As educators, parents, Montessorians, and just as human beings, our days are filled with little things. Small, nearly insignificant things in and of themselves fill our lives. Day after day, month after month, year after year, minor tasks, seemingly inconsequential chores, and fine details distract, absorb and drain. Sometimes I wonder if they really matter at all.
Little things, like writing a short essay about little things, cause me to pause and wonder what difference does all this really make.
Montessori teaching days are filled with little things. How we work to get every item correctly organized in the correct place on the correct shelf in the correct area. As I teacher, I recall the disappointment I felt if the knobbed cylinders were in the wrong order, if there wasn’t any paper for the metal inserts, or when class started with the stamps for the stamp game all mixed up. I recall struggling over the meticulous write-ups in my handbook, working to always know which hand (even which digit) is where. It isn’t easy to admit that sometimes I used only one finger on the sandpaper letters, or that I have lost track of what my subdominant hand was up to.
What care we take on every verbal and nonverbal message we send to the little ones. I know I have lost my “patience,” intervened too early, zipped that coat without asking, and succumbed to the temptation to praise a child with a “great job,” who has just done that old “Cam, watch this, Cam watch this” on the monkey bars.
Details, details details….
Montessori education is filled with them. Each day with children is filled with little things.
Yet it is from those little things, those minuscule, nearly insignificant things in of themselves, that the real Montessori message comes through. The real news from our rooms doesn’t come from expensive flashy materials, the brand-new computer, the fancy field trip, the elaborate shows and celebrations or special visitors, units of study or big group projects.
When Paul tied his shoe the other day, even if it took him 6 tries, that was a little thing. When Eileen concentrated the whole session on one project until she got that hamster home completely cleaned, refurbished and back in order, that was a little thing. When Casey finally chose some work to do without any help or suggestions, that was a little thing. When Kari realized and then demonstrated that she could read all the names on the class list, that was a little thing. When Tony asked to use the play dough instead of grabbing it, that was a little thing. And when Rachel actually said yes, that too was a little thing.
Maybe some little things are bigger than others.
Those are the little things that matter most. These are the things I am most grateful to be part of (even if it is only a little part). These tiny, quiet triumphs, one child by one child, that happen so often hidden in the hum of a bustling classroom, in a noisy building, in a busy city, in a big country, in a huge and mixed-up world, help me remember why all those details matter.
So, when we get back to work, and we’re all caught up in the details of the environment, keeping records, monitoring ourselves, writing reports, maintaining order, and whatever the little things are that bury us, remember to attend also to those little big things. They are what it is all about.
Together With Montessori 