Walking Backwards

It was Friday, and that's always a quiet day in the classroom. Half of my class disappears for gymnastics and the rest of the children settle in so easily. On this day, there was a child at a rug working on the hundred board, and most of the children had chosen table jobs. Two children decided fairly randomly to walk backward in a circle around the carpet.

They did this for about 15 minutes. I watched and listened to them. They were excited having fun, and talking about how hard this was and quite a challenge. I was wondering if it would disturb the child working on the hundred board - it certainly would have disturbed me to be constantly circled! She didn't seem to mind except when they came a bit close to her rug. Gentle words of caution not to get to close.

Silliness reigned after about 15 minutes. A third child joined them and one of the first started to yell and giggle. They started to move faster and faster. I cautioned them once, and then suggested that it was perhaps time to find another work.

The delightful part for me was that about 20 minutes later one of the children came to me and told me how much he had enjoyed walking backwards. "There is no place at home where I could walk backwards, and it was so much fun."

He was refreshed, energetic, so excited and happy. Walking backwards in a circle is not a lesson that was in my training. Yet, it falls in the principles of follow the child. Not everything is materials and academics. This child needed to move at the moment. They walked and talked and were happy. They did not disturb another child. I adored them...

The pink block experiment

This was an unusual week, and I had a unique opportunity. Spring break week. "Day care week - no curriculum, the children, may do whatever they want and play outside as long as they wish." OK. Within the normal ground rules of the classroom, I can live with that. Except it wasn't my classroom... It was a mix of the very youngest students. One day - the grandson of the school director and his mother appeared. They were killing time, and we were the place that he could play. (I must work on my own frustration on the lack of parent's appreciation and understanding and accept them for where they are!)

Mindful that this child was not actually enrolled-

I encouraged him to carry each pink cube one at a time to "keep them safe." (and of course as a way to feel the weight of each cube and hold the space in his hands!) I remembered in the Montessori handbook how she talks of the joy of a child in building the pink cubes in order to knock them down again- just so that he can rebuild them.

I LET him KNOCK down the pink tower!

Repetition. He worked on the pink tower for about 25 minutes! CONCENTRATION. He's not even 3, but I don't know his age. I wonder what age Maria Montessori designed the pink tower for. Was she worried about the cost at that point? Or looking at what the young children wanted to do.

Respect for the materials is critical. He was little. The blocks fell. Most were on the rug, a few off the rug. They didn't fly across the room, or hit anyone. All along his mother sat next to him, and tried to get him to find the "biggest" cube. He was, of course, building it completely out of size order. I have no idea if he has ever been given a lesson/example on the perfection of this material. He wouldn't care right now.

Should he work with anyone right now? NOPE, I don't think so. It was perfect for just his hands.

An older child needs to work on perfection and order and gradation.

I wonder...
How many schools ever allow children to knock down blocks - respectfully?
The pink cube is a unit of metric measurement that is systemic through many Montessori materials. The metric system is not used in the United States. Should some of these materials be revisited in their design? Isn't it more important to concretely understand what a 1/4 inch, 1/2 inch, inch etc. are than 10CM? (That has to be one of the most useless measurements I can concretely measure!)