursue their passions and make something with their time. And that means learning along the way, REAL learning. Not memorizing multiplication tables or the order of the presidents, because that information can be "automated," or in this instance, easily referenced. What learning would they do instead? I'm guessing the same learning that adults would be doing: "fighting climate change, exploring space, preventing the next global pandemic." Or, you know, bringing about the cessation of war.

But again, we can't expect this to happen in one or two years, especially, as I'm learning currently and will discuss in a later post, not starting with high schoolers. If I were to tell my high school students, "You don't have to go to school. Go learn anything you want on your own," the majority of them would excitedly go to the store, buy some junk food, and then go home to sit on the couch and watch TV. Only after they've had their fill of that would they say, "I'm bored. Eh, okay, let's see what else there is to do." But I'm assuming that many of them would be too far down the wrong path and struggle to get back to the right one. I think that's because they've been shoved into the current model so long, it's the only thing they know. 

But if we started with four- and five-year-olds, it would be a different story. If we asked them, "What do you want to learn about?" each would be bursting with their own answer. If we begin with the excitement of the young child, allow them to pursue their passion, patiently sitting back to watch what happens, I believe he will retain that passion throughout his life and eventually turn it into the solutions to humanity's real issues.

Why the Author Chose to Discontinue Her Pursuit of Formal Montessori Training

Well, I'm back home, and if the title is any hint, it's earlier than expected. I completed the Foundations course (which is basically the 9-month long Primary training condensed into a five-week course) but chose against continuing into the actual Elementary I and II training. There were a number of reasons why, which I will go into at length below, but briefly, it just seemed like life was telling me that now is not the appropriate time. I've gone through my blog and rewritten every mention of which school I attended (though it probably wouldn't be difficult to figure out, regardless). I just don't want anything I have to say to reflect badly upon the training center. It IS a good school and a good program; it just wasn't the right program for me. I'm glad I had the opportunity to study there, even if it was only for a short time. I did learn a lot, and I consider it to have been a positive experience, during which I grew as an educator.

That being said, more after the cut.

Tying Shoes

In the interest of trying to write more, here's a thought I had. I'm not sure how far into it I can explore, because it seems like just a small thought, but I'll try to go as deep as I can.

While I worked at the day care, I was constantly tying shoes. Why do parents keep buying shoes that tie for children that don't know how to tie them? Is it because they want to retie them multiple times a day themselves?

It's so that the kids can learn to tie, one might reply.

Yeah, that's not practical. In today's world, there's no time for that. When the shoes go on the feet, that means it's time to go. Ideally in that situation, a parent could announce that it was time to leave, tell a child to go put on his shoes, and then wait patiently until the child has his shoes tied. In reality, a parent doesn't have the time or patience to wait and inevitably winds up tying the shoes herself.

The Montessori way would be to never buy clothes or shoes that a child can't put on my himself (okay, past infancy). To teach shoe tying, a parent could provide, during down times only, one of their own shoes or a tying frame and slowly model. Shoes for a child that tie would only come after tying is mastered. It might even be considered an incentive for learning. Child asks for shoes that tie? They must first demonstrate that they can tie the shoes.

Montessori curriculum uses dressing frames to assist children in learning these practical life lessons. Again, they're used during down times, not at the time a child is expected to dress herself. As far as shoe lace learning is concerned, here is both a lacing frame and a tying frame. Here's a video of the actual lesson a Montessori teacher would give using the tying frame. I love how everything is done multiple times to reinforce each action. (I've linked to Nienhuis because their pictures are nice, but you could definitely make them yourself using fabric, ribbon, and an old picture frame from the thrift store. Michael Olaf made a gorgeous one while teaching in Bhutan. Or, you know, whatever. Cardboard and cardboard boxes work just fine.)

Or if your child is struggling with his fine motor skills and just needs to get the right movements down first, you can always turn tying into a gross motor activity by using a giant shoe or giving him a jump rope.

And if the method is difficult, there are a myriad of alternative ways to tie shoes. One of them will surely be easier for your child than the traditional method! There are a lot of videos on the Ian Knot, and it sure does look promising!

Initial Thoughts About Teaching Montessori in a Public School Classroom

As crazy as it sounds, I've been thinking about going back to public school. I know that's where the kids need me the most and where I can make the biggest difference, I just have to convince administration that I'm a professional and that they can trust me to make professional decisions. I'm not sure how likely I am to find an administration like that, especially in Kansas.

Although there was some unexpected and unprecedented news out of Seattle yesterday, when an entire high school decided not to administer a standardized test. There may be some hope yet. I just don't know how much I want to fight. I'm only 24, but I feel as though my activist years are coming to a close.

Come what may, it may be time for me to finally step up and take a class of my own under my wing. For better or worse, I have chosen teaching as my career, and I need to stop beating around the bush and answer my calling.

All of these thoughts have led me to think--if I COULD run a classroom anyway I chose, without administration breathing down my neck, how would I do it?

Montessori style.

And, for the record, I'm talking MY Montessori style, not traditional with all of the approved and endorsed Montessori things. You don't need to spend thousands of dollars at Nienhuis to have a quality program, and I don't plan to. That's not what Montessori is truly about. Honestly, I plan on taking my Montessori training (I DID enroll in a Montessori training program, did I mention that?) and mixing it with little bits and pieces of whatever I feel is beneficial, no matter where I end up.

At any rate, here are my initial thoughts about teaching Montessori in a public school.

To begin with, I'd like to have a regular routine of work periods in which children can decide what to accomplish for themselves.

Because there will be many activities occurring simultaneously, it will be expected that the volume-level of the classroom remain low, so that everyone can concentrate--not an easy task for a traditional public school classroom.

I would probably have to rely on a menu system, as in the Montessori school I volunteered at for a semester. I couldn't find a link explaining it, so basically, the guide and individual children cooperatively decide what objectives need to be met, lessons need to be learned, and works need to be practiced for a week or set period of time. It sounds like a daunting task, but I see it as necessary. Eventually the children and I will get into the habit of it.

Similarly, I will need to teach reflection skills and how to document and be responsible for one's own learning. So not only will they help to choose what they need to work on each week, the students will record their progress and how well they met those objectives.

As far as teaching itself goes, I will probably be expected to teach from a specified curriculum, no matter how wonderful administration may be. Obviously, some children will not be ready for information, and they will not learn at that point even (or perhaps especially) if I made them sit down and listen to it. Thus, every child will be responsible for learning the material on their own terms. I will give the lesson once at a time specified on the board at the beginning of the week, and the children will be welcome to join me for it or not. They could alternatively read the material on their own, with a peer, or have a peer teach them at a later date. I DO hope to inspire a lot of peer teaching, somehow. That's something else I will have to look into how to create.

I will maintain that the students join me for morning circle, however. It's an important time to build the classroom, give important updates and news, and discuss anything that needs to be discussed.

And, of course, there will be what is referred to currently as "specials," (P.E., art, music, etc.), recess, and lunch that will be at determined times, but other than those and morning (and perhaps closing) circle, all other times will be work time. (Uggh, I can just imagine now how disruptive fire and tornado drills will be for this kind of setting.)

And then there's the environment--a classroom designed for highest efficiency by the children. Several small areas for different activities, walls showing off posters and projects the students use to document learning and teach peers about their own learning, a large classroom library, a number of laptops (perhaps supplied by a grant? I could do that, I think), a water cooler with individual student cups or water bottles, a small fridge with snacks of fruit or other healthy snacks brought in by students and provided by me...

So, walking into my classroom during work period, you'd see students working quietly on a number of activities:
* a small group with me learning a new lesson from mandated curriculum
* one child tutoring another in a lesson he is unsure of
* a child researching information on the internet and writing a cited report of her findings
* two children working on a project to present to the class
* a child watching others work to familiarize himself with a work before attempting it himself
* a child practicing by himself a skill learned earlier in the week
* a child writing a story
* a child writing a self-reflection about her own learning
* a couple of scattered children reading to themselves

A lot going on. A lot of responsibility and a lot of learning. I'm thrilled at the prospect. I hope I get a chance to make it work.

Toddlers and Pretend Play

I've been spending the past week and a half with the youngest at the daycare again, a class of 12- to 24-month-olds. They certainly keep me on my toes. Once, the box of plastic food and dishes was out when I came in in the morning. I'm not too fond of this box in any classroom, the biggest reason being that the direct representation of food doesn't lend itself to creativity like a box of only dishes would. But in the youngest's room, there's something else at hand as well.

When I first spent time with the littlest ones, I taught about how playing with pretend food means only pretending to put the toys in one's mouth. It was to little success. I watched the older ones take to it reasonably well, but they were two years old already or fast approaching. The littler ones couldn't seem to comprehend the practice, and when I went in that morning, I was frustrated already because I knew that almost all of the children in the room that day were closer to 12 months than 24.

Yet the toys were already out, so I had no other choice than to begin the long struggle that felt like, "come on, please mimic me already!" For the half an hour that remained until outside time, I watched the eyes and faces of the children as I carefully explained again and again, "No, not in our mouth. Just pretend," and demonstrated. It just wasn't there. There was no understanding on any of their faces.

This box has no purpose in this room, I thought to myself. These kids are just too young to understand how to pretend.

It hit me all at once what I had just realized.

Well, that's it then. I guess I really am a Montessori teacher.

One of the most common arguments I hear against Montessori education is about the lack of imaginative play in the classroom. The link in the above post writes well on the topic, but even upon reading it, I still hadn't made up my mind definitively on the issue until that moment last week.

Even in the older classrooms, some toddlers still don't understand pretend play, as evidenced by the teeth marks on every piece of plastic food and dishes in the establishment. They must be told very specifically that, "That is a toy. We don't put toys in our mouths. It's just for pretend," and I haven't seen any other teacher say this.

So I know now that I believe children can't understand pretend play until around the age of two, but what of giving imaginative play toys to older toddlers?

Well, children will play whatever they need to play in order to develop the skills they currently need, despite what invitations we make available for them through toys. A friend recently described to me how her two-year-old gave voices to and played dolls with crayons one day. Similarly, my parents have a photograph of me playing intently on the floor with a piece of trash that looks like a wadded up piece of paper. If children want to play housekeeping, nothing will stop them from finding what they need to do so, but I don't believe that we need to provide them with the confusing, mixed messages that pretend toys send.

(It's a little disheartening to me to realize this, actually, as I was planning on giving my two-year-old nephew the elegant, painted wood Food Cutting set from Melissa and Doug as a gift. Although it does list the age the toy is appropriate for as 3+. Unfortunately, because I'm a long-distance aunt, I don't get to spend as much time with him to know when he would truly benefit the most from this gift.)

In the meantime, what should these little ones be working with? Well, pouring, scooping, matching, classifying, and practicing cleaning various things. You know, Montessori activities. :)

Montessori and Waldorf -- Post from Vibrant Wanderings

Discussions of the similarities and differences between Montessori and Waldorf education are rampant on the internet. Even a few of my own friends have spoken of personal biases towards one or the other.

Regarding that, I found this post from Vibrant Wanderings to be thoughtful.

List of Montessori Secondary Schools

What follows is a (so far, incomplete) list of American Montessori secondary schools and the unique qualities they have.

A Look into Secondary Montessori Education

Because Montessori didn't write about extensively about secondary education like she did early childhood and elementary, not many secondary Montessori schools exist. I wrote previously that a natural progression from the independence training that early childhood and elementary Montessori schools provide might be an opportunity for children to be completely in control of their own education.

I haven't had the chance to read the translations of Montessori's work, but I've read recently online that she briefly mentioned her idea of secondary schools involving adolescents gaining an education through their experiences working on a farm. Wikipedia has it cited as:

"The essential reform of our plan from this point of view may be defined as follows: during the difficult time of adolescence it is helpful to leave the accustomed environment of the family in town and to go to quiet surroundings in the country, close to nature." (1989, p. 67)

Hershey Montessori School in Ohio seems to have taken that quote to heart when designing their school. They have received much recognition. Here is the Montessori for Everyone blog on Erdkinder (German for Earth Child) and the Hershey school. And here is NAMTA's David Kahn on the Hershey school and Colegio Montessori de Tepoztlan in Mexico.

Noted Montessorian Michael Olaf writes that adolescents need to spend time working with money, finding themselves, and trying different unpaid apprenticeships.

I'd like to get more of an idea of some existing Montessori secondary schools. Perhap they will give me some insight or inspiration. I'll create my list here.

Finally, NAMTA published a journal titled The Montessori Adolescent Analysis in Retrospect that I'd like to get a chance to read sometime (although I'm curious what they mean by "in retrospect"). They also host a course called The AMI Montessori Orientation to Adolescent Studies (hosted at the Hershey campus). I'd really like to attend after I get my Elementary I and II license.

EDIT (2/29/12): Montessori Muddle is a great blog I found that advertises itself as "Middle and High School ... from a Montessori Point of View." From the looks of it, the author talks about a little bit of everything. I can't wait to get reading.

"Community/Neighborhood School" Idea

Yesterday I watched Designing a Great Neighborhood, a documentary about creating a neighborhood in Boulder, Colorado.

I have a love/hate relationship with these kinds of things, sort of Utopia-ish. I'm fascinated with utopian/dystopian novels. I love reading them, but I can't ever sort out my feelings for their ties to the real world. On one hand, it's great to see so much effort going into the creation of this neighborhood--the windows are positioned to take in as much daylight as possible. The roofs, to not block the sun for other buildings. Everything's been planned with such precision. At the same time, you DO wind up with sort of cookie-cutter houses. Yes, they have been designed for efficacy, but the unification IS a bit unnerving.

Those personal feelings aside, I was still fascinated with the documentary and found myself immediately wanting to move there, planning certain details I would have done differently from a design aspect. "My" neighborhood would certainly need schools, of course, because that's where I would work.

At first I considered an elementary, middle, and high school, all in a row next to each other (which is how the schools in the small town I lived in for half of my childhood were positioned, now that I think about it). That way, all of the children could walk to school together with their siblings.

But the more I thought about it, would the high school be necessary? There wouldn't be enough students in the neighborhood to fully populate the high school, so others would have to be brought in--others that would be outsiders. Surely the children could gain enough independence to travel outside the neighborhood on their own to the high school. But then they'd be the outsiders. And they probably wouldn't even get a good education there, anyway.

But wait, if I'd trust that high-schoolers had enough independence to travel the city on their own, that means their former education would have had to create that independence in them. And what better way to create independence in a child than Montessori?

Yes, it's perfect because then the children could transition from a Montessori elementary to a Montessori secondary education. And because I'm not familiar with any secondary Montessori schools, in my mind it looks pretty much like a Free school (which I'll have to blog about later because I realize that I haven't yet).

Well, then, it'll be a three story building, functioning as a community building when school is not in session. The first floor would have the stage for performances, etc. and the early childhood center. The second story would be for elementary aged children, and the third story, for post-elementary. I hadn't determined whether an adult would need to be present on the third story or not. Ideally, the children would be so in charge of their own education that they could function completely independently and only need to visit an adult downstairs occasionally.

It's such a great model for a school, I wish all schools were fashioned after it. Right?

No Need for "Practice"

Of all meditational cleaning, dish washing may be the most effective. Somehow the calm flow of the warm water helps my thoughts to surface and come cleaner. Today it helped two formerly unrelated thoughts connect and become stronger.

1. Children should not be given "practice" plastic cups and plates before they are trusted with glass ones. (This is a Montessori idea.)

2. Children should not be taught to master addition and subtraction without regrouping before they are allowed to move on to addition and subtraction with regrouping. (My university math methods teacher taught this idea.)

Upon meditation, this is the same principle applied to different areas of life, and it comes down to trusting that our children can handle bigger ideas and concepts. The things we trust our children with do not need to be broken down into smaller steps. If we tell our children that we are trusting them with something, they will live up to our expectations. Sure, a child may break a plate or regroup incorrectly at first, but helping them clean up their mess and letting them grow through experience is easier in the long run than babying them and expecting constant growth.

Teaching simple addition connects certain synapses in children's brains that tell them what math is like. When we teach regrouping as a separate lesson, it tells the student, "Remember how you thought math was easy? Well, it's not really. There's actually a whole other step that you have to do now." They see it as an entirely different (and more complex) process. Contrariwise, if regrouping is taught first, not only is the base ten system emphasized (because children, especially English-speaking children, need all of the help with base ten they can get. More on that later), but simple addition seems even easier.

Similarly, if we hand toddlers a plastic cup (usually in the form of a sippy cup, in most societies today), it connects synapses that tell the child the properties of a plastic cup--it's light-weight, liquid stays in if I tip it over, it doesn't break when I drop it, liquid only comes out at this specific point, etc. Then it doesn't make sense in a child's mind that her father's cup has different properties, and he's upset when she breaks it. However, if we give the same toddler a miniature glass cup to begin with (I've seem shot glasses used for this purpose), she learns an entirely different set of mental rules about the properties of glasses and any glass thereupon requires no other handling consideration. Yes, the first one will be broken. Yes, a few others may be broken in the next couple of years. But that only emphasizes the properties of dishes.

Rather than giving children "practice" cups and plates when they are small, cut out the middle man and give them smaller sized glasses.

Rather than teaching children "practice" addition, cut out the middle man and teach regrouping first.

Rather than babying children with a modified version of life, let them experience reality.

Masters Programs in Montessori

I never saw myself as a Masters type of person. I figured I'd get a Bachelors degree, and that'd be good enough. But during research for Montessori training schools, I came upon an affiliation program with a university. Once I saw it and realized that a Masters degree was actually attainable, I wanted it. Here are the results for my further research on the subject, arranged according to my interest in the program. I did not include any online programs.

Loyola University (Baltimore) / Montessori Training Center of Minnesota (St. Paul)
PDF Info Pamphlet
Outcome: AMI Montessori diploma and Masters of Education in Montessori degree
Three summers of classes beginning June 2013 + 4-day winter seminars
9 hours (2 papers) at Loyola as a fourth summer or during semester
(27+9=36 credit hours total)
$10,000 for Montessori training, $? per out-of-state university credit
Applications available May 2012
Must take Primary Foundations course before program
Financial Aid SELF Loan through the State of Minnesota www.selfloan.org
Loyola student loans for MTCM www.loyola.edu/montessori_affiliate
Loyola financial aid www.loyola.edu/financialaid
MES Scholarship through AMI/USA. Application deadline is May 1st of each year http://amiusa.org/become-a-teacher/financial-aid
Information video

St. Mary's College of California (Morgana, CA)
Outcomes: AMS Elementary Education credential and Masters of Arts - Montessori Elementary Education
32 credits
$410 per credit hour (roughly $13,000)
Program length: Roughly 2 years + 1 year (of 2 more classes and culminating project)
1 year of classes, 1 year of paid internship or student teaching

Xavier University (Cincinnati)
Outcome: AMS Montessori diploma and Masters of Education degree
Full-time, part-time, or summer class options (20? seats available)
51 hours required for Elementary I. Take an intensive additional summer for Elementary II.
$? per university credit
Must take Primary Foundations course before program

St. Catherine University (St. Paul)
Outcome: AMS credential and Masters of Education degree, optional STEM graduate certificate
39 credits
STEM certification
$? per university credit
Primary Foundations included in credit hours

Chaminade University (Honolulu)
Outcome: Masters of Education with Emphasis on Montessori
31 credits

Belmont University (Nashville)
Outcome: AMS Early Childhood certification Master of Arts in Teaching and State Licensure

Hampton University (Hampton, VA)
Outcome: Masters of Education in Montessori Education
33 credits

Sienna Heights University
Outcome: Masters of Arts in Early Childhood Education: Montessori
36 credits

~*~

[Redacted text about choosing a program]


Edit (Feb. 2012): I found another great program. Although I've already decided which school to go to, I'll list it below.

Hershey Montessori Training Institute (Cleveland) / Loyola University
Outcome: AMI accredited Elementary Montessori license, Masters of Education in Montessori
Available as a one academic year (9.5 months) program or a three summers program (next three summers program begins 2014)
Cost: $12,500
Financial aid, scholarships, and discounts available
As well as being accredited by AMI, HMTI is also closely associated with NAMTA. It sounds like a great school. If I hadn't already chosen another school, HMTI would be the obvious choice.


Edit (Sept. 2012): Here's a site that would have been helpful while I was still deciding on a school, a list of all (currently 16) AMI certified training centers in the US, Training Center Locator. There's even a page of Degree Options With AMI Training Centers from the same site.

University has pushed me further towards Montessori

Spring semester took its toll on me. I was so stressed, I really had no time for anything else but school, pre-student teaching, and 20 hours of co-op internship work. I had no time at all to research anything on my own time and never once cracked open an education book. As I progress further into my education, I get to experience more and more what it means to be a public school teacher. And I hate it.

During spring semester, I taught science and social studies to second graders in a technology-focused magnet elementary school. My cooperating teacher says I did great, but my science professor (who graded all of my work) wasn't as fond of my ideals and practices. I felt more comfortable addressing the students Socratically, through dialogue and thinking aloud. Unfortunately, I was graded most of the semester on how well I could adhere to the Inquiry model of teaching, which works well for science lessons a lot of the time, but not 100% of the time, and not much at all with other subject, specifically the other subject I taught, social studies. It's a good model. It focuses on students learning scientific concepts by working hand-on with experiments and developing thoughts on their own about what they're seeing and doing, rather than being spoon-fed the concepts and doing the experiments to see if they can apply the knowledge well enough to get it to work. Perfect for a science classroom. But I'm not running a science classroom.

For the unit I taught, I was required to administer a pre- and post-test in order to calculate growth and, therefore, the accuracy of my teaching. I used backward planning, creating unit objectives, basing a post-test based on the objectives, and finally, developing lessons to reach the objectives. And then, as I taught the lessons, before I realized it, I... I was teaching to the test! Me! The non-traditional teacher! Teaching to the test! *sigh*

It wasn't a total disaster, though. I did teach a lesson on the March 2011 Japan natural disasters. The students learned a lot and wrote about what they thought the world could do to help. I was inspired. My science professor was outraged. She sent me an angry email saying that she did not approve or think the lesson was appropriate. She said she would not like her second-grade-aged niece learning what I taught in the school. I promptly responded with an email stating that I thought it was not only appropriate for second-graders to learn current events happening in the world around them and how to rise up and show compassion for their fellow man, but it was imperative. Personal regards to philosophy of educating family members not withstanding. It goes without saying that I received the poorest of my grades for that lesson, regardless of my justifications.

I also taught a couple of lessons about environmentalism, which I thoroughly enjoyed. We learned what composting is, what kinds of materials are recyclable, how to sort them, and even how long certain materials take to decompose (which, I admit, may have been over their poor heads. I wish I had had more time to explain that part). I even got them writing a little, which their classroom teacher didn't hardly bother with because of the high ESOL population (which I thought was all the more reason to focus on it). Good times were had.

I can't decide whether or not I'm looking forward to next semester and my senior year. I'm excited to meet the students I'll be working with next year, and I'm excited to teach and interact with them. But I'm not looking forward to having the lessons I want to teach frowned upon and more teaching to the test.

Public school teachers, I've found, have their days practically already planned out for them. Lunch, recess, and "specials" (music, art, and PE) are already pre-set, and teachers work in grade teams to determine the rest of the schedule. Schedules and routines are great for children. They thrive with a daily schedule. But it leaves no room for spontaneity, which grows flexible children. What if a lesson sparks a big dialogue? In my ideal classroom, we'd continue it because the students are engaged and learning from one another. Who am I to say, "Stop, we don't have time to finish that thought"? Who am I to say, "Stop, we've talked about this enough today"? But that's exactly what the public school teacher would do. What if students are incredibly more focused in math one day, for whatever reason, because somehow something just finally clicked. Why would you say, "I'm glad you finally understand, but now we're going to switch gears and go into English" instead of giving the students more time to apply what they've just figured out?

Unfortunately, I think I know part of the answer. It comes down to funding, No Child Left Behind, and assessments. It always comes down to one of those three these days. It's rush rush rush in public schools. It makes me frustrated, angry, and sick.

At the end of spring semester this year, I took a day to visit the other Montessori school in town, the one I had never been to. It was bigger than K.'s Montessori class of 6-7 students. This one had roughly 10 students per class, pre-K through fifth grade. The students shared three open spaces, one for Kindergarten and pre-K, one for 1-3, and an upstairs for 4th and 5th. The most distinct difference I found in this Montessori school was that they seemed to teach a curriculum based half on traditional Montessori and half on whatever the public school district taught. How unique! They had also embraced technology, from what I could see, something I was thrilled to see! The teachers were friendly and chatted amiably with me about any questions I had until the director kicked me out because the students 'needed to stay focused,' or something. I asked if I could return in the future, but the director edged around saying no. The reasoning seemed to be that I interfered with the atmosphere. Sadly, it appears that they have a closed door policy.

As I fell asleep the other day, I had a random memory of a small marimbula I saw in a store recently. I began to imagine, in the haze of sleep, a scene in which students could pick small instruments, such as the marimbula, a small flute, an ocarina, a triangle, etc., out of a basket to play. I humored the thought for a few minutes until I realized that this scene would not be practical in a traditional public school setting. At that moment, suddenly wide awake, I rejected public schools entirely. It would be acceptable in a Montessori classroom. And at that moment, I fully embraced Montessori. I wanted to be a Montessori teacher.

I did a little research on getting a Montessori license before I went to the second Montessori school at the end of spring semester (which I should call the first, as it was founded in 1985, I believe, and K.'s school will be beginning its third year of operation in the fall). There are few schools that offer Montessori training, and even fewer that offer it for elementary level. And they are far from where I live. And they are expensive, upwards of $10,000. Another option is an online license for around $4,000, which is not recognized by either school of philosophy (AMI--Association Montessori Internationale, AMS--American Montessori Society) but may still get me a job if I try hard enough.

My husband had a job offer for a computer science company that offers Montessori as a company preschool. Wouldn't it be amazing if they hired us both? But I don't want to work with Early Childhood, even though it'd be nice. My heart lies with the elementary age.

The only other thought I had was, with an immediate panic, "What about my pledge!?" Traditional Montessori doesn't lend itself to "Living in the Age of Technology," the fourth section of my Pledge to Guide Today's Students. But then, perhaps I don't want to work in a traditional Montessori school. Nontraditional here, remember? What's more important is that I've decided that I want to pursue a Montessori license, not the particulars of what goes on in the classroom. The Montessori school I visited recently used technology, what's to say I won't end up working in a school more like that?

In the meantime, it just so happens that I'll have Fridays off next semester. I think I'll do some more volunteering, if I can.

EDIT: I didn't want to add this last night because I didn't want to admit it to myself and I needed to rethink a couple of things. Going into Montessori to some people (namely, my husband) means giving up on public schools. It means not reaching as many students. It's hard for another part of me to accept that--the activist part that shouts, "Education is a right!" and wants higher taxes and a good, quality education for all.

But I'm not giving up on public education, per se. I don't want to be the elitist teacher of the private, prestigious Montessori school, I want to be the brave teacher at the alternative school (which just happens to be Montessori) that accepts children that public school has rejected and helps them find success. And besides, there are public school districts that have adopted Montessori methods into their curriculum. I found them during research one day. They don't accept teachers without a Montessori license.

So I'm not going into Montessori to reject public school. I fully support public schools, I just think they need to be remodeled. Having lost the full-out activist kick I was on a few years ago, being a Montessori teacher is doing my part in education, but not having to put up with the system in its current state, and without having to barrel head first into the activist world (and maybe, maybe not making a dent).

Yes, he's right, I won't reach as many students that need my help, but I may be able to help the students that need the MOST help, assuming I find my destined school (or start my own, WHEW, WHAT WORK!). Besides, from what I experienced last year, going into public schools at this point may spell early burn-out for someone like me. And then where would we be?

Who knows what the future will really bring. All I know is that my heart is telling me that going into Montessori teacher training is the next step, and I hope to have the courage to listen.

Book Review: Children of the Universe

The second book K. lent to me is one she says she tries to incorporate into her teaching as much as possible, Children of the Universe: Cosmic Education in the Montessori Elementary Classroom by Michael and D'Neil Duffy.

Some time ago, probably within a month or two of discovering Montessori education, I came across the most amazing and wonderful lesson that Montessori herself taught, The Great Lesson. Even before reading much into it, I could tell that it was one of the things that truly made Montessori education different and far more special than traditional education.

The Great Lesson begins by sitting down with the students in a darkened room. The teacher begins to tell a story, just like the storytellers of times long gone by. She starts off softly, "In the beginning, there was nothing. And then," (she presents a black balloon secretly filled with silver glitter) "there was a burst of energy," (she pops the balloon and the glitter fills the air) "and particles were set into motion."

This lesson, even merely reading it and not having the opportunity to experience it, awed me. To explain to children at that age, and with such emphasis!, something of that philosophical weight and significance, stuck me as something of great importance that had been lost to most teachers before me. Why had no teachers the courage to entrust their students with this knowledge?

Michael and D'Niel showed me that, although this was the only Great Lesson Montessori taught in her time, her son, Mario, and those that followed her work, wrote four more and expanded on her original. Collectively, they are sometimes referred to as Great Lessons, implying the significance of the content, and sometimes, Great Stories, implying the significance of the presentation. The five Great Lessons/Stories are:
-The Story of the Universe (Creation Story, The Story of the Beginning)
-The Story of Life
-The Story of Humans
-The Story of Language
-The Story of Numbers
These five stories are broken down even farther by some Montessori educators to include individual stories about Earth, Civilization, etc. Because the are not lessons set in stone, any teacher can create a story about anything she feels needs to be talked about with the greatest of importance.

Cosmic education (and the Great Lessons it includes) is, according to Micheal and D'Neil, the foundation of Montessori education. It is the basis on which every other subject is taught, and every lesson in the Montessori classroom should be constructed with the Great Lessons in mind.

The Stories are told from large scale to small scale, Universe to individual level, which is directly opposite how traditional education is taught. The student in a traditional classroom might be taught about their neighborhood in kindergarten, their state and perhaps the nation in elementary school, and the world (and possible the stars if they had the opportunity to take the elective) in middle and high school, considering all the while how they can relate their studies to themselves.

Montessori students, on the other hand, begin their studies considering the universe as a whole, before they were born, before the Earth even existed, and the unquestionable laws of physics. They reflect on how stars and plants were created, then how the Earth was formed and what it was like before it contained the conditions for life. Then they learn the life that first began to exist on Earth and how it transformed and grew stronger and into billions of different species. Only then are they ready to consider themselves and humanity as it is today. It instills in the students an incredible sense of humility and lets them see their place in the world, their place in the universe. Cosmic Education teaches students to be one with the universe and to be at peace.

Reading Children of the Universe was quite an experience for me. I loved every bit of Cosmic Education (with the small exception of the option to include a divine creator in the Story of the Beginning), and yet at the same time, I felt as though I were an outsider looking into something I could not be a part of. I realized that the whole of Montessori is based on science, definitely not my best subject. I could just picture myself trying to give these Great Lessons, stumbling myself for the correct account, being asked questions I had no idea how to answer. Of course, this road block may be smaller than I see it as, because the Great Lessons are not given to show all the answers to students. They are merely to introduce concepts and inspire the students to research, teaching themselves the answers to their questions. Still, I'm not accustomed yet to students researching things in my classroom that I don't have the ability to clarify myself.

The second hesitancy I had was, of course, reading a purely Montessori book as a public school teacher. The majority of these Stories have no place in the American public school classroom due to separation of church and state. If I started teaching my students about the Big Bang and evolution, two very important pieces in Cosmic Education, I'd have enough public outcry to take away my license in a heartbeat. I know that there are ways to tame down what I've read enough to introduce it to my classroom, but I think I would always be afraid I was saying too much. In any case, I think I might be able to at least guide my students towards the gravity of topics such as the universe and world outside their backyard without making parents upset.

My own issues aside, there are a few notes I took from the book to share:

*"Montessori saw no contradiction between her acceptance of evolution and her religious beliefs as a Roman Catholic. In fact ... she considered human beings as collaborators with the deity in the work of continuing creation," p.21

*"'If the idea of the universe is presented to th child in the right way, it will do more for him than just arouse his interest, for it will create in him admiration and wonder, a feeling loftier than any interest, and more satisfying,'" p.31 (Montessori, To Educate, p.9)

*"The job of the Montessori teacher/directress is not to teach information so much as to guide or direct the children to an area of study by stimulating their imagination and interest, and then letting them go on their own as far as they wish using both the classroom materials and outside resources. The story part is the principle job of the teacher, the study part is primarily the job of the students, although some presentations involve an introduction of information by the teacher as well," p.34

*History is taught first with story, then with the making of a clock or timeline (such as the Clock of Eons, Timeline of Life, and Timeline of Humans), p.36

*When materials are used during a lesson or story, cover them with a black cloth to provoke mystery and suspense, p.44

*"It was only because of these billions of years of star life and death that the fragile conditions for life were created on this speck of rock we call home. We are the children of the universe," p.62

*Although the works with scientific names and classifications of life seem complex and daunting, they are not meant o be in depth studies like that they will receive in high school, merely a glance at what they will study in the future, and more importantly, a foundation for the appreciation of evolution. (It is important that while students are learning, teachers don't force regurgitation of facts), p. 91

*Students learn about early humans and evolution to current humans to learn that humans are animals, but also to consider real, physical differences between humans and other animals, p.106

*"The recognition that people in very different places in the world and in very ancient times all had the same needs that we have today is a deeply spiritual insight for children on the fundamental unity of all human beings," p.117

*Teach history not through the use of national boundaries. Humans are ll related--the world itself should be the only boundary, p.122

*"To attain true peace, she [Montessori] wrote, "We must create a different sort of man in order to have a different sort of society,'" p.127 (Montessori, Education and Peace)

*"Montessori students are taught to see themselves as citizens of the world, a species within the family of living species on Earth and, ultimately, as descendants of the universe," p.128

*"In a 1936 address to the European Congress for Peace meeting in Brussels, Montessori summed up her position: 'Preventing conflicts is the work of politics, establishing peace is the work of education,'" p.130

*"So why teach Cosmic Education? Montessori would answer that we must teach in this way so the children of today can understand more fully who they are and grow up to create a new kind of society, one in which peace is based on an understandin of the fundamental unity of humanity," p.130


Read more about the Great Lessons from Montessori for Everyone or Miss Barbara's website.

Read more about Cosmic Education from The North American Montessori Teacher Training blog or the Rose Hill Montessori school in Boise, Idaho website.

Buy Children of the Universe on Amazon.

Book Review: Children Who Are Not Yet Peaceful

K recommended Children Who Are Not Yet Peaceful to me when I first started volunteering at her school, and I must say, I am incredibly thankful she did. Donna Bryant Goertz shares 19 stories from her Austin, Texas Montessori school in her 2001-released book. Each chapter describes a student that could have been (and in many cases were) not properly cared for in a traditional school, but through interventions, time, and love, Donna, almost miraculously, turns every situation around. It was my first glance into what makes the Montessori method so very wonderful, and I found it more inspiring than any other education book I have read.

Donna's classroom, like Montessori classrooms across the globe, is made up of six- to nine-year olds that have learned to help and rely on each other with little assistance from the adults in the room. They solve problems on their own, speak politely and respectfully to one another, and only involve an adult if there is a problem that they can't resolve together. They are learning to become independent, self-functioning children.

Donna also helps her students before they even enter the door by explaining to parents what is most beneficial to them while they are at home: little tv and video game time, ample encouragement and love, healthy food, and reading together every night. She insists that none of her students, despite circumstances, are on medication, as it interferes with their growing minds and bodies.

Having established these two important prerequisites, a classroom where students can thrive and a caring home life, Donna welcomes, throughout the chapters, children with many different complicated situations into her classroom. She describes with great illustration the struggles of each child, and then details how, with what seems to be ease but may merely be patience, she leads them to overcome. A child that purposely destroyed is guided to make creative and artistic messes, a child that lied is guided to tell the truth, and children with aggression are guided into a calm.

When I read Children Who Are Not Yet Peaceful, I was reminded in every chapter how little public school teachers actually help their students to overcome problems. They have so little time and so much to do (testing and paperwork and whole-class lessons that only half the class understands) that solving every students struggles is an impossible task. We build a temporary fix for the school year, caulk the growing hole in a dam, until we can send them off to the next teacher, to the next grade level, and let them fix things.

A few of the chapters even reminded me of children I work with now as a para. When I realized that I was seeing my students in the characters, my heart began to break. My students could benefit so much from the Montessori method, but I realized then that it was impossible to hope that for them. Donna lives states away, and Montessori schools are far more expensive than these Title I students' parents can afford. Even then, it is probably too late to reach the students I fear for, some of which will be graduating 5th grade in just weeks.

I knew, after reading about Donna's successes, that it was up to me. I may not be able to do much as a para, but when I enter the classroom with my degree, I pledge to be different. I pledge not to let any solvable struggles pass me by. Using the Montessori method as a beginning to my guide, I will use love and patience to reach all of my students. I will guide my students to become self-reliant and respectful. And for those children who are not yet peaceful, I will find the time to somehow lead them to calm.


Read a few chapters from Donna's book on Google Books
and then buy it on Amazon.

A Missed Opportunity in The Montessori Language

Today was the first day of gardening at my Montessori school, and everyone was very excited. A had stepped out to buy a few more things we needed before we began, but some of us were a bit too excited to wait. "Andrew," K's son (it's so weird to make up names! Haha!), a first year, asked several times to get his shovel from the shed, and when the answer was still, "No," he began to get frustrated. K was sitting in a chair helping a student organize her work, and Andrew, in anger, pushed with all his might on the K's chair, perhaps it was to knock her out of it, but at least he wasn't pushing her, I suppose. "Andrew, please go the the peace pillow right now," was the response he got from her, and he obediently stormed to the corner where the pillow was waiting for him.

A returned soon with all of the supplies, and Andrew was able to join his classmates in bringing them in from the car. He was clearly still not at his best, but I could tell he was working hard on keeping his emotions under control. The first thing that needed to be done was assembling the wheel barrow from the box. There were two bolts that screwed the handles to the body, four students this day, but only one wrench to get the nuts onto the bolts. Two students took turns screwing the nut onto one side, and then K began to work on the other.

"Can I have a turn with the wrench?" Andrew asked K.

"Yes, in a moment."

She had been working on it for a moment already, and kept working as she spoke. The bolt wasn't very long, and Andrew wouldn't get a very long turn if she kept going. "Shelly," K's daughter, the oldest of the class, a third year, must have noticed this at the same time I did, for she giggled and said something to the effect of, "You'll get one turn, Andrew. You only asked for a turn!"

Just then, a thought came into my mind: Shelly, Andrew is feeling frustrated right now, so we need to be especially gentle towards him.

But I didn't speak. I did not say these kind words that had formed in my mind, and the moment quickly passed.

At first, I was frustrated at myself for not speaking. This was a time to step up and say something helpful towards people that needed guidance, and I did not provide the guidance, though I had the guidance to give. How terrible of me to keep peaceful thoughts towards others to myself when others would have benefited more from them.

In hindsight, however, I might have been too hard on myself. I have only been in this environment for a short while, and I can't be expected to master the kind way of the Montessori language immediately. At this time, it is enough to merely have these words in my mind. Next time, I will speak them.

Andrew, thankfully, did not respond to his sister's remark. He gave her a short, angry stare, kept his mouth closed, and let it pass.

Montessori Experience--pt II

About a month and a half ago, I was accepted into a volunteer position at a nearby Montessori school. Since then, I have experienced an educational environment I had no idea existed and have learned so much. Everything about Montessori is still so new to me, and I have been hesitant to write about it for fear of stereotyping parts of the teaching method, theory, or school because of my limited exposure. Finally, after six weeks of volunteering my four hours, I feel ready to start putting what I observe into words. I am so thankful to the director, "K." for allowing me to have this experience.

K. must have thought it strange when in our first emails to each other, I made reference to her "teachers." Before my first visit, when I imagined a hypothetical Montessori school in my mind, I pictured something similar to the public schools I have worked at as a paraeducator, similar to the schools I went to when I was younger. I had no concept, besides the odd ideas of Waldorf schools I had briefly researched, of a school with so few students and teachers. There is another Montessori school in the city where I live that seems, from what I have heard, to be as large as what I had imagined, but the school where I volunteer, which is in it's first year, has only K., the director, and A., (an assistant? I haven't asked, but she is mostly there when I am, coming and going some of the time on errands) as teachers for the six students, two of which are K.'s children. There is another teacher I have met a couple of times who is the head of the early education division, on the opposite side small building. I do not know much about the early education, because they do not meet on Fridays, the only day I am there. I remember that when I was learning about Waldorf, I found it so strange that the teacher of those schools stayed with her students throughout their elementary years, but after having experienced my Montessori school for a while and having read a little more about Montessori schools in general, it seems only natural in this environment.

Almost immediately upon my first visit, I noticed how much emphasis the students put on manners. When I sat down at the table during lunchtime, (a thought never contemplated in public schools!), they told me that they were "practicing polite table conversation," an idea adorable and novel to me at the time. Politeness and consideration is prevalent in all areas, but it is not strictly reinforced, as in families that have strict, written rules and punishments. In fact, the school has no written rules that I have seen, only gentle, oral reminders of what is expected, and the only punishment that has been given while with me present has been, "Please go sit for a little while on the peace pillow," a big pillow in the quiet library section of the building, merely a chance for the student to catch her breath and settle herself. Without strict rules and punishment, students are allowed to explore their actions, view the reactions of others, and decide for themselves how they wish to act. That being said, the students at my Montessori school are (for the most part) extremely well behaved.

Another thing I realized after only a few visits was that Montessori students seem to need a lot less physical attention than I am used to. At the public schools I have worked at, there are little ones that attach themselves to me immediately, even after having just met me. It's a sort of gradual effect, actually. A couple immediately love you, a few only need a short amount of days before they are comfortable with you, some need only a month or so, and then, of course, there are the ones that take a lot of time and effort to warm up to strangers. Nevertheless, I have come to expect receiving a sudden hug at some point or another from every one of the public school children I work with. But even after six weeks, I have not seen any affection from my Montessori students apart from tone of voice and facial expression. That's not to say that it bothers me, it's just something that I find curious.

There are a few explanations I have mused on for why this is. The first is the amount of non-physical attention received in the classroom. With 20-30 students in the public school classroom, it's hard to address each one as often as they'd like. Because they get fewer chances to speak to a teacher, they might show their affection in quick hugs. Montessori students (at least, the ones I have observed), on the other hand, have a teacher available almost literally whenever they need her. Because they can talk to her whenever they have something to say, they need less of a physical expression.

Or perhaps the parents of Montessori students treat their children on a higher, more mature level than public school parents. After being able to solve problems on their own and live day-to-day becoming more independent, the children need less and less physical affection, at least from strangers.

One last idea, I'm almost afraid to voice (and please don't think me heartless for saying so!), assuming that Montessori students come from financially better off families than public school students, and thus presupposing that their families are more frequently able to show their children physical affection, they would not require as much from strangers. It does sound horrible to say, doesn't it! I hope this is not the case, but it is something I have mused on.

Anyway, more about Montessori later. I have a coffee date with K. in a couple of days, and I hope she will shed some light on some other questions I have so that I will feel comfortable sharing them.

Montessori Experience--pt I

I have been speaking with the director of a new local Montessori school through email for the past couple of weeks. I told her I was interested in volunteering, and she replied that she would love to have anyone interested in Montessori. So today I went for an interview. Having done very little research on Montessori (it's still on my to-do list), I had no idea what to expect.

The school was brand new, hidden behind a maze of miscellaneous office buildings, camouflaged with its neighbors, bearing no brightly colored school sign like one would expect. It didn't even have a somber-colored sign, no attempts to mark this building as a place of learning what-so-ever. Beginning to doubt that I was in the right place at all, I finally noticed a few small, colorful paper snowflakes in a far, dark window giving the identity of the unknown building away.

The entry way of the school was a tiny, security enhanced room that sounded a "Front door open" alarm when I arrived. It had two doors on either side leading in. I later learned that one was to the elementary side while the other was to the early childhood side. Both were shut, and finding no buzzer to push to announce myself, I wondered what to do. I didn't have to wait long; the director, having heard the door alarm, soon came to greet me.

On the inside, the school was a large, open room, learning materials organized neatly against the walls, low tables and chairs to the sides, a big colorful carpet in the center, everything cleaned to the expectations of a surgery room. There was a courtyard in the center of the school, where, I was told, vegetables and plants would be grown in the spring, and a large, fenced-in yard around the back perimeter for a playground. In the back of the building was a kitchen for learning for the elementary students and a shared library in the process of being filled. I understand that the school had been open for less than a year, but I couldn't believe how clean and perfect everything looked. The children all had their shoes off, showing their tiny socked-feed, and the three adults wore slippers. I felt awkward for having kept my shoes on, although I was not told to remove them.

The director showed me around the building, introduced me to a few key learning materials, and then we sat at one of the low tables while the seven students (one-third of a normal class-size, they didn't have many families sign up. There were four first-years, two second-years, and one third-year, the director's daughter, no one over the age of eight), who had been learning with the teacher on the carpet when I arrived, ate lunch at the long table at the other side of the room.

The children seemed intellectual, while still child-like and silly, of course, and the two teachers (the director and the teacher I saw when I came in, the other I only saw briefly--the early childhood teacher?) seemed amiable enough. The environment, however, struck me as more like a home than a classroom. Because the student-to-teacher ratio was so low, the students seemed more like children at their own home, rather than at a school. They were addressed quickly whenever they had a question, they were allowed to learn whatever they wanted (this group was fond of science, and a few had taken up crocheting), they were reprimanded easily (one boy had poured a glass of someone else's soy milk and was told he must drink it because he had already drank from the glass today), even the fact that they all ran around in socks, it was like being home-schooled by someone other than your parents (with the exception of the director's daughter).

The director asked if teaching Montessori was a future goal at the moment, to which I had to admit, it is not. When I started my education career, I told myself that the best place I could be is at a Title I public school, reaching out to as many students that need a positive role model in their lives as possible. I had considered teaching in a private school, back when I was considering teaching English, because I wasn't sure if I would be able to handle public school children. However, having now worked at a public school for a year, I realize that it is where I belong and where I can make the biggest difference. Every day when I walk into a classroom at Griffith, I am greeted with 20 small bodies that depend on me and their teachers to grow. A lot of them don't have anyone else they can rely on, anyone else that tells them that they are smart, capable people that are special and really matter in the world. They need that. At the Montessori school today, I met seven children whose parents care the world for them, read to them at night, and probably hug them constantly. I know that they need the devoted attention their parents pay good money for them to have, but I feel like I have bigger problems to attend to: the kindergartener that doesn't know his letters, the first grader that doesn't talk to any teacher, the third grader whose mother was taken back to jail last night.

I would love to explore Montessori. I want to spend as much time volunteering as they need me. But I don't think that it holds much future for me besides gaining experience in different fields of education and in learning new techniques to take back to my own students.

The director said she would call after she contacted my references as to if she had a position for me. I just have to shake that awkward feeling that every adult there was afraid for me to touch anything, lest I get my dirty public school hands on them.