Ramblings from ELF Student doing internship in Vietnam

It is evening, it is raining outside, the afternoon sky was beautiful, the kind of sky that draws me in, makes me feel faraway places are near, makes me feel like the sky is someone.

I have been hard at work with preparations for class, but with CNN on in the background of my room. Stories pour into my room from around the world. I heard about a young schoolgirl that was shot by rebels for wanting to get an education, the American elections around the corner and always, always it seems the war in Syria.

I found a book, I read from it a few pages at night just before bed, called 'A thousand splendid suns', that made the Middle East come alive with stories of people who lived there, who somehow survived the terrible things that happened there. Now when hearing the news stories happening there, it has become a very personal experience, knowing there are people, there, each with families, dreams, stories of their own, living with perpetual fear and terror. It reminds me of how I felt, as a little girl, inside a dream I had, of war, where I lived, that there were landmines in my garden, so that I could never go outside again to play, but upon waking I did not see planes cirling the sky, smoke billowing from buildings out my window, I felt relieved, for a moment but knew that there were places where this is real, not just a dream. I found an article about a Montessori orphanage in Afghanistan. It is called the House of Flowers. Such a beautiful name for a school. They have a school for children 3 -18 years. I wrote them a small note by email, sending them my wishes of peace.

My days are filled with the presence of children that I feel I have come to know well by now. We do exercise together in the morning, we study together, we eat together. We have built up trust amongst ourselves, it feels comfortable and natural to be together, in our bright, spacious classroom. They are affectionate, funny and warm. I do like all of them very much. I do love seeing them discover their abilities, their voices, their worlds, their experiences, I do feel priviledged ...

I may have found a studio apartment in beautiful neighbourhood, not far from my school. It is very homely, one big room, divided in areas, with a kitchenette, a lounge, a bedroom. It is furnished. It has big windows and reminds me of my classroom. There is a small path leading one there, through an alleyway, that spreads out into a beautiful homely neighbourhood, with dogs, cats, children, running about, candlelight from buddhist prayer alters glowing from the windows, houses with small fenced off gardens. I loved discovering a whole world there.

I feel the way I felt in my first year teaching very young children in Saigon, having introduced them to shapes, colours, patterns, those very things, became very vivid in my own experiences, seeing things as if for the first time, like the patterns on the paving of sidewalks, the colours around me, that I did not notice around me before. The world outside became a classroom for me, I followed those things that captured my interest and discovered yet a bigger picture with even more detail to explore, on and on, it seemed the world contained worlds. My classroom, my room, really a universe .. I become slightly anxious about not having enough time in a day, hours stolen from the night, to follow another link, no, just one more link, before it is time to sleep :)

But I feel grounded here somehow, not flutterings of thoughts and sensations, but slow and vivid experiences.

I like imagining Maria opening a door with a hidden smile, knowing how I love exploring, whispering my name to come out to her, saying:" I would like to show you something, would you like to come with me?", and then letting me out into the worlds as she also knew it.

A peep through the window before I step in!

A quick count - Twelve children are busy with different math activities on the floor from the sandpaper numbers, to the teen boards, the beads and the geometric solids. There are even children at tables doing math using pegboards, puzzles and beads. And the class teacher is on the floor sitting opposite a pair and engaging in math!

As soon as I walk in, the teacher looks up from the carpet and smiles at me. It is hard to distinguish her from the children as she sits cross- legged on the mat. Before I can even put my bag down, Alex (name has been changed) charges towards me and says” can I do that (he points to the 100 cubes).    That has been the pattern with Alex, Jamie and Ridhaa. Every week over these last few weeks, as soon as I walk in they want to do something different in math.

I ask them to get mats and go with them to the shelf to carry the beads. Each one carries something to the mat: Alex the unit beads, ten bead bars and the 100 bead squares on a tray, Jamie the felt squares and Ridhaa the 1000 cubes. We feel the beads and name them. I tell them that the one bead is called 1 unit, the 10 bead bar is 1- 10, the 100 beads are called 100 square and the 1000 beads are called 1000 cube. We feel, count and compare the beads to see if the 1 - 10 really has 10 beads and the 100 square a hundred unit beads and ten rows of 10 bead bars. (I notice from the corner of my eye the teacher observing the presentation). It feels good as I am sure that next week she will be doing this very presentation with another group

I leave the group alone and walk around observing the children busy with other math activities.

I notice that the teacher is doing addition sums with two boys. She is using the table top rods and addition signs and wooden symbols. Every now and then she is referring to her little notebook at her side. Later, she shows me the notebook and explains it is her way of remembering the activities and materials. She finds it small enough to walk around and refer to as needed.

What a change from a few months ago!

After the training workshops in May, the materials were given to the class teachers for use by the children. For a few weeks there seemed to be a reluctance to put the materials out on a shelf.  Then I offered to lay them out on the shelf in order.

Still no one touched them (Not least the teacher) until I walked in and invited children. The teacher continued with her daily programme and seemed to ignore the math area set out.  One morning I asked her why the children were not using the materials even though they were on the shelf? She explained that there was no time in her schedule, that the morning was group work - that she allocated to each group according to her plan. The class teacher directed the children to their groups and activities for the morning. And she didn’t know how to include the Montessori math into her schedule!

Hence, not a single child would take the materials off the shelf until I approached them.

After suggesting that she include the Montessori math as one group activity that she can allocate, the teacher took the initiative to direct children in pairs to the various math activities. The interest in math seemed to spread like wildfire – her interest peaked as she saw how the children were learning their numbers, shapes and counting. And so it came to be that the math group is the largest group in the class. It even brought the teacher to her knees.    She abandoned teaching from the chair and declared the carpet more comfortable. Last week she said with pride in her voice “ Look at my children – they are counting in 1000’s and they even can show you a square based pyramid! Even the ones with learning difficulties are doing something”

I don’t know which came first- the children’s interest in large numbers or the teacher’s confidence with the Montessori math materials?  Does it even matter?  Have we peaked their interest in math? Is there a tiny spark in their souls or a belief that says we can do math, we love to do math?

A visit to Jo's School

Imagine a classroom where 25 children between the ages of 3 and 5½ busy with work like bees in a hive.

Enthusiastically, each child works on something different. The work ranges from reading stories in the book corner, cutting and pasting pictures, building and re-building a tower, placing counters next to number symbols from 1-10.

I could go on and on ... after spending just one morning with a recent graduate from ELF Montessori at Jo’s school where she is a directress. I was amazed to see Shanaaz ---it’s as if she has been in the environment for years and not just since the beginning of 2012. The implementation of the philosophy oozes from her as naturally as the children come to her for a hug, or to share a story.

Thanks to Shanaaz and Yvonne (the founder of the school), I was able to spend a morning there observing their inclusive, multi-lingual classroom in action. Jo’s school provides the community of Vrygrond with a Montessori Pre-Primary programme. This community has suffered the ill-effects of apartheid and continue to live in poverty, where the unemployment and illiteracy rates are high, the education offered is of a poor quality and alcoholism is rife.

The class environment has children with special needs ranging from emotional trauma, Foetal Alcohol Syndrome and HIV/Aids.

But for four year old Sibongile, and three year old Liesel this school is their safe haven, where they can socialise and work with their peers. This environment ensures that it offers them the safe, comforting space in which their holistic development can occur.

Seeing this, brought to mind something I read, by Maria Montessori about how children learn:
“Supposing I said there was a planet without schools or teachers, where study was unknown, and yet the inhabitants—doing nothing but living and walking about—came to know all things, to carry in their minds the whole of learning; would you not think I was romancing? Well, just this, which seems so fanciful as to be nothing but the invention of a fertile imagination, is a reality. It is the child's way of learning. This is the path he follows. He learns everything without knowing he is learning it, and in doing so he passes little by little from the unconscious to the conscious, treading always in the paths of joy and love. —Dr. Maria Montessori, MD