#Montessori inspired

[toxicroyjamie]

Guys I got my dream student teaching placement!!! 🥹🥹🥹

[annaflorsdefum]

ES|| Más ilustraciones del Calendario Montessori 2023, el cual, como ya sabréis, está enfocado en distintas maneras de cuidar el planeta. Una de las cosas más importantes para mejorar el medio ambiente es reducir el consumo de plásticos y hay infinidad de maneras de hacerlo, por ejemplo, buscar juguetes de otros materiales. La verdad es que siempre me sorprende la gran variedad de alternativas que hay a los típicos juegos de plástico. A mí, personalmente, me encantan los juguetes de madera con formas orgánicas e inspiradas en la naturaleza (sobre todo si son de madera recogida de forma sostenible y de proximidad)! 🌱

EN|| More illustrations from the 2023 Montessori Calendar, which, as you already know, is focused on different ways to take care of the planet. One of the most important things to improve the environment is to reduce plastic consumption and there are countless ways to do this, for example, looking for toys made of other materials. The truth is I’m amazed by the wide variety of alternatives there are to typical plastic toys. I personally love wooden toys with organic shapes inspired by nature (especially if they are made locally and from sustainable wood)!🌱

[nabilarteducatedkids]

Fun & Effective Toddler Reward Chart

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Start building great habits today with this engaging and rewarding tool that turns daily tasks into a fun and positive experience! Perfect for toddlers aged 2 and up.

Order now and make learning fun for your little one!

[kids-worldfun]

How Toddler Learning Towers Transform Playtime and Routines?

While parenthood is a sweet journey, the phase of parenting and managing a toddler is quite challenging. With peak curiosity, they want to fill every moment with discoveries and experiences. To ensure your toddler’s safe growth during this phase, you need a toddler learning tower. This is a step stool made specifically for toddlers, secured with guard rails and stable bases. They help your…

[cambridgemontessori21]

Inspiring young minds, one discovery at a time – join Cambridge Montessori!"

Inspiring young minds, one discovery at a time – join Cambridge Montessori!"

@cambridge.monressori.10

#CambridgeMontessoriKharghar

#NaviMumbaiPreschool

#EarlyLearning

#MontessoriEducation

#KhargharKids

#PreschoolAdmissions

#ChildDevelopment

#MontessoriMethod

[brightsparkstation]

Introducing Bright Spark Station - A Kids Learning Station. Our mission is to provide a fun and engaging learning experience for children of all ages. We believe that learning can and should be fun! We strive to provide exciting, stimulating, and engaging content that quests children's intelligence #BrightSparkStation #toddlerlearning #KidsLearning #toddleractivities #toddlerlife #toddler #kidsactivities #montessori #toddlerplay #preschool #montessoriathome #momlife #homeschool #finemotorskills #parenting #learningathome

[hummingbee-o0o]

Armand Molloy's Vampirism Course for the Gifted

Apparently, Daniel is something of a vampiric prodigy.

He’s a very efficient and neat killer, sure, but that’s not it. It’s about The Gifts, or whatever. Well, one gift, for now, but Armand is so hopped up on it he’s going full Montessori on Daniel’s ass. He apparently wants to make up for being an absentee maker at the start there, and he’s determined to nurture Daniel’s talents.

It started a couple months ago, when Daniel casually set a shitty book on fire, and even he was surprised at how easily it came to him. Armand then said something weirdly erotic about his blood being inside Daniel, and the whole incident got them both so horny they repeatedly had sex about it for a week.

And now Armand is of the opinion that Daniel should try branching out into other gifts as well.

Except…

You know how some birds of prey will deliver a kill that’s still wriggling to their nest, so the young can learn to deal the killing blow? Yeah, that’s pretty much Armand’s teaching methodology.

Only it’s not about killing, because Daniel, disturbingly, never had problems in that department. No, this is much more complicated, and Daniel is kinda regretting watching that David Attenborough documentary with Armand last night, the one about the European golden eagles lifting entire-ass goats off cliffs, because he’s pretty sure that’s the bit that inspired Armand’s current teaching efforts.

There’s a cop standing in front of them, staring straight ahead with the creepy, vacant stare of an antique doll. They’re in the middle of an abandoned construction site, the kind that really ticks Daniel off, because the housing crisis is a real thing, but at least there’s nobody to see them; and if anybody comes along, well, Armand can do what he’s done to the cop.

Which brings Daniel back to his predicament.

“Come on, babe,” he tries. “Can’t we do it some other time? I’ll blow you if we go home right now.”

Armand laughs, beautiful like a goddamn midsummer night. “That’s a very tempting offer, beloved, but we both know you’ll do that anyway.”

Yeah, he’s got Daniel there.

“Try lifting one of his arms.”

“God, can’t we just drain him?”

“You just ate,” Armand reminds him, and that’s true, there’s even still some blood in the corner of Daniel’s mouth; he licks at it pensively, staring at the cop. “Go on.”

Thing is, Armand is really so fucking calculated. He’s orchestrated every detail here like the ultimate theatre kid he is: he knows that choosing a cop will remove any sympathy inhibitions Daniel may have otherwise had for a technically still-living subject, and he also knows the cop will trigger Daniel’s fight-or-flight responses, because you can take the boy out of the drug den, but you can’t take the junkie out of the old man.

The empty construction site, the open space and illusion of isolation, and the goddamn stretched-out t-shirt Armand is wearing, the one with a neckline that droops well past his collarbones, because he knows Daniel is weak with horniness when he puts that on.

(Look who’s bartering with desire now.)

“Fine,” Daniel finally breaks, as they both knew he would. “Fine. But don’t get disappointed if nothing happens.”

“You’re my Daniel. I could never be disappointed in you.”

Well, shit, and then he goes and says stuff like that. And he means it too, it’s right there in his eyes. Daniel doesn’t know what to do with him, other than love him.

-

(continue reading on AO3)

[jellystarjam]

cute little montessori-inspired moodboard :D i love a bright orange-&-blue color pallet!!

[perplexingluciddreams]

post of some disability aids/equipment that i hope for in future. (or think could help me). with pictures.

some of this is specific for disability, some is more general.

inspired by @aleswell post!

my body is very weak and floppy (low muscle tone). also have joint hypermobility. i need a lot of support to hold my body in good posture.

i need to be very reclined/tilted majority of the time. i spend a lot of time in bed, semi-propped-up with pillows. i hate my current bed a lot. it doesn't support my body well at all. it is also way too high - hard to get in and out of bed.

even if i get good supportive seating, i will still probably need to spend majority of my time in bed.

beds:

first picture is a montessori floor bed shaped like a house. i could put blankets or sheets over the top and make a safe den! i could make it really comfy for sleep. and low to ground is good. also wish for more "normal" bed like this one.

second picture is a safespace. basically same reason for why i like it. but also it is safer and maybe more comfy than the wood. it just looks nice to be in there.

third picture is a profiling bed. this is the best option for controlling my position and good support to sit in bed and keep everything aligned. but it is medical looking and i don't like it. it doesn't look as comfy or safe.

i wish there was a way to "merge" these into something perfect for me...

special chair:

picture is the Hydroflex chair from Careflex company. it comes with different back options and support options. so not always look exactly like this. it tilts and reclines with a remote. i think this is the chair i will try soon!

i hope 🤞🏻 if i get this, i will be able to go downstairs and be somewhere else than bed all day. (but that comes with its own challenges of being around people and more sensory input).

wheelchair/buggy:

first picture is a Permobil powerchair (don't know which one).

second picture is an adult buggy. brand is Axiom i think.

a powerchair would be great for tilt/recline options. BUT i don't know if i could manage to drive it myself all the time. it takes so much focus and effort and energy. and so hard, especially outside. i have low awareness of surroundings, so i feel scared and unsafe in powerchair outside.

so maybe a buggy or manual wheelchair with high level of seating support would be better. but i might get frustrated about can't control where i go. 🤷🏻‍♂️

for both of these, i would need a lot more extra supports and straps.

things i already have:

this exact bath lift, and this exact non-custom powerchair (bad👎🏻). i also have a stairlift (not this one).

the bath lift is good 👍🏻. but i can barely sit in this wheelchair. i hate it. it has no support and i can't tolerate this upright position for long at all. and struggle to manage drive it.

but it is the only reason i can go to appointments. so i am still grateful to have it. just hate the pain and fatigue and the difficult-ness.

sorry it got so long! i hope it is read-able.

[upontherisers]

if you're feeling it, could i please request "playing with each other’s fingers" for an oc of your choice👀 — @shoshiwrites

happy (belated) bday my dear shosh. here is a very very belated prompt to celebrate. this is an AU i've had for years but @loveduringthewar's beautiful West Wing AU inspired me to get some real writing done on it. summary: poet laureate mattie james is dutifully protected by secret service special agent joe toye.

a friday in autumn, 2:19 pm

Joe finds himself in a chair across from Mattie, who’s surrounded by a gaggle of vigilantly curious middle schoolers as she holds his palm and moves his hand around.

“See?” she says, angling his fingers toward the fluorescent lights overhead, “it’s too big. So,” she lets his hand down once more and slips her wire work off his finger. “We gotta make it smaller but if we squeeze it—”

“There’ll be a bend, like, a little point.” One of the kids makes a ‘V’ with his hands and Mattie beams. 

“Exactly! Let me show you how to avoid that.” She sits back with the paperclip ring and the circle of kids closes around her once more.

Joe takes a moment to look around for help from any of the other adults in the room, hoping someone else is willing to jump in and play model while he gets back to his very serious job of protecting a representative of the state, but he’s only met with endeared smiles from the teachers and duty-bound refusal from his fellow agents. Bull’s at the door with a sympathetic but ultimately unmoved nod, Bill’s glancing over with a smug, thrilled sneer between chatting to one of the instructors, and Johnny shakes his head before looking at the floor. Joe knows what that means—you made your bed, now lie in it.

Or, as Mattie likes to say, grow a spine.

It’s not like Joe doesn’t have a spine. He spends his days telling people what they can and can’t do, where they can and can’t go, and who they can and can’t speak to, all without getting caught up in their pleas and compromises. This job does not allow for missteps; he’s not a man who takes chances. But this, and but is doing a lot of work here says the Mattie in his brain because she lives there now, this is different.

This is the fourth school they’ve been to this week and it goes the same every time. They arrive to a warm, overenthusiastic welcome from the teachers and an excited-slash-confused-to-borderline-hostile reception from the students. Mattie’s music isn’t necessarily targeted toward the middle grades, her poetry even less so. But she gets up there nonetheless.

Hi, I’m Mattie. I make music and I write poems.

Are you good at it? a kid will ask, always a boy—this one proudly introduced himself as Tyler, always towards the back of the room, always accompanied by giggles.

Mattie shrugs. Some people think I am, some people think I’m trash. And the shock of that admission, from an adult, from a capital-I important adult, breaks the spell of awkwardness and within a few minutes, she’s charmed the whole room. The kids are eating out of her palm. Even the ones who were determined to be difficult have either bought in or are about to.

Joe is now familiar with the mix of admiration and jealousy on a teacher’s face when they realize that Mattie’s nearing a participation rate that Maria Montessori would be jealous of. Johnny leans over to them with a grimace of empathy. It’s not you, it’s her. She’s a magician with this stuff.

Then, her least favorite part. She asks for a volunteer, just for a moment, just for a prompt. We can’t theorize our way into making art. We gotta do it. All the energy that had built up and the excitement on the kids’ faces fizzle. She’ll give it a few seconds and look at the adults in the room rather than the kids, half-pleading, half-resigned, then laugh like that was expected, like she asked them to skydive with no parachute. 

She’ll let off steam about it later, when they’re in the car, when they’re back in her suite at the Library of Congress. How hard is it to set an example? They introduce me like I’m Nelson fucking Mandela but as soon as I ask them to engage for the sake of their kids, crickets.

Mattie, Johnny’ll say, it’s not that—

It’s because they don’t take this seriously. All this talk about how important artistic outlets are, but God forbid you have to do that art yourself. Because that’s not serious, that’s not real. She lets her bag hit the ground harder than necessary and runs her hands over her face before ripping open her beat-up laptop, mumbling to herself. It’s fine. It’s about the kids, it’s about the kids.

Bill’ll send a get a load of this guy eyebrow around to the other three, but Joe usually finds himself nodding in agreement with Mattie. Poet Laureate is quite a title, but it doesn’t mean anything when no one’s listening. People should listen.

So, on this particular Friday as Tyler, who reminds Joe of Bull—well-built and curly blonde—takes the awkward silence to look at him and the rest of the agents rather than his teachers or Mattie, Joe decides that it changes today. He knows the answers to her prompts already—think of a fruit, apple; think of a color that’s not also the color of an apple, purple. A four-man detail has one redundant agent and all entrances and exits have been secured; the other three can spare him for a while.

He pushes off the eastern wall or the room and half-raises a hand before fully raising it when he sees Mattie’s eyes light up upon realizing what he’s doing. He answers her questions only slightly disquieted by the sudden amount of eyes on him, but as she starts her poem building exercise with a thankful wink, he feels pretty good about it. He’s doing the thing, making art instead of theorizing, setting the example.

More like sitting the example. In his two months with Mattie, he forgot that making art could mean… y’know, making it, not just writing it down. It’s the whole point of the exercise, actually. Ten minutes of silent work, discussion, ten minutes of work with light conversation—Mattie’s the queen of light conversation, then presentations from anyone who wants to. The only rules are that you have to make something, whether it be using the poem prompt she walks them through or something from the classroom supplies at your teacher’s discretion.

The kids who wanted to write set off with their paper and pencils and Mattie walks around for a bit before settling into an empty chair and fiddling with the paper clips a girl is using crafts. Tyler wanders by first, then two of his friends, next a few of their friends, and soon, there’s a bundle of 7th graders watching Mattie make a paper clip ring. And of course, they want to make one too and of course, Mattie needs a model for show because if all of the kids are making one and she’s teaching, then who’s driving the boat? And of course Joe gets pulled in because he volunteered so nicely before.

The circle of children parts like the Red Sea and he’s face-to-face with Mattie again as she wraps the ring around his finger, her hands working around his to fit the metal securely. She’s full of focus, eyes locked on where their skin meets, still in her shoulders and steady in her breathing in the way she only ever is when she’s in the zone. He wants to laugh at the dedication to this tiny strip of wire, but he won’t, not in present company; he can’t have them think he’s laughing at her.

Maybe you don’t have to have volunteers, Johnny offers after their third visit with no adult participation.

Mattie sighs. It’s about the principle of the thing.

Oh, Bill snarks, the principle of the thing.

The kids don’t need to follow the teachers, they follow you just fine, Bull says from his spot at the door.

Johnny nods sagely. Yeah, monkey see, monkey do.

Well, Mattie says, tilting her head in sad consideration, maybe I’d hoped there’d be better monkeys.

Joe is being a better monkey, so no laughing. Instead, he looks from her face to their hands, wondering as always what she sees and how she sees it. It’s not just metal and space to her because nothing is ever just anything to her.

Her brain’s wired different than ours, as Bill says. And Johnny says, your brain isn’t wired at all.

He’s sure she’s watching the steel atoms bump into each other or she’s far beyond, watching the solar system spin on its galactic arm, just a blip in the rapidly approaching collision with Andromeda. Or she’s in both places at once, and here with him, too, capable of holding onto every eon and tense and time zone at once. He doesn’t understand it, not yet, where the poet ends and the person begins. 

“There!” Mattie says, sitting back. Joe holds still for what seems like far too long as the kids investigate her handiwork and investigate him. Their inquisitive gazes wander from the ring to his face, some of them leaning in to squint at him, evaluative and unimpressed.

Most of them have figured what he’s doing here, with three other guys who have similar enough haircuts and stand with hands clasped at rest in front of them, plain clothed but suspiciously so. He likes kids, or at least, he’s discovered that he likes them more than he thought he would. They don’t understand that it’s some people’s job to fly under the radar. They meet his gaze as much as they meet Mattie’s instead of politely ignoring him and his fellow agents like adults know to do. And when they do look at him, they don’t care. He has to respect that.

He’s watching Mattie shape a paperclip for a kid when Tyler suddenly fills up his entire field of vision, staring wide-eyed like Joe is a fish in a tank. “Do you have a gun?”

“Okay,” Mattie says, reaching out and clapping Tyler on the shoulder, “it seems like we’re ready for presentations! Let’s take our seats.”

Joe bolts out of his chair and takes his place along the wall again as Mattie wraps up.

He doesn’t realize he still has the heart-shaped ring on until they’re back at the Library of Congress and walking into Mattie’s suite. It’s so light that he forgets he's wearing it and it’s only as she sets her bag down and the flower ring one of the girls gave her catches the sun that he remembers what sits on his finger.

He slips it off and holds it out to her. “Here.”

She takes it gently, turning it over in her decorated hands before flipping it back to him like a coin. “It’s a gift,” she says with a wink, “for being my guinea pig.”

His mouth opens to say something, anything, but the words die in his throat. Taking a moment, he studies it for the first time. It’s a delicate thing, slightly springy if he squeezes the sides, more of a square than a circle, and so very Mattie that he’d pick her if someone had him guess at the maker. The heart has been roughly colored by a red Crayola marker which she’d gotten all over a desk and apologetically wiped up and the imperfections of it—the bends that won’t come out from the original shape, the matte sheen from all the handling—makes it more beautiful. 

He doesn’t know where to put it. It’ll fall right off the chain of his cross, and he can’t wear it and risk it getting snagged on something, but he wants it around. He wants to be able to see it and remember a day that was good, a day when he felt like they made a difference, that he made a difference. He hadn’t had a day like that in a long time.

It ends up in his locker at the D.C. headquarters office. Bringing it home feels too… too close, but this is a good spot, halfway between head and heart. He places it on the little shelf in the back next to his spare sunglasses and his old dog tags. He can’t seem to bring those home, either.

Johnny shakes his head as he passes on the way to his locker.

Joe pauses. “What?”

“You can’t say no to that girl.”

This is what Johnny’s amusement was about earlier in the classroom. There was nothing wrong with Joe stepping up or sitting down for a demonstration—it’s encouraged actually, especially at schools, something about giving the Service a friendlier face. Johnny’s gripe is with who Joe stepped up for and why he did it. 

“No favorites, Joe.”

“You think I’m playing favorites?”

“I think you don’t understand her.”

“And you do?”

Johnny shrugs and shuts his locker. “No, but I don’t try to. You can’t let it go.”

“I think,” Joe starts as he follows the other agent down to check-out, “that if we understand her, we can understand this guy and get him.”

It’s the one thing that bothers Joe about this case. Lots of people get threats—protecting those people is eighty percent of his job—but there’s something about the ones Mattie gets that doesn’t sit right with him, hasn’t since the beginning. The letters are the one inroad that anyone has to solve this thing and as more show up with diminishing progress from the combined efforts of the Service and the FBI, he thinks it’s time to get a move on. Maybe the missing link is in the protectee and not the thing they’re protecting her from.

What’s the harm in trying? He keeps thinking about where Mattie gets stuck in her job, where she’s given status but no authority, and how she keeps returning to her painted corner with a brave smile, gracious to wait there until she gets called up to do her tricks again. People listen to poetry but they don’t understand it, she says and that’s not fair. When he looks at Mattie, he sees a girl who should be understood as completely as possible, if ever possible.

Johnny flashes his badge at the front desk sensor and looks back at Joe. “It’s not your job to understand. It’s your job to stand there. What if something happened while you were getting your ring sized?”

Joe’s offended. “Sitting down means I’m compromised?”

“Getting involved means you’re compromised.” Johnny’s facing him now that they’re both in the exit lobby, a pensive look on his face as his bag is slung over his shoulder. “Look, Joe, they’re not paying us to think on this one. If you think something’s up, talk to Dick, otherwise, this is not the kind of work you bring home.”

Right, ‘cause Johnny’s a family man now, with a wife and a kid and a baby on the way.

“I didn’t bring it home,” Joe says.

Johnny nods but his eyes are far away. “Yeah, but you thought about it.”

Silence falls for a moment before Johnny sniffs and shoulders his bag. “Who’s on duty tonight?”

“Talbert and Grant,” Joe replies.

Johnny nods. “Make sure they take a look at the cameras, see if they can figure out why they’re down.”

“Yeah,” Joe sighs and heads out with a nod.

The drive home is quiet except for the radio and as he pulls into the parking lot, one of Mattie’s songs comes on the folk station he’s been lurking on. He sits for as long as it takes to play—eyes closed, head rested on his seat—and lets her voice wash over him. She sings like she speaks, brassy and casual, effortless, not having to reach for what she wants, alluring, magnetic in a way that gets under his skin. He listens for anything that could teach him something and he’s so caught up in the mystery of the girl and the thing that goes bump in the night, that he doesn’t listen to the lyrics until the chorus.

But I’m in so deep, she sings, you know I’m such a fool for you. You got me wrapped around your finger, oh. Do you have to let it linger?

“What the hell do you know about The Cranberries?” he asks to the air, smiling softly. 

It ends too soon, but the cool night outside shocks the spell of Mattie’s voice from his system as he enters his dark apartment. His nights off-duty are more and more standard as this assignment goes on; he’ll check in with his older sister as he gets dinner ready—Mom’s arthritis is flaring worse than usual and his niece is deciding between swim and soccer camp, catch the Pirates highlights on ESPN, do the dishes, then do his readings.

He started them on a curious whim, just to see what the hype was about and ended up standing in the aisle of a Brentwood bookstore for fifteen minutes, engrossed, until the attendant asked him if he was going to be making a purchase. He bought three books, none of them very long, but he’s not a book guy so they’ve been a task to get through.

He read Letters from a Convict Child first because it’s the book that put Mattie on the map and wrote a man out of incarceration and he’s not sure that he got all of it—he’s not sure that he got any of it—but he understands her now, at least more than he did two months ago. Each poem that paints a picture of the world paints a picture of the writer, too, and sometimes he wants to look away as Mattie touches her own raw nerves to get the words out. But he stays for her, he stays because people always look away. That’s why she writes.

As of yesterday, he’s officially halfway through reading grow lemon grow poem by poem and as he finds tonight’s selection, he’s struck by the opening lines. 

Wire hurts my hands, makes my fingers stink But I bend another paperclip

He underlines in his shitty pencil and reads the poem over and over again until his eyes start to droop close and he drags himself to bed wondering what Mattie’s night was like, if she offered her dinner to Tab and Chuck like she does he and Johnny, what music she played. It was Nina last week, but she’d spent the morning humming the Lumineers. Did she skip eleven songs before settling on the twelfth, or did she demand silence and curl up on the chair in the corner of her patio, legs tangled together, and write until Tab had to shuffle her to bed?

Did she make them rings despite the way the metal presses lines into the pads of her fingers? What did she say? Did either of them listen? 

He jolts up in the dull gray light of morning, scrambling to shut off his alarm as his chest heaves. In the bathroom, he splashes his face with cold water until the scenes of his dreams—lemon trees, paper clip rings, the shredded and smoking hull of an armored vehicle in the desert, a shadowed figure slipping a letter under Mattie’s door—wash away with the chill. His phone dings.

From B. Guarnere: Ur on coffee duty. Hurry up

[soullikethesea]

It's a red-cheeks day again... the ones I get when I'm overtired.

Saw the physio this morning and she was such an expert! She was also able to help me and gave me a rough estimate of how long it will take to get my wrist better.

Then also had work meetings and it seems like I may get another opportunity to develop education and that's so cool! I talked to this supervisor who is really inspiring and a good role-model and she said that my department is really lucky to have me. 🥰

Tomorrow I have the yearly conversation with my manager, who is a new person now. Even though I know that everything is fine, it's always a bit anxiety-provoking. We'll see what tomorrow brings... For my other job I also have to do some extra things...

Work stuff can be so cool and exciting sometimes. I know Maria Montessori said that play is the work of childhood. I'd argue that work has the potential to be the play of adulthood...

[lillibetbunny]

heya! sorry for not posting as much as I used to, i'm a bit overwhelmed with school. nonetheless, I still made progress with my Latin learning journey, and since the exam season has passed, i decided to teach you all a common phrase again and explain the grammar behind it.

carpe diem

contrary to popular belief, carpe diem doesn't mean seize the night, but in fact seize the day. carpe is the singular imperative form of carpere, which means to harvest, pluck or seize. the imperative form of a word is used when it is expressed as a command.

diem is the singular accusative form of dies, which can be translated as day. in latin, the noun that is doing the action is called nominative, while the noun that is receiving the action is called accusative. In this phrase, diem (day) is being seized, that's why it is in the accusative form. In English, subjective nouns are the same as nominative, and objective nouns are also known as accusative.

Here's a tip for remembering the differences between nominative and accusative. accusatives are being accused. also, singular accusatives always end with ''m'!

thank you so much for reading, i really appreciate it 🥹please tell me if I made any mistakes, i will correct it asap, feel free to leave feedback below :)

p.s. i recently made some worksheets for little kids that are inspired by montessori, please check them out if you're interested! https://lovelillibetbunny.gumroad.com/

byeee <3

[germanpostwarmodern]

Together with Rudolf Steiner’s Waldorf education Maria Montessori’s method represents the most common alternative pedagogical principle. But in contrast to Steiner Montessori didn’t lay out specific architectural principles for her schools and educational institutions since in fact Montessori education doesn’t necessarily require a specific architectural environment. Together with Dutch architect Ad Grimmon Montessori nevertheless developed an ideal school, a prototype that was never realized and only survived in a couple of drawings annotated by her. Grimmon actually was a central figure within Montessori’s Dutch network and the Netherlands were a fertile ground for her progressive education. Between 1933 and 1936 even the Rietveld-Schröder House was used as a Montessori school.

This episode is also included in Steve Lawrence and Benjamin Staehli’s book „Montessori Architecture. A Design Instrument for Schools“ recently published by @park_books But aside from a brief excursion into the history of Montessori education and architecture the book first and foremost contains a collection of patterns and projects identified by the authors. In the patterns section Lawrence and Staehli introduce 28 of them, each of them subdivided into „idea“, „assignment“ as well as 7 levels which reproduce the design process from large to small, i.e. for example space allocation or materials, lighting or furniture. Since Montessori education is targeted at encouraging the natural interests of children and helping them follow their innate path of psychological development aspects like the absence of doors or the use of the floor for education and play are integral while others are of a more optional nature. 

In general the authors underscore the transculturality of their design instruments, a characteristic that also shows in the „repertoire“ section which collects several international examples of Montessori architecture, each of them comprehensively illustrated and supplemented with plans, sections and perspectives.

„Montessori Architecture. A Design Instrument for Schools“ is a fascinating compendium that offers plenty of inspiration well-beyond the world of Montessori education. 

[nabilarteducatedkids]

Mystical Forest Homeschool Flashcards

enchanting set of educational tools designed to engage young learners in a magical forest adventure. Each card features captivating icons that represent mystical elements of the forest, sparking curiosity and imagination. These flashcards are perfect for homeschool environments, blending education with fun as children explore concepts like numbers, letters, shapes, and nature in a whimsical setting. With vibrant illustrations and a mystical theme, learning becomes an exciting journey through the enchanted woods, making education both effective and enjoyable for kids! Ideal for Montessori and preschool use.

Dive deeper into the wonders of learning with "Mystical Forest Homeschool Flashcards." This enchanting set transports kids into a magical forest filled with icons of mythical creatures, plants, and hidden treasures. Perfect for homeschoolers, these flashcards make essential early childhood lessons—like math, language, and nature—captivating and fun. Each card is thoughtfully designed to foster curiosity, ignite imagination, and strengthen foundational skills in a creative and engaging way.

Whether you're teaching letters, numbers, or shapes, these flashcards bring a sense of adventure and discovery to every lesson. The vibrant artwork and whimsical forest theme ensure that children stay interested and motivated as they learn, making them an excellent resource for Montessori settings, preschool activities, and homeschooling families.

Order now and bring the magic home!

[senderosquesebifurcan]

Preparing the Environment

One of the tenets of Montessori pedagogy is the "prepared environment". This means that the person in charge of the environment (in a school the guide, in a home the caregiver) has prepared it ahead of the arrival of the child so that when they arrive it offers them pathways to explore, learn and grow that do not require direct adult mediation.

I spend a lot of offline time, when no students are present, preparing the environment. So that it's ready. So that when they get there, they can get to work and it literally does not require me. This preparation has so many facets. Setting up the tables in such a way as to encourage sharing work and collaborating. Making sure the materials are present and organized in a way that makes sense and can be put away by them. Are there enough rubber bands, enough paper, enough pairs of scissors? Enough, but not too many (never one for each learner, except maybe graphite pencils) -- again to encourage sharing and collaboration. Too much of any material leads to a disregard for it. It's not that materials should be scarce. It's that they are precious, and their use should be intended and intentional. Tools and materials must be clean, in good working order and - here's the most evanescent of the environment preparation tenets - inviting and pleasingly arranged.

I put an alligator skull on the shelf. I tilt it. I take it away. I put it next to the cow skull. Remove it. Look at the shelf again. Think about what the specimens are for and how they are used. Put the alligator skull back. Take three steps away from the shelf. Crouch to kid height. Look. Yes. That is inviting. Pleasing. Beckons the imagination. Now, I look at the next shelf. I have thirty six more shelves to do.

It takes time. Energy. Thoughtfulness. And because it is invisible, behind the curtain, no one knows it happens. But it is essential.

Yesterday as I was working on the room a friend and colleague arrived and asked to look around. In a moment, a person she was meeting at school arrived. A person who had never been in our school or in a Montessori elementary environment. Like many as they arrive (I see this often on tours) he stepped into the room and his eyes lit up. "Oh this is nice," he said. Yes. It is intentionally so. His eyes roamed the room, fell on a book on a display stand: Powers of Ten. (It's a fabulous book, based on this movie:).

Once his eyes hit the book, he walked over and began to babble excitedly. He had seen the video and was explaining how incredible it was, how eye-opening, how cool. I invited him to look at the book, to pick it up and touch it. He spent a quiet minute leafing through the book, sharing it with the friend.

When the environment is prepared, it inspires, enlightens, invites. Montessori talked about it as seducing the child, and that has some unfortunate connotations that she would not intend, but the effect is real, and it doesn't only work on children.

I love this part of the work. I was prepared for it by the many years I spent writing, I think. It is solitary and requires all my best brain cells in top form, but it is both essential and invisible.

[bujjify]

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