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When one thinks of Montessori education, one usually pictures orderly shelves filled with gleaming, handmade materials that beckon invitingly to the child's sensorial appetites - child-sized furniture, red and blue rods, golden beads, cylinder blocks, metal insets, movable alphabets, geometric shapes, three-part cards. Of course, such materials are valuable and good, but are they what makes education truly Montessori? Are they absolutely necessary? I believe not. It is possible, without too much trouble, to turn a home into an effectively functioning Montessori classroom because the Montessori is, first and foremost, a method, and only secondarily, particular materials. In such an endeavor, a Catholic home has distinct advantages over a non-Catholic home because our Faith teaches us spiritual realities through the use of concrete signs, symbols, rituals and sacramentals. This incarnational approach to education is the heart of the Montessori method. Montessori discovered, and based her method on the fact that children not only learn, but actually build themselves, from the inside out, through the activities in which they engage. The more noble the activity, the more noble the product. The only indispensable materials for a Montessori education are these: a child and an adult who loves and is sensitive to that child's genuine needs. In addition, the adult must understand and observe a few basic principles, and voila! the home becomes a Montessori classroom. I came to this conclusion, slowly, over many years, and it seems useful to share some of the details of that long process with other homeschooling families. The biggest stumbling block I encountered along the way were my own misconceptions about education and my prejudies about the child and his true needs. I first heard the name Montessori about twenty-five years ago from my older sister, Margaret Dornay. I had called Margaret in near hysteria one day to relate a story about my oldest daughter, Ilona. In response to my frantic description, Margaret used words I had never heard before - "a perfect Montessori child", "prepared environment", "normalization", "absorbent mind", "sense of order", etc. She gave me the names of several books on Montessori education that I hurriedly scribbled down. I definitely wanted to know more. Here is what I had observed. Ilona was about 15 months old. She was a petite little girl who seemed bright beyond her years (months!) and she was forever keeping me on my toes. That particular afternoon I was only a few days away from delivering our second daughter, Moira, and I was hoping to get a few moments rest. I put a pile of toys on the bedroom floor to keep Illona busy, and I crawled into bed. I must have dozed of for a moment, because when I opened my eyes, I heard her little feet trotting down the hall toward my room. When she entered, she was carrying an enormous wooden-handled spoon from our barbecue set. In the spoon were several chunks of dried dog food. Ilona carefully worked her way down the two steps into the room - without spilling a crumb - and headed toward the closet. She went straight to her father's tall black police boots and emptied the spoon. Without missing a beat, she turned and headed up the stairs again. In a few minutes she was back with another spoonful. This was repeated over and over again until the boot was full! And all the while, a look of intense concentration and determined effort never left her little face. Not once did she turn and look at me to see what I thought of her activity. She was totally absorbed in what she was doing - and so was I. It was almost heartbreaking - in a strange sort of way - to see such a tiny person so totally engaged in a task. I sensed that something of great importance was taking place, but I had no words to decribe it. After topping off the boot with the final spoonful, she paused for a fewmoments. It was obvious she was admiring her work. I heard a tiny sigh of contentment and then she was off again. This time she returned with a large potato in her spoon! After depositing only three or four potatoes, she reached down inside the boot to see how full it was, then gave a little giggle. I interpreted this as delight in seeing how quickly this boot was filling up compared with her earlier efforts. When she finally finished, she came and got in bed beside me and curled up to nap. But there was no way I could have slept. I was practically in tears, but I had no idea why. What had been so moving about watching my little girl so totally absorbed? That's when I picked up the phone and called Margaret. I eventually read all the books she recommended and learned many fine things, but tuition at a Montessori school was not within our budget, so I impatiently waited. (And here is where I was unable to shed a narrow-minded preconception about education.) Even after witnessing what Ilona had done, I foolishly imagined that Montessori education only took place in a classroom. A second event occurred a couple years later when we finally moved from California back to Seattle. Moira was then two years old. Unlike her older sister, Moira was much slower to develop. She did everything late and when she did it, she didn't do it very well. She had a bubbly, cheerful personality, but physically she was very clumsy. Her uncles even made bets about how many times she would stumble before she made it across the room. We were looking forward to returning to Seatle, especially since Margaret had a Montessori preschool in her basement that I hoped the girls could attend. The very day we arrived, Margaret took me on a tour of the classroom. Moira was with us. On entering the classroom, and without saying a word, Margaret took a tray of colored beads and little bowls, off the shelf, and placed it on a small table. She pulled out a tiny chair, silently inviting Moira to join her. Margaret picked up a pair of tweezers and focused intently on the beads. First she picked up a blue bead and placed it in one of the bowls. Next she picked up a yellow bead and placed it in a second bowl. Then a read bead. Finally, she picked up a second blue bead and held it next to the bowl with a yellow bead inside. She considered the two beads carefully, slowly shook her head, and moved the tweezered bead to the bowl with the red bead. Again she considered carefully and shook her head. Then she moved the tweezers to the bowl with the blue bead, looked at the comparison and smiled. Then she looked at Moira, who nodded solemnly. Margaret gently placed the bead in the bowl and handed the tweezers to Moira. For the next fifteen minutes Margaret and I watched breathlessly as Moira's pudgy little hands painstakingly struggled to manipulate the tweezers and carefully sort through the beads - pinching and comparing and deciding and dropping - over and over and over again until each bead was in its proper place. It was a supreme effort of concentration and coordination. Finished, Moira sat back in her chair and sighed the same sigh of contentment that I had heard from Ilona after she filled her father's boot with potatoes. In her work with both normal and mentally disabled children, Montessori observed an identical sequence - intense interest and activity on the child's part, careful and consistent effort to complete an activity, and a deep sense of satisfaction upon finishing a task. Montessori observed that repeated experiences of this kind enabled the child to grow and develop at a faster and more even pace in all areas - physical, intellectual, emotional and spiritual. Hoping to provide regular opportunities for such experience for my two daughters, I immediatley enrolled them in Margaret's school. In trade for their tuition, I helped out in the classroom and learned how to "make Montessori materials." I eventually attended the Montessori Studies Center at Seattle University and completed the training for six to nine-year-olds. With that background, I set to work on creating a Catholic Montessori curriculum. (Sadly, the Catholic aspects of Montessori education had been left on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean when her methods first came to the United States.) It was all very exciting at the time, but in looking back, I realize that at the time, my vision of education, and of how Montessori principles apply to education, were very narrow indeed. Twenty-five years later, I see things quite differently, I believe that a Montessori education has more to do with the attitude and sensitivity of the adult than it does with the particular materials available. It is also helpful to remember that most of Montessori's early discoveries were made while working with institutionalized children who had no home and family of their own. Her success with such children was indeed remarkable. But her success with ordinary school children was even greater. Therefore, conscientious homeschooling parents who utilize some of her methods can expect even greater results. The Prepared Environment Some of the details of a prepared environment were mentioned in the description of a Montessori classroom in the opening paragraph. They had to do with the elaborate collection of learning materials that are associated with Montessori education. I am confident that Montessori herself would agree with me when I say that particular materials with exact specifications are not mandatory for success. However, certain basic principles must be understood and observed. The first principle is what Montessori calls the prepared environment. This is both a place and an opportunity in which the child can develop and grow according to his own individual needs. In my opinion, a home fits this definition better than the most elaborately equipped classroom because the home is supremely capable of meeting the deepest and most essential needs of the human person - faith and love. When those two "subjects" are well taught, the rest comes much more easily, but without them, even the finest education is quite worthless. We can best prepare our homes to be centers of learning by remembering to base our educational approach on the two-fold reality of man - that he is both body and spirit. What the child does with his body determines who he is in his soul - and the younger the child, the more crucial is this point. God wrote the original curriculum into our nature; Montessori was just observant enough to discern it and imitate Him. She reasoned that the Church uses such physical things as incense, holy water, bells, colors, music, genuflection, procession, and vestments, to teach us about the Faith; that God Himself chose to communicate with us by becoming flesh, that He gave His own Body and Blood, and commanded the Apostles to, "Do this in memory of Me"; therefore, her educational method would do likewise. Thus, Montessori designed her classroom activities with a higher goal in mind. She had hand-washing exercises in her classroom as a preparatino for holy water in Church. She had flower arranging in order to prepare for decorating the altar each season. Setting the table prepared the child for setting out the items used at Mass. Counting from one to ten prepared a child for the rosary. Grace and courtesy exercises schooled him in love of neighbor. Walking on the line was preparation for processions, and the silence game prepared the child for prayer. Through the practice of physical activities, children are prepared for a deeper spiritual life. St. Thomas Aquinas expresses this reality beautifully when he says, "Grace builds on nature." It is also imperative to a properly prepared environment that all bad or disturbing influences (anything negative that addresses any of the senses) be removed. This would include television, rock music, bad language, general sloppiness, tacky religious art, even puzzles with missing pieces or poor quality pencils. Children Learn by Doing The second point to keep in mind is that children learn by doing. This concept is very closely linked to the principle of a prepared environment. It is the prepared environment whic both provides and allows for the activity that is so essential to a child's mode of learning. The child's mental and emotional growth are intimately linked to his physical activity and experience. All mothers have seen the delight a toddler exhibits when first learning to climb the stairs. And many mothers have exhausted themselves following the little one up and down for hours on end. But how many mothers realize the deep significance of such activity? For the toddler, stair-climbing builds a sense of self-sufficiency, confirms the ability to overcome difficulties, broadens visual perspective of his world, and increases physical coordination and strength. Two more primitive, but vastly more fundamental examples of the linik between physical activity and normal development can be found in the infants' sucking urge and in his need for touch. It is a well recognized fact that infants who are deprived of sucking suffer in their intellectual development; and infants who are deprived of routine touch can, completely apart from any disease, waste away and die. Sensitive Periods Another Montessori principle that parents must obseve is that of sensitive periods. This means that at particular times in his development, a child is more sensitive to the acquisition of certain kinds of knowledge or skill, and that this knowledge is best acquired through particular kinds of activity. This concept applies to the entire person - physical, social, intellectual and spiritual. For example, the sensitive period for language is from birth to two. For optimum development, a child's environment must be rich in language experiences during these years. Severe deprivation will result in permanent damage to the language faculty. From about two-and-a-half to four years, the child is in his sensitive period for order. He insists that all things be done correctly - that is, in the way he wants them done (like tying shoes, having precisely the right fork, not starting to say Grace without him, etc.) Such demands, though frustrating for the adult, should not be interpreted as willful behavior that must be corrected. Rather, it should be recognized that the child has a strong sense of order, and this sense should be guided toward noble ends through patient cooperation and purposeful activity. The sensitive period for moral order develops parallel to the age of reason. While this particular phase can manifest itself in such annoying habits as chronic tattle-telling and criticism of others, these negative behaviors can be turned into opportunities to practice forgiveness, charity, self-control and good example. Because our fallen nature allows us to see the faults of others much more clearly than we see our own, this period provides the perfect opportunity to help the child toward self-examination, to teach him the Ten Commandments, and to prepare him for First Confession. Montessori again gives credit to the teaching method of the Chuch when she recognizes that the various sensitive periods of the spiritual life are each met by a particular sacramental grace. In other words, our Church is the most effective "prepared environment" for the growth and development of a child's religious being. We ought to think of our homes as little atriums that prepare the child for his entry in the Church; and we ought to look at the Church as an atrium that prepares each one of us for our life in Heaven. We do not need an elaborate classroom to accomplish this. To meet the physical needs of a small child, materials can be as simple as a large spoon and a bag of dog food. To develop eye-hand coordination one can begin with a few bowls of colored beads and a pair of tweezers. To enrich a child's budding spiritual life, place a font of holy water by the front door and by his bed; hang beautiful icons on his bedroom wall; provide child-sized replicas of the vessels used at Mass; give him beads to string into a rosary, or clay to form into a statue of Jesus. Once the basic concepts of a prepared environment, learning by doing, and an appreciation of sensitive periods are understood, motivated parents can apply the concepts to all subject areas and do much to provide a Montessori education at home. |
| Additional Reading: Look at the Child by Aline Wolf, Parent Child Press, 1978, P.O. Box 767 Altoona, PA 16603. This small black and white picture book very beautifully distills the essential points of a Montessori attitude. The Child in the Church edited by E.M. Standing, Liturgical Press, 1967. Out of print for thirty years, there are still a few copies floating around. Some material is dated, and a few phrases sound ominously New Age, but the basic ideas are very Catholic. The Absorbent Mind by Maria Montessori. This book deals with the sensitive periods from birth to three. It has gone through many editions, is available in paper back and is probably available in every public library system. The Religious Potential of the Child by Sofia Cavalletti, Liturgy Training Publications, 1992. Chronicles the experience of two Italian women who developed a Montessori-based approach to religious education called the Catechesis of the Good Shepherd. Teaching Montessori in the Home by Elizabeth Hainstock. This work is in two volumes: Vol. 1 deal with preschool children and Vol. 2 with early elementary. Both include clear directions for making materials, arranging the home, and forming the teacher. Maria Montessori: Her Life and Work by E. Mortimer Standing. This is Montessori's official biography, written by a faithful student and convert to Catholicism. It provides an inspiring look at a very interesting woman. |
| Seattle-based homeschooler Julia Fogassy publishes Catholic homeschooling materials which are available from Our Father's House. This article first appeared in Advent 1997 edition of the Catholic Home Educator. It used here with permission. |
