I had my first official blog email question, and by someone other than one of my seven official followers! This must be why I am doing this. :)
Question: "I heard that any school can call itself Montessori. Is that true? How do I know it's a good school?"
Answer: Yes! It's true! Any school can call themselves Montessori. Scary! You can evaluate a school pretty effectively through observation and discussion with the director and other parents.
OBSERVATION
You MUST observe in the classroom while students are present. If you are not allowed to observe, be concerned. What are they trying to hide? You should be expected to sit quietly and inconspicuously and not talk to the students or teacher unless approached. Look for teaching style, student behavior, and classroom layout/materials.
Movement: You should see the teacher moving around the room meeting with small groups or individuals. You should see students helping each other and helping themselves to work on the shelves and supplies. There will be work and students on the floor. It may look chaotic and messy, so try to focus your attention on one or two students at first to see what they are doing. Everyone will be working on something different.
Range of Ages: There will be a range of ages present in the classroom: 0-3, 3-6, 6-9, etc. If there is only one age present, be concerned. A range of ages provides leadership for older students and community for all. It also lends itself to the division of the planes of development. I could keep going, but that's another post.
Inviting Decor: The classroom should look inviting and the furniture arranged so it is easy for children to work in small groups or alone. Materials are organized neatly by subject and by level on the shelves. Artwork is hung at the child's eye level. You should not see several rows of desks facing the front of the classroom or lots of brightly colored "educational" crap on the walls (a little is okay, but the classroom should ideally look like as inviting as someone's house).
Behavior: Do the children know what to do? They should be self-directed. They should know where things are and what to do with them. They will look to the teacher and each other for support at times, but they should not be relying on the teacher for constant direction. Older students will definitely have their own work plan or schedule to guide them (self-made is even better!).
DISCUSSION
Membership: Find out if the teachers are AMS or AMI trained (or something else), and if their training center is recognized by the Montessori Accreditation Council for Teacher Education (MACTE). MACTE spans all of the ways you can become a Montessori teacher including AMS and AMI (and even stranger, smaller independent means of training). You can ask where the teachers were trained and look it up easily on the MACTE website. MACTE has standards, and your school should too!
Further, is the school a member of some sort of Montessori organization such as AMS? If not, why not? My local Montessori is not concerned with affiliation or accreditation due to the high cost and the lack of interest of parents which leads me to my next point...
Teacher and Parent Education: What opportunities are available for continuing teacher education? Do they attend conferences or have opportunities for additional training? Do they have degrees in something education- or child-development-related? Is there a parent's association of sorts and is there a piece within that that seeks to educate parents and families about the Montessori method? Do administrators and teachers regularly communicate with parents? Do the seek community involvement? And lastly, do they want your help? I hope the answer to all of these questions is yes! If no, something may be lacking.
What Parents Are Saying: I leave this a bit open-ended because parents can give you details about how bullying is handled to which bar your child's teacher frequents. At my daughter's Montessori preschool, I heard from two separate sources beforehand that it wasn't "real Montessori" and now I am left wondering... what is "real Montessori?"
Is it real Montessori?
Montessori can only be as authentic as is desired-- by the school, the families who have children there, and the community. This may be a good question to bring up-- what parts of the program are they most proud? What adjustments have they had to make to the Montessori model to fit the needs of the current student population? And (you knew this was coming): What can you do to help?
It's your job to be involved in your child's education, so be a critic and a supporter. They can do it without you, but it will work much better with your help! It's really hard to pinpoint what makes a good school. If you're committed to Montessori, you know that test scores is not necessarily an indicator of learning. In the end, go with your gut and don't be afraid to change your decision if it doesn't work. Montessori isn't the only answer to a good education, but I believe it's the best way we have.
I bet I missed something. What else?
Showing posts with label observation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label observation. Show all posts
Thursday, September 22, 2011
How Do I Choose a Montessori School?
Labels:
MACTE,
Montessori,
movement,
multi-age,
observation
Sunday, August 14, 2011
I'm a Pollyanna and I'm Glad About It
I always thought the best teachers were the old ones who had seen everything and knew what to do in every situation. But, my first year of teaching was the best year in my classroom regarding learning. I had it all figured out, even though I didn't know it at the time. After an intense summer of Montessori training, I told myself that I wouldn't focus on getting the lessons right, but that I would focus on setting up the right environment for my students to learn. I did this without the right materials, without adequate classroom furniture, and without experience.
My goal that year was to love each of my students. In doing that, I made a point to know each one of them and ended up making them comfortable enough to be able to learn. I spent oodles of time watching them and learned much about what they needed. I also spent a lot of time listening to their ideas and stories, which taught me a lot.
One student spent several minutes at the start of each day recounting everything he did after school the day before and that morning, catching me up on everything I missed. I almost always listened, and when I didn't make the time, it usually took me a day or two to make it up to him. That student needed the daily morning debrief and he would be set for the whole day. That's what he needed.
Another student needed to do her work standing up. She needed to walk a lap around the classroom about every 10 minutes. If allowed to do this, she had all of her work done by lunch and enjoyed the rest of the afternoon reading, giving lessons to others students, and working on new lessons and projects.
I could recount for you the 22 other unique situations that I had in my classroom that year. No two students needed the same thing. Some of the things they needed I wouldn't have ever figured out if they hadn't trusted me enough to tell me or if I hadn't taken the time to observe. (For those who are wondering, I set aside 30 minutes a day for observation, which means that I really got to do 60-90 minutes of observation per week.
There was one student who was smarter than me. He was six years old. Well, okay, there were two students there that first year who were definitely smarter than me, but I'm going to talk about the one who has really stuck with me. The first weeks of school as we were doing creation stories, he and I had several conversations about the meaning of life. He decided that his purpose was to figure out his purpose (to learn) and that mine was to love others. He actually told me my life's purpose. This kid was six years old and I was 24 and I didn't realize my calling until he told it to me. (He was right, by the way, and I try to not assume that I know more just because I'm older because a lot of the time, I don't.)
Some of my students were more difficult to love than others, and I admit that there was one that I never figured out how to love. She was intelligent but unmotivated and I spent an entire year trying to figure out what she needed. I never did figure it out. I should also take a moment to say that I was by no means an excellent teacher. I just felt inspired that first year and I believe it showed in the level of learning and interest of my students.
My second year of teaching was the worst year ever in my classroom. Two-thirds of my classroom was the same students as the previous year, but everyone suffered that year. I blame myself. I thought my goal should be different that year: to get students to learn something. I forgot to love them! Sure, I loved most of them anyway, but the atmosphere was so different, it's amazing we survived. Actually, by my third year, four students I would have had ended up in a different class, school, or city. This was totally traumatic for me as a teacher because it was a glaring wake up call that I had failed. There were four definite casualties who physically left, but there were many others who would carry with me into the following years. I didn't want to fail them again.
I got my kids to succeed through observation and love. The other part of my point is that the goal of teaching shouldn't be anything related to test scores. In coming blog post, I will talk about why worrying about test scores will actually make students dumber.
If you received this post via email or facebook message, it's because I really want you to read it. I think I'm going to stop posting these on my facebook page, so if you want to keep reading you can subscribe via email or follow with your google account. :)
My goal that year was to love each of my students. In doing that, I made a point to know each one of them and ended up making them comfortable enough to be able to learn. I spent oodles of time watching them and learned much about what they needed. I also spent a lot of time listening to their ideas and stories, which taught me a lot.
One student spent several minutes at the start of each day recounting everything he did after school the day before and that morning, catching me up on everything I missed. I almost always listened, and when I didn't make the time, it usually took me a day or two to make it up to him. That student needed the daily morning debrief and he would be set for the whole day. That's what he needed.
Another student needed to do her work standing up. She needed to walk a lap around the classroom about every 10 minutes. If allowed to do this, she had all of her work done by lunch and enjoyed the rest of the afternoon reading, giving lessons to others students, and working on new lessons and projects.
I could recount for you the 22 other unique situations that I had in my classroom that year. No two students needed the same thing. Some of the things they needed I wouldn't have ever figured out if they hadn't trusted me enough to tell me or if I hadn't taken the time to observe. (For those who are wondering, I set aside 30 minutes a day for observation, which means that I really got to do 60-90 minutes of observation per week.
There was one student who was smarter than me. He was six years old. Well, okay, there were two students there that first year who were definitely smarter than me, but I'm going to talk about the one who has really stuck with me. The first weeks of school as we were doing creation stories, he and I had several conversations about the meaning of life. He decided that his purpose was to figure out his purpose (to learn) and that mine was to love others. He actually told me my life's purpose. This kid was six years old and I was 24 and I didn't realize my calling until he told it to me. (He was right, by the way, and I try to not assume that I know more just because I'm older because a lot of the time, I don't.)
Some of my students were more difficult to love than others, and I admit that there was one that I never figured out how to love. She was intelligent but unmotivated and I spent an entire year trying to figure out what she needed. I never did figure it out. I should also take a moment to say that I was by no means an excellent teacher. I just felt inspired that first year and I believe it showed in the level of learning and interest of my students.
My second year of teaching was the worst year ever in my classroom. Two-thirds of my classroom was the same students as the previous year, but everyone suffered that year. I blame myself. I thought my goal should be different that year: to get students to learn something. I forgot to love them! Sure, I loved most of them anyway, but the atmosphere was so different, it's amazing we survived. Actually, by my third year, four students I would have had ended up in a different class, school, or city. This was totally traumatic for me as a teacher because it was a glaring wake up call that I had failed. There were four definite casualties who physically left, but there were many others who would carry with me into the following years. I didn't want to fail them again.
I got my kids to succeed through observation and love. The other part of my point is that the goal of teaching shouldn't be anything related to test scores. In coming blog post, I will talk about why worrying about test scores will actually make students dumber.
If you received this post via email or facebook message, it's because I really want you to read it. I think I'm going to stop posting these on my facebook page, so if you want to keep reading you can subscribe via email or follow with your google account. :)
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