“The need for connection is primal, as fundamental as the need for air, water, food.” Dean Ornish
Red. Splotchy. Shaky voice. If you’ve ever seen me speak in front of a group of people - I want to apologize. I’ve been listening to podcasts about powerful women public speaking. They advise to take yourself out of it -make the room feel comfortable. I’m fairly confident I’ve never done this. A few weeks ago, however, I reluctantly swallowed my fears and taught a group of about 25 teachers the beginning of the Montessori Early Childhood Language course. During the months leading up to class while I was slowly marinating in a daily bath of agonizing anxiety, I also had more than a few moments of awe at how lucky I am.
I took my first Montessori training almost 7 years earlier. At that time I didn’t even like to volunteer to be the pretend child in the lesson in front of everyone. We were a motley crew, from many different backgrounds, with varied educational and teaching experiences, socioeconomic status, age, language, etc. There were teachers who had been teaching for years before discovering Montessori and there was the girl who fell asleep every day in class by 3pm. When you spend that much time with one group of people, you share a bond by the end. You are survivors, and weary travelers on a quest that can, at times, feel lonely, and at others feel like you share the secret to saving humanity.
In getting prepared to teach class some of the teachers at Suzuki sat with me and went through their whole Language binders. They brought materials from their classrooms, and patiently read through lessons with me as I practiced. Parents and teachers gave words of encouragement. They were more confident in me than I was in myself.
One of the lessons I practiced for class was writing secret messages with a child. I wrote a “bucket-filler” message, which tied back to a book we read about grace and courtesy. The book talks about how everyone has a bucket inside and things we say or do can fill up another person’s bucket or take away and leave them feeling empty. I wrote her a message - something like “Sarah is working really hard!” and she wrote me one back. She wrote “Ms. Casey U mak my hart hape.”
One of the really special things about becoming a Montessori teacher, is the community you build along the way. You embark on this journey with a group of people, who hopefully become a source of steadfast support and camaraderie, or at the very least, a group you connect with and keep tabs on the amazing things they accomplish in their careers. You have the privilege of being surrounded by sources of infinite light and inspiration - constant reminders of why you do this work - the children. You have fellow teachers who have been through similar programs or are just beginning their journey and may need your support or find strength in your story along the way. And you have a group of parents (some easier to get along with than others) with whom you have the opportunity to share your practice with and perhaps influence their approach at home.
There’s no denying there is something special about being a teacher, but I think we often overlook the crux of it. We forget to pause in wonder at all of the connections this “job” has afforded us the chance to have. And when we have the solid ground of a supportive foundation or community, we feel confident enough to try new things. To continue on our journey of discovery and learning. We feel confident enough to fly.
“We shall walk together on this path of life, for all things are part of the universe and are connected with each other to form one whole unity.” Maria Montessori
