In January I’m focusing on our mission through TFS “mantras” — phrases we use or you might hear that represent our mission in an informal way.
Last week I wrote about being a forest rather than an orchard. This is not an easy feat; it is an art rather than a science and it is counter-cultural. Even when we want the forest with our rational minds, most of our habits and cultural pressure are orchard-related.
The primary way we resist this pressure is by focusing on the process of learning and growing rather than focusing on the product of our education. This does not mean that the product (college admissions, character, content mastery, success) is not important. In fact, we believe the product will actually improve if we have an extremely solid process for the student.
So we focus on the process every step of the way, whether it’s showing math work instead of just the final answer, developing preschool finger strength before writing, allowing the 6th grade store or Chicken Middle to make mistakes, or grading high school students on whether they brought their books and pens to class.
Practicing each of these steps along the way forms the content of our character (work ethic, perseverance, resilience, mastery, self advocacy, communication skills, self-discipline) and so we take the time to reflect on and attend to every step with the long view in mind, even if it includes some risks and failures and messiness along the way.
With the usual January buzz in the air about goals and resolutions, I’ve been thinking about priorities and change. Educators are actually on a cycle where new plans and new changes kick off in August, so quite often January is simply a reminder of where we’re going and what we value.
There are a number of “mantras” that serve as the unofficial mission and philosophy. They are quick metaphors or catchy phrases that are in line with our mission, but are easier to remember and repeat than the carefully worded and somewhat cumbersome mission. Listening in on the strategic planning discussions last week, I never heard the mission or philosophy directly quoted, but a number of these came up spontaneously.
A forest rather than an orchard. This is a powerful metaphor because it sends an enormous message about our educational philosophy and our view of children (humanity, really) in a mere six words. We are cultivating an environment where everyone can (and will hopefully) learn to be comfortable in their own skin, even proud of their own uniqueness, and where we are celebrating different strengths, different preferences, different time lines, and different needs every day. This is in stark contrast to an orchard, which many more traditional environments model, requiring everyone to grow the same way, produce the same “fruit”, at the same time and those who don’t perform like the other trees feel marginalized in some way.
I believe we are successfully providing a safe space for kids to discover who they are and to find peace with it. (Our school is far rarer than I wish it were.) This takes years to accomplish. There are many bumps along the path, but the seeds take root, grow, are nurtured, and finally they blossom.
On Thursday I listened to our alumni speak with Dr. Shahan, and the recurrent theme in their reflections was that TFS gave them the confidence to discover and be who they are. This theme came up through several different topics, from adjusting to a large university environment to dealing with situations and people who are very different, because our self-confidence is a major thread throughout our adult lives. Growing up in a forest is simply the best way to develop such self confidence.
As I mentioned previously, Dr. Montessori observed that one goal of adolescence is social independence (physical and mental independence come during the first two years). Jean Piaget wrote about the process of growing out of egocentrism (the childhood cognitive state of not seeing multiple perspectives). The awakening from egocentrism happens in several stages, but the 12 to 18 year old is discovering and learning to live with self consciousness–being conscious of his existence.
If you imagine a child dancing around happily in a field without much worry or pressure as a metaphor for the first 12 years of childhood (the eight year old rarely questions the significance of their piano or soccer skills in the universe, or the way mom/dad dresses as a representation of their identity), self consciousness is something that washes over a young adolescent as if a curtain has dropped and he realizes he is not alone in that field… and never was. Instead, he was on a stage. At first, adolescents are mortified and embarrassed that people were noticing them and judging them without their knowledge. They have to do an inventory about every possible shame to decide how to file it all away and to gauge how embarrassed they should be. Every detail matters. As they process their new situation, they have two choices: to hide or to perform. Both choices have the same disadvantages; they grow exhausted and lonely. We were not made for a life on a social stage.
As kids head into the latter half of adolescence, they need to transition from the “stage” into a community. They will gradually find a balance between feeling like everyone is looking at them and knowing they are in a group who is largely going through the same thing. They need to strip off the costume and the performance, and let people accept them–or not–for who they are. Again, this is a process and everyone is on their own developmental time schedule, but this transition will largely occur by 18 years of age. As adults, we will still struggle with this now and again for sure! Some psychologists argue that this stage is currently elongated in the USA, and many of our adolescents are not reaching the final stages as quickly as previous time periods, and other cultures. The more we help them disable and invalidate the “stage,” the better our childrenwill accomplish the tasks of adolescence and be prepared for the tasks of young adulthood. As they head into the last official phase of childhood, we want them to have made peace with the idea of community, understand how a variety of relationships work, and their identity within those relationships. We want them to be as confident in their roles with others as they were tying their shoes at six or practicing their trombone at 11.
As I perused Facebook during break and scrolled through the photos of projects and travels and get togethers, I was struck by two seemingly contradictory messages coming from parents. The first was how many clearly wonderful things were happening: fathers and sons building lego rocketships together, children using their free time to create blanket forts and put on concerts for parents, families creating memories together that appear almost Hallmark-channel ready. The second was how exhausting kids can be: their stubbornness, whining, arguing, and ungratefulness at times. As I reflect on the time I spent with my family over this winter break, I realize that they’re the same message.
Almost 20 years ago, I listened to a speaker talk about quality time. A dad in the audience spoke about how he had created a special evening with his son after a long stint of business travel and some difficult life events. Both the father and son were really looking forward to this time: a baseball game together. They arrived at the game and after an inning the child was bored and wanted food. The dad bought some. The child got whiny and wanted something else. At some point the dad said no. The child had a tantrum. The dad lost his temper. They left the game early. Both were hurt and frustrated and disappointed. This dad asked the speaker about how he failed at creating quality time. The speaker disagreed, saying that this man’s evening was absolutely quality time.
The mess, the struggle, the discipline, and the disappointment are all part of a real relationship, and we can’t get to the deep, authentic, and unconditional levels of relating without evenings like theirs.
Life is a beautiful mess, or a messy beauty, and a meaningful time together doesn’t usually mean a perfect time.
For the last three weeks I have been writing about the phases of childhood. Dr. Montessori proposed that there are four major phases of childhood (she called them the Planes of Development) from birth until 24 years of age. Dr. Montessori said that children are creating their person the first six years, elaborating on the mind and personality from years six to 12, then creating their social identity from 12 to 18 years, and elaborating on that from 18 to 24. She uses the language of creation verses elaboration to distinguish between the upheaval of the first six years and the relative calm of the next six; the upheaval of the adolescent phase, and the relative calm of the last phase.
Adolescence is a phase that perplexes us. We don’t always feel that we know our child; sometimes they act like they don’t remember us (their family, their roots). There’s drama, withdrawal, mood swings, and frustration from a child who was likely calm and enjoyable a year or two before. Dr. Montessori (and many other developmentalists) argue that it’s not a whole lot different than the turmoil of the first six years. The child is growing and changing tremendously, so there are lots of hormones (the chemicals that produce change in the body). She is creating herself in some way, which requires a separation/distancing of sorts from you. Her highs are very high, and her lows are very low (you will never be as upset as you were at two or 13 again, but you may also never feel quite the same thrills as you did at those ages either). Her tantrums can be similar, but she is much more articulate, and she knows you well enough by now to lash out with sophistication–right where it hurts.
But they are still kids and they need you after the drama as badly as your three-year-old did. They are trying on various identities, figuring out who they are, but they need you to remind them who they are. They are pushing the boundaries to test their strengths, but they still need those boundaries. The tricky part is that the six-year-old emerged ready to dress himself and make his lunch, but the adolescent will emerge ready to have a job, live on his own, manage relationships and school, etc., which often scares us. The stronger his core sense of identity is going into adulthood, the better set he will be for the stresses and demands of relationships–both intimate and professional.
So the tumult is all worth it, if it creates the adult that he will become. YOU have to be the calm in the storm, where he finds rest and remembers who he is.
Dr. Montessori proposed that there are four major phases of childhood (she called them the planes of development) from birth until 24 years of age. The past two weeks, I spoke about the first six years. In the second phase, between ages six and twelve, Montessori described the major goal to be mental/cognitive independence. Freud called this period latency (because it’s so calm). Erikson said that the subconscious goal of this age group is competence — kids will either develop a sense of industry or a sense of inferiority. These developmental tasks should resonate with what you observe in elementary students, and they all dovetail off of one another.
Six to twelve year olds frustrate/confound parents, teachers, therapists, etc. less than any other age because this time period of developing skills fits in beautifully with what society is asking of them. They want to develop competence, and we want them to develop competence. We want them to go to school and work on typing and math and reading; in general, they want to go to school and work on typing and math and reading! They want to play soccer and learn to play the guitar and take dance lessons; we view all of those activities as healthy, constructive needs that we want to meet. Our goals for them work in harmony with their natural developmental goals, so during this period we usually feel pretty good about our kids, our parenting skills, and their school/teams/activities.
An ever-present thread, however, is Dr. Montessori’s theme of independence. Physical independence (dressing themselves, feeding themselves, climbing, running, etc.) has been mastered, and is therefore no fun. Skill mastery is the new thing, and the freedom to experiment with and tackle new skills is the next step in building their identity, but it has to have a measure of independence for it to be truly theirs. When we “over parent” and push them too hard in these areas, we not only take the fun out of it, but we also take the independence out of it. The result? They don’t develop the confidence and identity they need to continue to build through their industry (hard work). They will need a strong sense of competence–and identity–before heading into the next very tumultuous period–adolescence.
Erik Erikson, a renowned psychologist in psychosocial development, broke the child development process down even further. He observed that from birth to the first birthday, children are learning whether or not the world is a trustworthy and essentially good place. When your stomach aches for food, does it get filled? When your body is cold and wet, does it find comfort? The core strength developed is a sense of hope.
Between the first and third birthdays, a child is learning autonomy (often called the “terrible two’s”). If they are not able to develop this core strength of will, they are left with self doubt. Children who learn to say “no” appropriately are more likely to be able to say no to negative peer pressure later, say no to injustices they observe, and have a stronger sense of their core ego–who they are.
Lastly, from three to six years old, children are subconsciously driven to develop a sense of purpose. They do this through exploring their world; if adults encourage it appropriately, they learn initiative, if not, they learn inhibition.
These are very broad generalizations, fleshed out over decades and thousands and thousands of written pages, but suffice it to say, most of us recognize our kids in those descriptions. Big things are happening inside them during those early years that will shape the rest of their lives, and that’s why we give as much attention to the three year olds’ curriculum and day-to-day experience as our high schoolers’.
Stay tuned for next week’s post: 6 to 12 Years Old
The Montessori Method challenges educators to shape the curriculum and pedagogy around the developmental needs of each age group. There is no universally accepted or articulated framework for psycho-social development the way there is for biological development, and frankly, I don’t know many educators or doctors who give much thought to it beyond the superficial stereotypes.
But Dr. Montessori was deeply intrigued by it, as were several of her contemporaries (Jean Piaget, Erik Erikson, and Anna Freud to name three), and they created a solid foundation in developmental psychology, although their theories never seemed to affect mainstream practices significantly. We know a lot about teenage behavior from neurological research (they’re developing their frontal lobes) and biochemistry (for example, the chemicals of adolescence create mood swings), but why do they feel so lonely? Why will they engage in something that we think they will mock and then mock something we think they will like? What is the difference between an 8-year-old who wants to learn and an 8-year-old who doesn’t want to learn?
I believe that the better educators understand these tasks, the more effective our education will be. We cannot help our students become the best version of themselves, if we don’t truly know them — and know which phases will pass. We need to work *with* their natural drive rather than against it whenever possible. In this day and age, with so much data and science and information, it’s shocking how dependent our entire child-rearing system is on gut and intuition.
There’s a lot of information missing still, but most schools are not addressing the information we do have. I want to spend the next few weeks (here on this blog) discussing what the developmental stages are and how TFS addresses each of these stages in our own way. The more we all understand our children, the better we can love and grow them.
Week 1: The First Six Years of Life
Dr. Montessori proposed that there are four major phases of childhood (she called them the planes of development) from birth until 24 years of age. In the first phase from birth to six years old (infancy/early childhood), children focus on physical independence and the core task is to create their personality. They are developing independence from mom biologically, and from all adults in terms of fine and gross motor skills. They want to do concrete tasks by themselves, take care of themselves, and work on skills that interest them. The foundation of their character, a positive sense of self, will come from their achievements in physical independence.
These are very broad generalizations, fleshed out over decades and thousands and thousands of written pages, but suffice it to say, most of us recognize our kids in those descriptions. An eight year old does not find the same joy in zipping his own zipper as a four year old. No one is quite as moody and contrary as the two year old who is setting her boundaries (except maybe the adolescent–we’ll address that later). Big things are happening inside them during those early years that will shape the rest of their lives, and that’s why we give as much attention to the three year olds’ curriculum and day-to-day experience as our high schoolers’.
Stay tuned next week for Part II of Birth to 6 Years.
Last week, our faculty read some articles and discussed introversion and extroversion in the classroom. Traditional schools tend to bias towards introverts, rewarding students for sitting quietly, not disrupting anything, and then moving to the next class. Assignments due are completed individually and questions are taken at the end of the lesson. But extroverts learn by talking and engaging, they have a difficult time holding their thoughts very long, and with their energetic focus on the world around them often comes disruption. They work better in groups, unless the assignment is very difficult, in which case they usually need to be alone to concentrate.
As the need for “21st Century Skills” plays a more important role in pedagogy, progressive classrooms are focused more on collaboration, discussion, and projects. The bias shifts towards extroverts by imposing on introverts’ processing time, rewarding speaking quickly and spontaneously, and demanding group and spontaneous participation in projects. Introverts will learn better with time to formulate their thoughts, may pull away from overly energetic discussions, and grow exhausted by group work.
So what’s a teacher to do? Fortunately, the common ground is that both introverts and extroverts can benefit from working on their weaker skills (for example, some students need to learn how to control “blurting out,” while others need to learn how to jump in and share their thoughts). A well-supervised discussion, where the teacher is aware of both possible biases, can challenge both preferences in a constructive way. Choices that address the differences between the preference are also key to optimal learning. Students will naturally choose the least draining option and self-select into their optimal learning situation. Wait time before requiring responses, outlets for extroverted energy, and meeting varying social needs can all be considered without much sacrifice in our independent environment.
Know that your children are with faculty who are focusing on how the students learn best, while pushing them beyond their natural inclinations. We are nurturing who they are, with an eye on who they can be. And we are always learning ourselves.
Is your child ready to deal with bumps in the road of life? Can they handle disappointment, failure, and embarrassment with resilience? These issues continue to be at the forefront of most higher education (college) publications. College preparatory has come to mean much more than, or rather something very different from, academic preparation, as the crisis over student emotional preparedness grows broader and deeper.
I have written about this issue several times over the past decade, and our community is more united about these issues than many, but the problem continues to grow and so I believe we need to keep it on our community radar. You can read the most recent article that has gone viral here, but suffice it to say that toddlers and preschoolers are not too young to start preparing for adulthood–in fact it’s the whole point of childhood.
Kids should have a little focused attention every day, but not 100% of your attention 100% of the time. We should be our kids’ biggest fans, but also their most constructive critics. We should not fix their problems, not let them stay home from school needlessly, not avoid uncomfortable situations, and not make excuses for them. From the very start, they need to hear us say to them: You can do hard things and I know you can handle this yourself.
Dr. Montessori pioneered the idea that every time we do something for a child, we are sending them the message, “you can’t do this” or “you can’t do this well enough”. This is an appropriate message when they are not yet capable (driving, planning the family calendar, being alone in public), however the crisis in college readiness and the extremely high levels of anxiety and depression in adolescents demonstrates that on the whole, we are not allowing or requiring our kids to do enough all by themselves.
Certain personalities will fight this, but most are happy to sit back while adults around them work hard. They don’t know that doing things for themselves and contributing personally to the community around them is how they build confidence. They’re kids! They don’t realize that their muscles are atrophying and senses are dulling with each passive moment.
What do you do for your kids that may not be necessary? What are they capable of doing around your house, for school, for friendships that they are not doing? Do you think you should require any additional independence from them or raise the standards at all?
These are tricky principles to apply in our own lives, and I’m more than happy to wrestle with the issues alongside you!