It makes a couple of months. It was Saturday, almost eight in the morning, cold of autumn, and I was anxious. For three hours we would receive children in an almost perfect room. Almost all materials were well willing, many plants, tables and chairs here and there, enough space for the fifteen children who would come. There were only two problems: I didn’t know any of them, and they were all used to an application of Montessori who gave in in some ways in which, that day, we would not give in. In our room there would be no paper, break, snack time, wheel\u2026 and I knew nothing about who was coming there. Only some of the children represented challenges for the teaching staff. Which, I left me (not) find out. I don’t need to tell details of how it went. Almost all of you who follow this blog know what a first day looks like. I just want to write about two children. Details will be changed to preserve identities. The stories you almost know too. They are not uncommon, and they will only be an illustration.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The day began and he arrived, resurfaced and with large eyes, the hair shaking as he hugged his father, half uncertain. It only entered after I introduced myself and asked to take the label with your name. When I asked what I wanted to work with, he chose a practical life activity and for about ten minutes he gave her to her. It is not the concentration of the century, but it is a quiet beginning of the day, no doubt. And quiet was the rest of the day. About three times I saw him wandering aimlessly around the room, in one I managed to offer work, in the other he arranged himself with a colleague, and in the third I do not know. He was again, with a colleague, dismantling the reading area and I interrupted, for a time of less and too confident, which made them change his attitude, but soon returned to what they were doing, and the excellent assistant of the room was the one who solved the situation in the end. Moreover, he painted, drew (two concessions that we decided to do), worked with practical life and sensory materials, forgot and did not forget rugs behind him, and ended the day in peace, playing in the open area of \u200b\u200bthe school.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
In parallel, she also arrived. Even larger eyes, the mouth pouting that didn’t spend almost all morning (only in a short moment, when I think it almost smiled, after staying a long time with a jar and three glasses with water). Thinking of retrospective, it was almost a fear on that round face. She came in (and I knew something just about her: I ran and took work from others. I didn’t prepare for either thing on purpose) and also took her label – after two or three reminders. Under suggestion, he chose a work of practical life, stood in him for fifteen, twenty, I lost her how many minutes, and then a very small cup fell and broke. It didn’t move much. He continued the activity as if the glass was still there, wetting the table. I gave her a disposable glass, collected the glass, gave him a cloth, was ten or twelve minutes. Amended with another activity of practical life. He needed a brief interruption to avoid making batteries with the glasses on the jar, he remained firm for minutes and minutes. Relaxed. Managed to interact with his colleagues. He worked-girlo-to-the-time, was interrupted, almost spoiled a material, was interrupted\u2026 and the material was taken from the room after the third interruption. No revolt. No anguish. He sought more than doing, and did. And until the end of the day did. And then, in the last forty minutes, running out of open air was too much for her, and she was already playing “phone buttons” around the room, making sounds with her lips again in beak. In the park rested, in the trampoline, while other children jumped and she only felt her body. He went home in peace.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
After the end of the day, all the children returned to their families, I talked to the more than fifteen teachers who attended all this sitting around the room. The girl’s teacher said she works focused even when she chooses a material. But I had never seen her spend a day quiet. He had never seen her do not interrupt a colleague, not fight for attention or objects. Meeting the guidelines so promptly – which I confess, didn’t seem so ready. In short, she had never been so good in the room. Moreover, this girl had conquered the nearly resistance of her teachers. He ran for school day after day, fought, resisted almost everything, refused to follow any suggestion.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But I was much more surprised by the little girl’s story. He, who was quiet almost all morning, who followed almost all the guidelines as if the will were his own, not mine, who worked with quiet and rested painting and drawing in peace\u2026 He hit his colleagues daily, bite systematically, and was the target of constant attention and constant challenges at school.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The boy did not hit, did not want to hit, did not come close to hitting aThe only time. He was peace and helplessness. With a few more days, I would find in Montessori the oasis that every child deserves to have in life. And the girl\u2026 Well, she found on the first day. Your answer, not leaving the room running once, through a constantly free gateway to all children, and their response when leaving and returns to the room, communicated enough. And from two and a half hours when it remained in the room, for two hours remained in almost total tranquility, needing the same adult presence that many children need at the beginning, and no longer.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
What will it be? What does Montessori have so much that in minutes, that upon entering the room, the child discovers peace? What is a completed montessorian room with adults and materials so obvious to the spirit that a child in despair and aggression finds that peace there is possible and desirable? What is this room to hold, for three hours and hard work, another boy of whom I have not spoken, and who is not at peace for thirty minutes normally?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I don’t know where to start, but I understand who says there is anything miracle. There is no. But it really looks. And these three hours were revolutionary. Not because I didn’t know Montessori or the transformations that Montessori makes. But because this time I didn’t know who I needed them most, and purposely didn’t want to know. What we did at the three o’clock on that fall Saturday, it was just Montessori, without taking or – actually putting the human failures that fit us – and watch, right, miracle that was announced with each new minute.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Finally, I want to make a request to you, to the heart of your chest that yearns for a better world: take nothing, put nothing. Create nothing. It doesn’t change almost anything until you are very sure of your change. Repeat. Repeat what more than a century has been repeating, and one by one, mind, peace, and why do I not say?
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Note: I know it’s not like that every day, with all children and all teachers. The idea of \u200b\u200bthis text is not to make you feel very bad because today your day was not so. I’ve had days to leave the room – to go to the window because I couldn’t leave the room – and cry. Crossing these days was and is essential for my transformation. The request continues: Let’s repeat, day by day, what is done for over a century. And it is so, one by one, that we will help our children find life.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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