Making Choices

The Children's House is coming to the end of week five and as we prepare to enter into week 6, one of the elements that I am observing with the children is what they choose and how they choose.
 
It can be a challenge to recognize the difference between what is a conscious choice, one in which a child is aware of what the outcome is, versus an impulsive choice or a choice that is just busy work. While this is not to say that an impulsive choice or busy work cannot eventually lead to a discovery of one's interests or the development of a skill that will prepare their self for that moment when they do discover their interests, the conscious choices are what lead to repetition and an interior satisfaction.

Decision making is a complex process that we follow all through our lives. When we make a choice, it is about setting ourselves a goal and being able to carry it through. Sometimes we make choices and we are not able to finish it, even though we want to. This could be a lack of skill, lack of perseverance, or could be a lack of focus and too many distractions. It is the same for the children in the classroom.
 
This week the children arrived in the classroom there were no stools set out for walking on the line. But the littlest ones came in to the classroom, and began to set up the stools all around the ellipse, sat down and looked at me expectantly... They were clearly expecting that I would begin the music for walking on the line. So I did. As the older ones arrived and joined in, soon all of the class was on the ellipse walking, marching, galloping or processing, depending on the rhythm offered by the music.

As I let out our group afterward, I invited the children to start their day, but without any suggested choices. I pulled up photos from Transparent Classroom of each child. I said, "which of these activities would you like to choose this morning?" Each child was thrilled to see a photo of themselves and chose something from one of the photos. The next day, the same thing happened. No stools were set up, but the children arrived, set them up and wanted the music for walking on the line. When we were finished and I dismissed the group, I asked each of them, what is your favorite material in the whole classroom? Start your day with your favorite! By Wednesday, I was able to say how would you like to start your day? And each child had some idea of what they would like to do, and went about choosing and therefore, enjoying. 
 
Last week both Miss Becky and Mr. Short wrote excellent posts in the weekly update on repetition in the environment, which I encourage you to go back and read if you haven't. It is through repetition that children establish a routine for the day, pay attention to the details of their work, develop focus and an ability to ignore distractions, develop executive function skills, persevere through difficult tasks, and most importantly, develop interests and skill sets that will further themselves along in their journey through childhood.

Observation

“To be able to observe, the human’s mind must be clear, the soul must be open, and the body must be willing.” (Maria Teresa “Chacha” Vidales)
 
In Montessori, you'll frequently hear about the importance of the adult observing. But what exactly does observation mean in its truest sense?
 
Observation is an art that allows us to continuously evolve, shaping our perception of the world and our place within it. It goes beyond simply seeing – it's an active, engaged process that leads to meaningful outcomes. Unlike sight, which can be influenced by preconceived notions, genuine observation is anchored in the present moment. As life is in a constant state of change, observation helps us appreciate the ever-evolving nature of existence.
 
When we observe without bias, we open ourselves to seeing the world through the eyes of others, particularly the child, who reveals the intricate paths of their development. Each moment becomes a fresh opportunity to perceive the essence of the child anew. Our dedication to observation is a gift to the child and a reflection of our own journey toward self-awareness and growth.
 
Becoming a skilled observer takes consistent effort, repetition, and practice – it’s a lifelong process that requires us to step out of our comfort zones and embrace the dynamic nature of reality. To observe fully, we must quiet our minds, allowing our authentic selves to connect with the present moment.
 
To become an adept observer, the inner preparation of the adult is needed. Inner preparation of the adult involves more than just having tools or focus; it requires an internal readiness to truly perceive what is in front of us. While setting up the physical environment is straightforward, preparing ourselves mentally and emotionally takes more effort. This internal work is essential, as we must be fully present, both mentally and physically, to establish a meaningful connection between the child and the environment.
 
We cannot offer what we do not possess. Understanding and fulfilling our own needs allows us to better support the child. By practicing observation and setting aside biases, we enable the child to develop independently. Observation helps us recognize the child’s evolving developmental path and adapt our guidance accordingly.
 
Our role is to observe deeply and quietly, remaining fully present with the child and creating a nurturing environment. Humility is key – observation fosters our own growth and strengthens our connection with the child. Keeping an observation journal helps build this skill through practice.
 
We must also embrace our own growth, letting go of past mistakes, and understanding that perfection is not the goal. The aim is to continually improve and restore our innate capacity for observation, which modern life often diminishes. In doing so, we foster deeper connections with the child and the world around us. Patience and grace are essential. The child seeks not a perfect adult but one who is striving to offer their best.
 
With that being said, observation is one of the most important works of the adult. It allows us to fully understand and perceive the child. There are three types of observation:

1. Self-observation: By turning our attention inward, we improve our ability to observe others effectively. Keeping a journal can be a valuable tool for articulating our thoughts and clearing biases. This practice helps us move forward without the burden of self-criticism or preconceived notions. Just as we observe children with openness and clarity, we must apply the same scrutiny to ourselves, examining who we are and our role in life.

2. Observing children (Direct): We should aim to be unnoticed, remaining quiet and still to avoid drawing the child's attention. Avoiding direct eye contact helps maintain the child's focus. Simple outfits, free of flashy accessories or jewelry, minimize distractions. Deliberate and mindful movement is also essential. Staying fully alert during observation is key. Focus solely on what is in front of you and record observations by hand, without rewriting, to capture the essence of the moment.

3. Interacting observations (Indirect): Observing while actively working requires practice. This challenge is particularly strong at the start of the year, when children are still adjusting to the environment. Mario Montessori emphasized the teacher's "sixth sense" for knowing what happens behind their back, highlighting the importance of observing even while engaged in other tasks. Record-keeping is important for tracking observations over time, as it provides insights into the children’s progress and needs, especially when it’s easier to observe the materials than the children directly.

In the Young Children’s House, it is essential that all adults in the environment are actively observing, especially during the early days of the school year when the children are still adjusting to their surroundings. I recently had the privilege of sitting down for a direct observation (being a "fly on the wall"), allowing me to witness the magic of real time development. Although the children had only been in school for a month, I was captivated by their ability to show concentration, empathy, and growth – so much happening in such a short time for children aged 16 months to 2 ½ years.
 
One moment that deeply touched me was when I saw a child retrieve a tissue. He carefully walked across the room, and I watched, wondering what his intent was. He approached another child, who was busy climbing up and down the stairs, and who had mucus running from her nose. He seemed unsure whether to hand her the tissue or perhaps wipe her nose himself, but after some deliberation, he went to an adult for assistance, signaling his desire to help his friend. This small, yet profound act of empathy reminded me of how important it is to observe without preconceived notions. Had I approached the situation with assumptions, I might have thought the tissue was for himself or worried that he was going to make a mess. But by staying present and open, I was able to witness his thoughtfulness unfold naturally.

Another wonderful moment involved a child engaged in flower arranging. She took her time carefully placing flowers in vases, and when an adult asked where she would like to put one particular vase, she confidently placed it on the seat of a tricycle in the middle of the room. To her, the trike seemed to need a little decoration! All the adults exchanged knowing smiles, respecting her creative choice without intervention. And, after some time, she decided on her own to move the vase to a table. No one had prompted her – she simply made the decision independently. This moment emphasized the importance of giving children the space to explore their environment and make decisions without unnecessary adult interference. It was her process, her learning, and we were simply there to observe and respect it.
 
The classroom, though full of movement, was also full of meaningful work. Each child was engaged in their own task, all unique yet interconnected in their purpose. One child practiced standing and sitting from a chair, learning how to maneuver his body; another was carrying a tray, carefully balancing it as she walked to the table; yet another was polishing a door, ensuring every last drop of polish was used with care. One child meticulously arranged flowers, thoughtfully deciding on placement, while another flipped through a book, adjusting his position repeatedly but never losing focus. Every child was working, learning, and mastering their own unique tasks, each at their own pace and in their own way.
 
What struck me most was how the act of observation is not a one-way street. As we adults model observation – quietly watching, reflecting, and respecting the process – the children, too, show their ability to observe us. There’s a mutuality in this process. Children watch adults, learning how to interact with the world, and in turn, they show us the depth of their own perceptions. They observe their peers, their environment, and their own actions. Through this mutual observation, growth and discovery happen organically in the classroom.
 
It’s moments like these that remind us how necessary it is to remain present and open, trusting in the child’s ability to navigate their environment. By observing without judgment and resisting the urge to intervene too quickly, we allow children the freedom to express their creativity, empathy, and problem-solving skills. In turn, we learn so much more about who they are, how they think, and how we can best support their journey. Through observation, we create a bridge between their inner world and ours, guiding them while allowing them the space to grow into their fullest potential.  That is the true work of a Montessorian.

Repetition! Repetition! Repetition!

Repetition is a concept with a terrible reputation.  We complain if we have the same lunch for too many days in a row.  We criticize films and books and songs for being "formulaic" when they reuse too many elements.  We are anxious to blurt out, "you told me this story before" when the office storyteller begins an involved story he told you a few weeks back.  We turn back on a car trip because we have forgotten something important and then feel interiorly crushed by having to retrace the same route we have just traveled.  
 
Our human nature itself seems to rebel against repetition.  As Americans, we must admit that a hunger for novelty is part of the national makeup.  If that were not enough, we are also denizens of the 21st century, for whom the entertainment is endless and the conveniences instant.  Waiting disgusts us.  Repeated tasks strikes us as a call back to a less enlightened age.
 
And yet repetition, as unpopular as it, is so essential to what we do here at school.  The ever quotable Christian philosopher Soren Kierkegaard called repetition "the reality and the seriousness of life."  An old spiritual director of mine said the same using different words: "virtue is forged in the furnace of regularity."
 
What we do once is something we did once.  What we do over and over again becomes who we are.  
 
Let us use multiplication as a case study.  In the Montessori elementary classroom there are very many materials that teach students this essential concept.  A first year child will continue their primary work with the golden beads material, then move on to the small and large bead frames.  Soon they will be introduced to the Stamp Game.  All along they will be using chains from the bead cabinet and bead bars in other ways.  There will also be materials which help them memorize their multiplication tables (what we usually call "math facts" nowadays): the multiplication bead board and various charts, such as the Table of Pythagoras work, a 10 by 10 grid in which a child will use tiles to fill in all the multiplication facts.  Further work will take them to the checkerboard, the flat bead frame, and the bank game, as the children get accustomed to compound multiplication.

Yes, this seems like a lot of variety.  At any given time a student in lower elementary will likely be using 2-3 of these materials as they dig into the concept from different angles.  But do not forget that these works will be introduced and used over a four year period.  Think of how long ago September of 2020 seems to you as you read this four long years later.  Think of how long a single summer or a single December seemed to you when you were a child.  This is a very long time for a child!
 
So let's zoom in.  What will one child's work look like with one given material?  
 
It begins with a presentation.  Last week, a few first years and a few second years were introduced or reintroduced to the small and large bead frames.  These are tools much like a color coded abacus, in which one row features beads representing units, another representing tens, and then hundreds, and thousands, and so on.  The small bead frame can handle numbers only as large as 10,999.  The large bead frame can go all the way up to 10,999,999.  We also use color coded paper when we write down our problems to help cement the child's impression of the decimal system.  (Please note, that when I use the phrase "decimal system" in these little essays, I am not referring to the numbers between the integers, but to our base-ten place value system of units and tens and hundreds and thousands and so on.)
 
Early presentations with this material are simply practicing forming numbers on the bead frame.  A child hears, "seven-hundred ten" and arranges seven hundred beads, one ten bead, and zero unit beads.  They will also see the teacher pull out a number of beads and be called on to interpret the beads and read off the number they represent.  Next will be "static addition" and "static subtraction" (addition and subtraction without carrying or borrowing).  After that, the carrying and borrowing arrive with "dynamic addition" and "dynamic multiplication".  After a child has succeeded with these tasks, they will be shown multiplication using this material.  As I sometimes say about particular Montessori materials, there are calculation tools and research tools, and this is a research tool.  By that I mean that there are materials to use if one's aim is simply getting the correct answer in the fastest and easiest way, and other ones to use if you really want to "open the hood" and see how math works.  Using the bead frame for multiplication is the latter sort.  Children will sometimes breathe a sigh of relief when they move away from the bead frames to the checkerboard material, because they are all of a sudden getting more answers correct.  Rare is the child, though, who has the perspective to see with gratitude all that was given to them by their work on the bead frames.  
 
After the child receives each presentation, they are expected to practice with the material and work toward eventual mastery.  Early problems they do are carefully curated by the teacher.  Later on they are encouraged to invent their own problems.  All the while, the adults in the classroom observe them.  Are they working with focus?  Are they getting the questions right or wrong?  If they are wrong, what is the issue--lack of focus?  Hurrying rather than working meditatively?  Getting it right on the material and then recording incorrect numbers?  Problems exchanging units for tens, tens for hundreds, hundreds for thousands?

After a decade in Montessori classrooms, I am only beginning to see that most problems a student has with math and language work, though, comes down to a lack of repetition.
 
I think we adults recognize that there are generally two ways to experience our work.  It can be an unpleasant curse that we bear casually with cynicism or apathy.  We protect ourselves from its rigors with daydreams.  We think of lunch.  We submerge ourselves in memory and planning and hope that muscle memory will do the work for us.  People speak to us and we--eyes glazed, attention diffuse--ask them to repeat themselves because we were somehow not present even though we were right there.  Where were we?  We are unsure.
 
We can choose also to be single minded and concentrated.  We can be present.  
 
Have you felt the difference?  If you do, you certainly do not need it described to you.  If we dig deep and examine ourselves, how often we rob ourselves and our loved ones of this being present to the task at hand.  We pack lunches with inattention.  We drive with mind blank and grip loose, somehow reckless even at the speed limit.  
 
After having spent much of my time since 2014 watching children work, I can tell you that this happens with children as well.  
 
The essential ingredient is that the students are present to their work and are willing to practice again and again.  Only then will the methods and concepts make the all-important move from short term memory to long term memory.  
 
I will say it again: only with repeated practice will a student's learning become permanent.
 
That being said, what are some ways that you and I can work together to make repetition a way of life for our students?
 
1. Reduce the child's need for novelty.  Don't be afraid to simplify your life with a meal plan.  Don't be afraid to play chess against your child, or rummy, or go fish with your child again and again, rather than moving from game to game, toy to toy.
 
2. Valorize repetition in your home.  There are books and films that reward repeated readings and viewings.  There are others that overstay their welcome even the first experience.  What are some books that you read every year or every few years.
 
3. Pray with scripture.  You may be interested in looking into the Medieval method of praying with the words of the Bible known as Lectio Divina, which translates as "divine reading".  A monk praying with a verse of scripture would repeat its words to himself over and over, much like how a ruminant chews its cud.  (This is where we get the word "ruminate", to mean to dwell upon or meditate upon.)  If there is any book which is begging to be read again and again, this is the one.
 
4. Let your child be bored.  Let yourself be bored.  I am dead serious.  It will change their brain over time and help them in the classroom.  I cannot overstate how much damage it does to our minds that we fill ever waking hour with entertainment.  Can we use the bathroom without our phones?  If not, how can we expect our children to multiply without talking with their friends?  Family by family, we can resist the war on attention the culture and the corporations are waging against us.   It will be difficult, but with consistency and regularity our families can transform.  Let us help each other out in this effort.  Give each other tips on how to reduce screen time.  Give each other pointers on things the family can do together which are not mediated by entertainment technology.
 
5. Be okay with your child being uncomfortable.  Growth often brings discomfort in the classroom.  Perhaps a student would benefit from having an assigned spot in the classroom on a particular morning, far from their best friend who is capable of being an expert distractor.  They will certainly not be happy about this.  And yet it is the very best possible thing we can do for them on that particular day.  For a student who does not want to practice their math work, having their work choice taken away is a tough pill to swallow.  We pledge that when we need to, we will take this particular freedom away in order to serve the child better and prepare them for a greater freedom in the future.  
 
Each of us in the classroom is being trained to make good choices.  As I said in a discussion with a student earlier this week, to expect too much is unfair.  I would not ask a student to borrow my car to go down to Dollar General and pick us up some milk for a cooking project.  Nor would I assign someone 75 math problems.  That is just too many!  In the same way, to watch a child repeatedly fail to choose the proper amount of practice is a dereliction of duty.  Thus we will always drive them to practice the skills they need to practice.  It will be uncomfortable.  It seems to rebel against everything we are as 21st century Americans!  But we didn't come to this school to go with the flow.  RMS is countercultural.  So let us be mavericks, and apply ourselves to the work we must do with attention, completing problem after problem until these tasks become a part of us.