Weaving a Montessori Basket

Note: Last November, I shared this statement with parents, teachers, and administrators at the opening night dinner of the Third Annual Public Montessori Educators of Texas Conference. This week, it was published under a different title by the Public School Montessorian.

Hands-on materials, sensory training, practical life work, child-sized furniture, multi-age grouping, love and respect for the child, individualized education, lessons that move from concrete to abstract, uninterrupted work periods, cooperation and collaboration, peace education, community meetings—like the reeds of a basket, all of these are merely components of a Montessori classroom. One or more of these components can be found today in many, if not most, mainstream classrooms. This is a good thing. There are many dedicated, caring educators in mainstream classrooms, and there are many ways to do right by a child. However, adopting one or two of these components does not make a Montessori classroom. The strength and beauty of a Montessori classroom is that these reeds have been woven into a beautiful and functional basket.

As Montessorians, we must maintain a deep conviction that the basket works. I am disheartened when I hear public Montessorians talk with quiet acceptance about the reeds that have been pulled from the beautiful, strong baskets we are attempting to weave. We hear of entire classes grouped by single grade, instead of three-year age groupings according to the Montessori planes of development. Assistants are pulled from classrooms and teachers struggle to give lessons. Other teachers struggle to create Montessori classrooms without training or certification. Students in tested grade levels are removed from their classrooms for up to seven hours a week (almost half of the time allocated for their uninterrupted work period) for direct instruction in preparation for the TAKS (Texas Assessment of Knowledge and Skills, a high-stakes state test, administered annually beginning in third grade). We listen to teachers talk about how they struggle to apply number grades to individualized work to which children are asked to make corrections. The basket is weakened, reed by reed.

What saddens me most is that each loss of a reed from the basket is explained with tones of acceptance or hopelessness, as if they were not choices, as if because our classrooms are in the public setting it is acceptable (or even inevitable) that we offer our students something less than the carefully woven basket we know works so well.

Certainly it is true that in Texas public Montessori schools, we do not have a choice about the TAKS test. However, we do choose our response. Abandoning components of Montessori in response to fear of outside pressures reveals either lack of knowledge or distrust in the Montessori philosophy and materials. As Montessorians, we must maintain a deep conviction that the basket works. If we believe in the genius of the Montessori materials and in the power of a Montessori classroom to educate all children, we must trust that this is the path to success on “The Test,” as well. Catherine McTamaney, author of The Tao of Montessori, writes, “We are asked to sacrifice parts of Montessori, but who is to say which parts of the method are essential and which can be discarded? In bureaucracy, others decide. In practice, we do. We determine whether or not to have faith in this method.” To maintain this trust in the face of high-stakes test pressure is a difficult task. This is why we come together to support one another in keeping the faith and defending the strength of our Montessori baskets. Which reed is critical to the integrity of the basket and which can be removed without consequence?

If we believe in the beauty and function of the basket, we will be vigilant about maintaining its strength. As trained Montessorians, it is our duty to maintain the integrity of the basket and to recognize when we are standing with only a handful of reeds. Authentic Montessori environments do exist in public settings. It can be done. It requires self-reflection, patient and persistent education of administrators and district officials, and finding the strength necessary to ask for what you need to do it well.

No-one among us has a finished perfect basket. We are all at different stages in the process, and just as every child is different, every Montessori classroom is different. If each of us is preparing the environment to meet the needs of the individual children with whom we work, we must expect that every Montessori classroom around the world, and even the same classroom over time, will look different. Catherine McTamaney writes, “When we realize that Montessori is a verb, an action and not a thing, we grant ourselves the grace to grow as teachers. We grant ourselves the union of community with other educators.” Let’s not pour energy into discussions of who is holding more reeds, focus on weaving—together. Seek out the company and understanding of other basket makers, other Montessorians. Let them help you find the strength to ask for the basket your children deserve. Your children deserve the basket.