Showing posts with label Schools. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Schools. Show all posts

Thursday, July 23, 2009

Weird Moments on Facebook

I only joined Facebook for work. For a long time, I didn't join Facebook, but rather watched carefully those who did and learned what I could about different ways to approach it. In the end, I decided to have a pretty limited network, so I have a specific mix of "friends."

My general ground rules for myself are:

1. To only "make friends" with folks somehow related to my work: colleagues, members of my past or former congregation, and UU folks with whom I am otherwise connected.

2. Not to put out "friend requests" on a regular basis, not because I wouldn't be happy to have a large network, but rather because somehow I just feel weird asking folks to be my friends. I dunno.

Every once-in-a-while, I contemplate having a non-work Facebook account. I wonder, what would I do with it? Would I make online connections with folks I am meeting now who aren't UU? Would I try to reconnect with folks from my past?

Tonight, just out of curiosity, I did a search for folks who graduated from my high school the same year I did. I would NOT recommend this activity to other folks with memory loss.

It is a bit on the spooky side.

I could recall a few specific folks, once I saw their pictures, but for the most part, it was like walking through the halls of high school and seeing ghosts.




The names sounded so familiar-- I could even hear myself saying them-- and the faces looked vaguely like people I should know, but I couldn't place these memories into any context.

Was she one of my friends?
Was he? Were they?
Who ARE these people?

Also, seeing folks made me really glad we didn't have (as far as I know) a 10 year high school reunion. Because from the snapshots and little blurbs of info, anyway, everyone looks happy, healthy, successful, absolutely BEAUTIFUL, and like they are doing very well. I am happy and stuff too, but I just know I would walk in and start feeling like I was in high school, or middle school all over...so insecure! Like I'll never quite be as worthy. Yikes! Crazy how quickly I can return to that place in my mind, despite the lack of memories.

Another issue to work on, I suppose.

Thursday, June 18, 2009

Divinity School Applications

I have convinced myself there is no way I can get into Harvard, let alone get the required massive financial aid to go (not to mention get the part-time student status required, which will require a special exemption). In case I get the courage to apply, I woke up in the middle of the night the other night and scribbled out a first draft of a "statement of purpose," one of the items required for admission to Harvard's Master of Divinity program.

It felt really genius at the time, but as with most "2:00am writing," if I use anything from it at all, it will need a lot of work.

Meanwhile, I thought I could do myself a favor by putting out an initial request for my letters of recommendation, even though the school does not yet have its recommendation letter forms (which it specifies it needs) online for next year's applicants. While I was online looking for the forms, however, I read something I apparently missed previously: "At least TWO of these letters must be solicited from college, university, or seminary professors who have taught the applicant and are therefore well acquainted with the applicant's academic qualifications." Ah, shit.

I graduated from my most recent school experience in 2001, if memory serves. Since that time, the program I was in underwent a serious overhaul, and I just went searching online to discover that *none* of the faculty from my days in attendance are with the university anymore. So now I have to go hunt them down, and hope that I can find them, and then hope that they are doing something that will look good to freaking HARVARD on letterhead. And THEN hope that they actually remember me (I was an outstanding student of course, LOL, but who knows...their names have since faded from my own memory, so I wouldn't blame them if the same was true for them in regards to me).

Not only that, but suddenly I am starting to wonder if I was supposed to send a thank you note to the Harvard professor who allowed me to sit in on his class (oops!). And if I shot myself in the foot with my inability to attend more classes than I did.

Cold feet time. I am feeling really defeated, and I've hardly begun. My goal was to work through most of the application materials (as well as FASFA materials, etc. for financial aid) over the summer, so that in the fall, when the application is published, I can focus on that. The fall is an immensely busy time at work in any case, and I figured I was doing myself a favor.

But I am terrified, and that makes me simultaneously obsess and procrastinate. Not a good combo!

I think it would help if I could get my self to stop imagining all the other grand candidates. I am who I am. But suddenly the statistics I referenced a few months ago look different. Before I saw:

Applied 677
Admitted 253
Incoming 160
MDiv 50
MTS 100
ThD 6
ThM 4


...and thought, "hey 253 out of 677 isn't bad at all. And since most of the incoming students are MTS students, there probably weren't that many MDiv applicants."

But now I look at it, and think, my chances of being admitted could hover somewhere in the 60-70% range, and probably plenty of those admitted last year didn't get necessary financial aid, because of those that were admitted, about 40% aren't going. Besides, what if there were plenty of MDiv applications, but they just don't accept as many into the program so my chances are even less. Or what if they gave out less financial aid for those studies or...(ad nauseum).

By the way, if you are curious, all the application materials are listed about 1/5 or 1/6 of the way down this page: http://www.hds.harvard.edu/afa/apply/requirements.html.

(I am assuming if I prepare all these materials, I'll have most everything I'll need for the other school to which I am applying as well.)

The big question is, will I apply or won't I?

Friday, April 10, 2009

Seminary and Commitment(/Focus)

I sent off a thank you note today to the Dean of Students at one of the seminaries I am looking at. She had personally invited me over to the open house at her school, and she made sure I received a very warm welcome. It was a very good experience, and I've regretted that I've been so remiss in sending her a note.

It's been a little while since I've done a lot of thinking about seminary. I attended at least one more class over at Harvard since I last posted, but since the first time I went over to Harvard I got a $50 parking ticket I can't afford to pay and the second time I went over to Harvard my car died, I admit that my energy for going there when I don't have a commitment to do so is a little diminished. The spring has also been really, really full of meetings at work and G. has been complaining that I haven't been home enough. So it's on the backburner just slightly, which is okay because I feel more certain now that I will apply to two seminaries this fall/winter and that I will hold off on a decision about which one to attend until I at least find out if I am accepted.

I'm sort of in that lull between having a plan and needing to act on that plan. I will start working on my applications over the summer, but the official Harvard application form doesn't even get posted until the fall anyway.

A friend of ours, with whom we are creating a shared garden this summer, said while we were deciding when to start germinating seeds, "Let's do this today so I don't lose interest." I laughed quietly inside, noting "at least I am not the only one." Remember when I posted about pet frogs and my problem with commitment, which seems to stem from cold feet about anything which at some point required a decision on my part? I hate to admit it, but I think part of the problem is that I am also addicted to stirring things up because I like my life stirred. I like orderly chaos ;-). And yes, I know, that is an oxymoron. G jokes with me that just when things get settled and she is getting comfortable, I say, "So what next?" It is also a matter of attention span. My brain goes a million directions a minute. It's easy for me to forget how many balls I am juggling, and pick up another one without realizing that this means one that is already in the air will fall.

I think this lull is a danger zone for me because it would be easy to get interested in something else that delays my application. Don't misunderstand. I am going to apply. My sense of calling and my interest in seminary is not fleeting. Not in the least. I've been feeling this for eight years or more now. This is more a shift of calling than anything. But it would be easy for me to get distracted and do something else and then find myself this autumn in a position in which applying isn't going to be possible. Then I would have to put this off again, and I don't want to do that, nor should I.

I'm not sure how to keep myself on track, though, other than keeping some things on my calendar reminding myself to work on my applications this summer. I've already done that. So the coming months will definitely be a test.

(Dear Lord, oh how I hope you will soothe this ADHD soul of mine.)

Friday, March 6, 2009

What a Wild and Amazing Couple of Days!

Yesterday I went to Harvard Divinity School for a seminar/panel presentation on religious responses to intimate partner violence. The speakers included a Rabbi, an Imam, and several ministers including one who operates an interfaith Safehaven program. It was an interesting seminar, and I found it valuable to commit some time to this topic, especially in anticipation of a "Safe Congregations" meeting I will be attending next Wednesday in the church I serve.



After the program, I thanked the speakers I could catch, and in particular the two women who appeared to have organized the seminar (I took an incorrect exit thus was late and missed introductions, so don't know for sure). I let them know that I am both a religious professional and a prospective divinity school student. Little did I know that I was chatting with the Dean of Students from Andover-Newton Theological School. She promptly gave me the proper hints to clue me in, and then encouraged me to come check out the school. She took my email so we could schedule a time to chat, about another topic but also about the school. And she told me there was an open house the following day (today) at Andover-Newton, which she urged me to attend.



I decided to go ahead and go check it out, and I am glad I did. It was a very worthwhile and satisfying day.



The school was beautiful, especially their new chapel. But what really impressed me was the absolute warmth and hospitality of everyone from the president of the school to the student employees who took part in the day. I was greeted immediately and with such gracious hospitality (the kind we all strive to express in our churches), and it wasn't long before the Dean spotted me and with a warm smile and hug drew me into the crowd. Shortly she introduced me to another member of the staff with: "This is who I emailed you all about yesterday evening." Wow! Throughout the day, whenever I talked to faculty and staff, they would say, "I am so glad you came today." I truly was blown away by the welcome.



There were several other things that struck me during the day:



1. This school was not only the first theological school in the country, but also the first graduate school of any type in the country! Its tradition has truly shaped the mold for theological education as it is known today. It has a very rich history from which to draw, but it also seems incredibly well-positioned as a forward-thinking, cutting-edge institution. They have just totally restructured their curriculum because they are well aware of the reality that the 21st minister is working in a totally different One of the themes of the day was

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Visting Harvard Divinity School Classes

Cool! I just found out I can visit Harvard Divinity School classes this spring! I've now scheduled time in my calendar to visit these classes:
  • Unitarian and Universalist History in the United States
  • Introduction to the New Testatment: History and Interpretation
  • Sex, Gender, and Sexuality
  • Judaism: The Liturgical Year
  • The First Epistle to the Corinthians

I'll be visiting classes through April.

Harvard Divinity School

Hmmm. I guess this is evidence that divinity school may still be in the cards because I found myself wandering over to the Harvard Divinity School website today.

They are no longer accepting applications for '09-10. Folks are supposed to check back in the fall for 2010-11 application info. Why do I always think of this right *after* the application deadline?? Same thing happened last year. Oh well. It is probably not the time.

I did notice these statistics on the HDS website:

Class entering fall 2008:
Applied 677
Admitted 253
Incoming 160
MDiv 50
MTS 100
ThD 6
ThM 4
Students of color 24%
International 8%
Female 58%
Male 42%
Age range 21-58
Average age 27
Student religious affiliations more than 30

...and..."Financial aid is distributed on an equitable and sustained basis to all students who demonstrate financial need. The policies and practices of the office coalesce in producing a community of students pursuing scholarly and ministerial goals that embrace the ethnic, theological, and denominational diversity of our world."

Saturday, November 22, 2008

Feeling Okay

So I posted yesterday about how freaked out I was about the economy and job security. Part of why I was freaked out is specific to how the congregation I am serving has learned to approach money and staffing over the years. I don't think it is in the best interests of the congregation to cut program staff. With enough time, that will hopefully change. In the meantime, as I said, I need a plan B.

In just twenty minutes of conversation, G. and I were able to come up with at least one plan B. It makes me feel good to know that we have at least one option, and that if we thought on this some more, we could likely come up with another plan or two.

My plan:

Should the congregation decide to cut my salary, they will need to be aware of a realistic picture of what that will mean in terms of staff hours. What I will do as prep is to create a list of all the work I do, and should it come up that they will be cutting my salary, I will let them know how many hours that will give them and ask them which part of my work they would like to cut. This will not be something with which they will have experience, but I think it is important in part because on a reduced salary, I will need to have enough time to have a second job. Also, it will be important for the congregation to have full information about what they are asking of me.

Our plan if I am then working, say for example, 25 hours per week, is to open a home-based Montessori-inspired half-day preschool for six children (in addition to our own). This is something that would be very exciting to offer our community, use both our skills very well, fill a need we believe there is in our community, fit well within our lifestyle, and enhance the education of our own kids to boot because I'll have more time for teaching. It's not an easy road in the least, but it is a challenge I would enjoy and something I feel very passionately about in any case, and I feel really good about this option.

Of course, we are still hoping and praying that I will be able to continue working full time with my current salary, but having a plan I can get excited about feels much, much better.

The challenges will be much bigger if they can't fund my position at all, or if they cut my salary, but not enough to give me time for a second job. I'll continue to think out my approach if either of those end up being the case.

Tuesday, April 15, 2008

Since We're on This Topic...What To Look For in a Montessori School

Based on a series of related discussions on an internet forum I visit, I came up with the following format for evaluating Montessori schools I am visiting as I decide where M. should go to school.

Because I can't format this post the way I have things formatted on the page (I created the one double-sided page form in Publisher), I will just kind of describe the format for you. As many folks are unfamiliar with Montessori, I will also make other notes so you understand the significance of each item. All notes about formatting or significance will be in yellow.

I think when visiting Montessori schools, especially, it is helpful to have this kind of a form. The name "Montessori" is not trademarked, and any school can call itself a Montessori school, even if it has nothing at all Montessori in its approach.











MONTESSORI SCHOOL
TOUR SUMMARY




(each of the following six items are short-answer items)
Name of School:
Location of School:
Tuition:
Notes on Financial Programs:

Notes on Teacher Training:
Experience With Children Who Have Special Needs:


Observations (each of the following have "yes" and "no" checkmark boxes underneath):



Children choosing activities themselves, having sustained focus on the activities, and caring for the classroom and materials. In a true Montessori school, this is what you would observe. During the "work period," the children will be working alone or in small groups, generally of their own choosing. Teachers are available to help students as needed, but are generally "hands off." In fact, if a child asks for help, the teacher may provide assistance, but in doing so will try to provide assistance with only the portions of the activity that the child truly can't do independently. The assistance provided will also be a springboard for teaching.

Work period close to 3 hours. A Montessori work period is generally 3 hours long, as Montessori observed this as the optimal time for children to work independently in her highly structured enviornment. During this time, children will go through various cycles of being more or less active with the materials. The children may also remain focused on just one or two work items or may work on an unlimited number of items during this time.




Children working and helping one another in a natural way (without looking for approval or praise from adults.

Older children giving lessons to the younger ones. You may or may not observe this during your visit, depending on what happens on that particular day, what the children are involved in, or how "normalized" the classroom has become. For example, at the start of the school year, you are less likely to observe this. However, it is important to note that this is a critical element of the Montessori experience for children. The classes are purposefully multi-age, and the ideal classroom has a balance between each age (for example, 6 3-year olds, 6 4-year olds, 6 5-year olds, and 6 6-year olds in a 3-5 year old classroom with 24 children).





Children solving their own disputes without adult intervention. If adult intervention is involved, please make exact notes. In the Montessori setting, children are taught conflict-resolution skills and given opportunities to use them. In my personal opinion, some classroom social behaviors DO require intervention, but the important thing is that adult intervention is not a common occurrence in the classroom for two reasons: (1) Children are being taught skills so that adult intervention is less necessary and (2) The norm for classroom behaviors reduces behavioral management issues.

Minimal behavioral management provided does not involve yelling, threatening, physical restraint, etc. Montessori teachers should be a calm, quiet presence in the classroom. I would look for behavioral management techniques that are done privately and quietly whenever possible. It is also, of course, expected that the teacher will behave in respectful, gentle ways.

An orderly, pleasant environment, with materials that are attractive, complete, and well-cared for. This is sort of the "trademark" sign of a quality Montessori school. You will walk in and there will be shelves all around the room with beautiful materials that you want to touch and get your hands on. Everything will appear orderly, and the enviornment should be warm and inviting for young people. The care taking of materials should be done by the children. You should not see adults cleaning up after children or following the children around reminding them to clean up after themselves. Instead, children will be accustomed to getting items of the shelves, using a work mat (much of the classroom will likely be floor space where the children will be working on work mats) to denote their workspace, and putting the items back after they are finished with each one.





The presence of traditional Montessori materials. Minimal “toys,” and all toys have a specific lesson-based purpose. Imaginative play is wonderful and important for children. It is not happening enough for too many children these days. However, the Montessori classroom is a playful space for focused children's work. This is why I support the idea of 5-days-per-week (for consistency...I truly believe this is better for children, in opposition to every-other-day, etc.) half-day programs for young children. I think it is important that they have a lot of time each day for open-ended, unstructured play at home. Recess is also great for kids in Montessori school. But while they are in the classroom, they will be focused and working. Not because they are forced to do so, but because they are drawn to do so by their own development in combination with the attractive nature of the materials and the prepared environment the teacher has set up. In other words, they will not be unhappy, but instead will enjoy having meaningful ways to interact with their world. If you are not familiar with Montessori materials, you might want to check out a catalog online just to familiarize yourself with the types of items you should see. For example: http://www.nienhuis.com/index.php





Child sized furniture and equipment, and materials at the children’s level, set up in orderly and accessible ways. Here is another "trademark" sign. The children's work is at their level, well organized and easy for them to access, one piece of work at a time. Ideally, all sinks, toilets, etc. are also at their level (and if they aren't, step stools or other accessibility features should be provided). You won't see desks, but you may see a minimal number of small tables at the children's levels (as well as lots of floor space for work).





Children moving about and talking to one another freely, but still respecting each other's space.
You will see children going up to the shelves, setting up their work space, working, and then returning work to the shelves. Hopefully you will see some children choosing to work together and some children choosing to work on their own (this should be a cooperative agreement made between the children based on community interest and their own interest). The children should be walking around one another's work mats. There should be a limited number of work materials so that children are encouraged to negotiate their use and interact (for example, in a class with 30 children, you might see a handful of scissors on the shelf rather than 30). Children should ask one another if they want to join in work together, and should not touch one another's work without permission from the child to whom the work belongs.





Teachers who speak quietly and respectfully to the children.




Teachers giving individual or small group lessons. In an AMI classroom, this should be the way lessons are most commonly given. There may be a "community/circle time," particularly at the close of the day, but (1) this should not be a place generally used for group lessons, and (2) this should not cut into the work period by any significant amount. In an AMS classroom, you may see circle time used for the teaching of particular lessons depending on the type of lesson. Again, however, check to make sure that this does not cut too much into the period and that children are still given many lessons individually or in small groups. Also, note that once a lesson is given, the child is free to choose that work or not. Of course, if the lessons are given when the child is properly ready, the child will likely be very interested in the new work. But the child may or may not choose this as his or her work at any given time. When the child does choose the work, the teacher will not interfere in general. You may notice children trying different ways of completing the lesson, and even making mistakes without any teacher correction, involvement, or intervention (though some items will be self-correcting or will have a "control" that allows the child to check his/her own work).




The lesson-giving generally involves little talking on the part of the teacher. In fact, it may involve little eye contact between the student and teacher. Instead, the teacher demonstrates the use of the materials and interest in the work, looking carefully at what s/he is doing, and narrating just a bit to give the students some specific information or instructions. The child during the lesson will generally watch without interfering, as the child knows the lesson can become his/her own work soon. Then the teacher returns the lesson to the shelf, and the child can choose to engage in it on his or her own.





Teachers journaling and/or actively observing the classroom in action, without taking an active role. If you observe a Montessori class over a stretch of time, you will see periods in which the teacher sits back, often off to the side, and just watches the children at work. This time should be plentiful. Many teachers keep a journal with their observations, and this can be very useful as they track what work should be introduced next to each child. In Montessori, introducing lessons at the individual child's proper point of readiness is critical. Unless a teacher is working with a student (or small group of students) on a lesson, you should see the teacher remaining on the children's level but not directly engaged in the children's work. Note that the typical classroom often includes one teacher and one or two assistants.




(the rest of the questions, aside from the last, are short answer questions)
Notes on Depth of Teacher/Administrative Understanding of the Work:
Notes on Depth of Teacher/Administrative Understanding of the Philosophy:




What is the typical daily schedule? What are drop off and pick up procedures? Often pick up and drop off will occur outside of the school, sometimes at the car with a teacher helping the child out. This demonstrates to the child confidence in his/her entry into the school. How does parent-school/teacher communication take place?


What are the clothing and personal item restrictions? Many Montessori schools will ask that children not wear clothing with cartoon or pop culture characters and/or with advertisements (such as a Reebok symbol). This limits detractions in the classroom, eliminates some social issues among children, and eliminates many inequalities in regard to clothing options for children. Also, it is nice when a school allows children to bring a photo from home into the classroom, or for young children to bring a security item. However, this should be limited, as the focus should be on the Montessori materials and the shared classroom environment.


Is the school AMS or AMI or [insert other] oriented? What is the training most common among staff? I look for schools in which the teacher is certified in the method of the school, whether AMS, AMI, or another. I also look for assistants who have some background in Montessori or who are pursuing further Montessori training. Is circle time a regular or unusual part of the class schedule?


How are lessons presented? How is a child’s progress through materials monitored?


Where does the school expect children to be at the end of the 3-6 year old period? Does the school offer Montessori for children older than six, and if so, what percentage of children continue at the school? In schools that have both a lower and an upper elementary, and even a middle or high school, it would be useful to ask the percentage of children continuing at the school at each level. However, take into consideration the local norms and other educational options available as children get older.


How does the school describe it’s approach to discipline? (Also, any concerns such as lack of boundaries placed on restraint, etc.)


Are teachers ever one-on-one with a child or class of children? In what type of scenarios? For what length of time? This is my own thing, not limited to Montessori. I think it is safest for children in teachers and staff are rarely if ever one-on-one with an adult (I don't mean working one-on-one, but rather outside the vicinty of others).


What type of scenario would signal to the teacher/administrator that Montessori or that the school is not a good fit? Are there any types of students who the teacher/administrator feels would have a harder time in the school? What type of testing is required for admission/what’s the admission criterion?


Are there any “specials” offered, and if so, how frequently and at what cost (gym, music, foreign languages, etc…)


What is the teacher turnover rate? Do staff members appear happy and satisfied by their work? What is the level of support and compensation of staff?


How does the school describe its approach to diversity? What is the classroom approach to family structure diversity (adoption, same-sex parents, multiethnic or multiracial families, etc.)? What is the current level of diversity (gender, ethnicity, race, first language, family structure, etc.) among the children, their families, and the staff:


Notes on the facility (playground, library, garden, etc.):


Notes on general sense of the school:

Overal rating (circle): 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 (10=best fit for my child)




**It is also helpful to ask for a copy of the school handbook (so I included a note on my form reminding myself to ask about this), though some schools don't give these out until a child has been admitted.




My letter to that Montessori School

The following is the letter that I sent to Summit Montessori School in Framingham after my visit to their open house and the conversation I described in my notes posted earlier (notes and letter have been edited to conform with my standards for using initials of names only on my blog).

This was not the kind of situation that was "complaint worthy" in terms of making a formal complaint and actually requesting that something specific is done about it and expecting results. I feel pretty certain that I am uninterested in submitting an admissions application for M. in this school, largely because of that particular experience. However, I did feel like it might be useful for the school to be aware of the situation, whether or not they chose to do anything about it. I felt that at the very least, they ought to have the privilege of hearing my experience so they could do with it what they like.


Dear Summit Montessori School,

As the parent of a prospective student who will turn three this week, I came to your open house today. Your Director of Admissions, J.M., noticed and kindly complimented me on a form I made to use in my visits to Montessori schools. She asked me what my source was for this form. It was a form I had created for my own use. I’ve enclosed a copy in case you would find it useful in any manner.

I want to thank you for the time your staff took with me during my visit to the school. I had many questions, and I really appreciated that you were all so patient with me, giving me plenty of time to ask my questions.

The visit to the school was enlightening. I am a parent in [name of city], and we are considering a move to [name of city] if we find the right school in the area. As I am sure is the case with all parents, decisions I am making about my son’s education are deeply important to me and have already involved many hours of research, touring schools (all Montessori, as I have chosen this method because of my background and commitment to the model and my son’s responsiveness to it), and reflection. The decision about the school my child will attend is one I will not enter into lightly.

This was also one of the saddest days in my life as a parent.

I have been a parent for a number of years now. Before adopting my son, and having my younger foster daughter placed with us as a foster-adopt placement, my partner and I had foster parented children up through the age of fifteen. As you can imagine, I have had many profoundly sad and profoundly joyful times. This day will be among the saddest days of parenthood for me because it is representative of the “no admission” sign on so many doors that my son will encounter through his life.

I’ve enclosed some notes from a conversation I had with J.M. toward the end of my visit. I hope they are helpful for you.

Before you read these notes, however, I would like you to know the following things. I have experience with Montessori. My mother formerly taught in a Montessori school. Though I did not attend a Montessori school as a child, my mother brought some of Montessori’s approach into our home life (and also modeled parts of the method for me in the year she homeschooled my younger brother). As an adult whose vocation is Religious Education/Family Ministry, I have studied educational models in great depth, and developed an ever-growing and cherished commitment to Montessori’s method.

I have been trained in a Montessori model of Religious Education (Spirit Play, a version of Godly Play), and prior to moving to Massachusetts, as head of [a Religious Education/Family Ministry in name of city and state], I worked to start a Spirit Play program that tripled in size by its third year. I watched a certified Montessori teacher who had additionally been trained in Spirit Play, as well as teachers trained only in Spirit Play, transform the culture of that ministry. I spent a minimum of one-and-a-half hours per week in a children’s Spirit Play classroom, which included children with special needs.

The “Montessori way” is integrated into my own children’s home life. In fact, I took my son to visit one Montessori school where a teacher commented, “Wow! He takes right to this model. Look at his response, with virtually no orientation from me. He could start tomorrow! What a sweetie!”

My son is a loving, sensitive, gentle, affectionate, curious child with an incredible memory and a strong ability to creatively solve problems. He has experienced a lot in his short life, but demonstrates tenacity, courage, persistence, resilience, and a will to not only survive but to thrive. He has a great sense of humor, and is a delightful human being. He is very loved by a diverse group of kids and adults alike. He wants to learn, and like all people, he wants to participate in the world in meaningful ways.

My son also has developmental delays. He is slightly “behind” other children his age in all areas of development, and significantly delayed in language development. He isn’t able to communicate everything that he understands, and the signs that he is paying attention are not always obvious (for example, he may not make eye contact because the convergence and divergence of muscles in the eyes is tiring), but he is observant and interested in the world. Because his birthparents both require assisted living, it is possible that he will experience some lifelong challenges. Despite this, some days it is possible to forget he has special needs altogether. Like all three year olds, my son is a wonder-filled, observant individual striving to create meaning in his little world.

Though I am not convinced all these things should matter, my son, by the way, can fairly-independently dress and undress himself, can drink out of an open cup, can feed himself (though he struggles some with the use of flatware, which can be tough for him to manipulate, and does tend to resort to finger foods), can walk and run and climb (though he can’t jump), can manage stairs with railing independently, can open and shut doors with care, and is learning to use the toilet. [All of the above are important skills children are taught in a Montessori setting.]

Thank you again for your time, and I do very much hope the enclosed items [primarily the notes from my conversation with Director of Admissions] are useful to you as you continue to grow your lovely school.

Warmly,

S.

A Montessori School Open House Experience

The following are notes from a conversation I had with the Director of Admissions at a Montessori school near us. The post directly above this one will be the letter I sent to the school regarding these notes (I've edited both the notes and the letter to conform with the use of intials as names on this blog). I thought this was interesting enough conversational material for us here. What does this say about where we are as a society when it comes to special needs? What does this say about what is happening in the world of Montessori right now?

Notes From a Conversation With the Montessori School Director of Admissions (J.)
April 8, 2008



At first I wrote down J.’s exact words because I found them so striking, but mid-way through the conversation I became very uncomfortable with the tone of the dialogue, so I did not feel that verbatim notes were necessary for my decision about my son’s placement.

Me (going through the questions on the enclosed form): “What experience does the school have in working with children who have special needs?”

J.: “We don’t really have resources for children with special needs.”

Me: “So you don’t admit children with special needs?”

J.: “No. It’s not fair to the children. We want to do what’s fair for the children.” After a pause she added, “I mean, it depends on the need. Like, a child with cochlear implants. That kind of thing we can handle.” [Note: She did not say a “deaf child.” The implication is that only a child who has had implants would be acceptable. Not a deaf child. I also want to note that earlier in the conversation when I asked what type of scenario would signal a child and Montessori are mismatched, her immediate response was, “When a child can’t listen.”].

She continued: “This is something we tell parents over the phone before they come in, so it doesn’t surprise anyone.”

Me: “No one told me this over the phone.”

J.: “Did you talk about special needs on the phone?”

Me: “Yes, I did.”

What follows is the remainder of the conversation. I am writing this just a couple of hours after my visit, so my memories are still fresh and clear. I believe this is an accurate representation of what was said.

· J. asked me about my son’s special needs, though she didn’t really give me any time for a real explanation. I told her that he has global developmental delays, and was about to share more when she continued talking. J. said that she wasn’t qualified to “know what that means,” but that her sister (if I recall correctly) is a special education teacher and that her sister has told her (J.) that “there are high and low functioning” children with special needs and that “[Summit Montessori School faculty] should read all the reports very carefully.”

· J. asked me if I had “any reports” about my son (she did not specify what type of reports from whom). I told her that I do, and before I had a chance to ask what type of reports, she told me that the faculty would need to see these in order to make an admissions decision. I said something very close to the following words, which I chose very carefully at that point because I wanted to make sure that I was not misunderstanding. “You said earlier that the evaluation process for admission involves an approximately twenty-minute lesson and observation period with a teacher. Are you saying that for children with special needs, the admission decision is not made on this period of observation, but rather from reading reports about the child?”

· I remember the first part of J.’s answer clearly. “Yes.” After another pause, she said: “Well, it depends. We have got to read those reports. We’ve had parents come in and tell us their kids are low needs, and then they come in and the kids are all over the place. Parents don’t really see their children. We can’t just take what they say.” [Note: the tone of J.’s voice indicated to me that she was talking about parents misleading the school.]

“Yes, we usually do twenty minutes of assessment for a child without special needs, but for a child with special needs, it might be forty-five minutes. We would read those reports for sure. Because in the end, yes, parents are important. But this isn’t about the parents. This is about the children.” J. re-stated several times that “reports” would be vital, and she consistently downplayed the role of teacher observation in the assessment of my son’s match with the school. It was clear to her that written “reports” of any type would carry a heavy weight, and that the teacher observation was only a small part of the process.

· J. also referred to the school as not being “a place for special education. We’re just not able to do that.” It was unclear to me if she truly grasped Maria Montessori’s work as being “special education” in and of itself. She also didn’t give any indication that she remembered that Montessori’s first work was with children who had been identified as having “special needs.”

If I was looking for a special education class for my child, I would be looking elsewhere. In fact, my child qualifies for free early childhood education in a special education setting, which would obviously be an incentive for me to place him in such a setting. However, I demonstrated throughout my visit that I am an educated, thoughtful parent who is well versed in and committed to the Montessori model. I also demonstrated that I want an environment for my child where he can thrive.

Clearly, as a parent, I am concerned about the match between my son and any school. I don’t want him to be in a school where his needs can’t be met, and of course, as someone who values the Montessori philosophy, I am aware of the need to respect the community as a whole as well. I wouldn’t be taking the time to tour Montessori schools if I didn’t believe that my son could be “mainstreamed” into a Montessori school. I am completely confused as to why J. would assume I would want to set up my son for a bad experience like that, after observing me tour the school and ask thoughtful questions.

The messages that were communicated to me verbally (and nonverbally) during this conversation included:

· Children with special needs are not welcome. J. does not want me to apply for my son’s admittance. If I want to push it, I might be able to get admittance for my son, but first I need to prove that he wouldn’t “be a problem.”

· As a child with special needs, my child would be under a level of scrutiny in the admissions process and in the classroom that other children in the school do not experience. (By the way, can you imagine a job interview in which you had to sit there and talk about your own special needs/challenges/etc. for twenty minutes...wouldn't you end up sounding like an impossible person to work with?)

· I am not considered to be among the experts on my child and his needs. Anyone who can write “a report” (of what type, it never was specified) on my child must hold more expertise than I do, and would be better equipped to provide information about whether my child would do well in a Montessori classroom where specific special education services are not provided.

By the way, it is very sad to me that even in the public schools, the Individuals with Disabilities Education Act (IDEA) ensures that parents are viewed as a part of the team of experts involved in a child’s life, but an independent Montessori school does not take this approach. Also, you should know that my child will be receiving special education services from his school district, including speech and occupational therapy, via IDEA, even if he is enrolled in a Montessori School. He is an unlikely candidate for a one-on-one assistant in either setting, so this wouldn’t be a concern or issue in the “match” at this point.

· As a parent, there is a considerable possibility that I would mislead the school into admitting my son even if that wasn’t going to serve his best interests, or the interests of the school.

· If my son were to be admitted, he would be considered a liability to the integrity of the community. Once I mentioned that my child is developmentally delayed, J. stopped listening and started talking. She wasn’t interested in hearing about what I knew about his challenges, let alone his gifts and strengths. She was clearly very focused and concerned about what level of “burden” he might be, and she clearly felt I wasn’t qualified to be a part of that conversation.

I am choosing a school for my child. I am going to be investing money in this school, and I am going to be handing over my precious little one and entrust a school with his care and education. I am having a lot of trouble imagining myself applying for my son’s admission into Summit Montessori School.

For all of my children, even those without special needs, I want them to participate in educational communities where individuals with special needs are seen not in simple terms as a liability, detraction from and burden to the community, but that they are seen as human beings who, like everyone, can participate meaningfully in the life of the community. I would hope that all of Summit Montessori School’s parents would want their children to learn to relate to people of all abilities, to be in an environment where they can practice how to be fully inclusive of people who have both the same and different strengths and challenges from them.

I've come to treat my son's special needs as a normal part of human diversity. In my life’s journey, I’ve learned that every human being has “special needs.” My son's needs are simply among the slightly less common. But some of those same needs are part of what affirmed for me that Montessori would be right for him.

The “no admittance for people like your son” sign has been posted on Summit Montessori’s door. What a loss for not only my son, but for the children in the school who lose out on the opportunity to learn to engage in a diverse and interesting human world.

I do want to send a special thank you to D. and one of the founders of the school (whose name I have forgotten, I am sorry to say), for asking me as I was stepping out of the building, what I thought of the school, and for taking the time to chat with me as I worked through the initial shock and confusion, as well as utter sadness, I had experienced during my conversation with J. The messages D. gave me were empathetic, considerate, and warmly welcoming, and the founder’s messages were cautiously welcoming. I also appreciate the founder offering that I could call either D. or herself if I wanted to arrange for an assessment for my son for entry into the school.
---------------------------------------------------

On a completely different note, I want to say that I am surprised at the reaction I received from the school’s business manager when I asked about staff compensation and financial aid. I told her I understood that asking about staff compensation was unusual for parents, and she agreed and asked me why I was interested. I told her that I want my children to go to a school with “happy, healthy, satisfied teachers” (and I should add “people who are highly qualified and who feel valued for their work”), and she said that made sense to her. I am just surprised more parents don’t ask. I was so glad to hear that your school strives to be very competitive in its salaries and compensation of teachers and staff.

I also asked her about financial assistance for two reasons. First, because Summit Montessori is by far the most expensive Montessori school I have found in the area (double the average cost for the half-day program), and I wanted to know what assistance might be available because we are a lower middle class family. Second, because the school’s current director and my tour guide had mentioned that the school strives to be diverse, I wondered if that included economic diversity. I asked the business manager what percentage of students receive financial aid, and she told me this number is confidential. However, she did give me the percentage of tuition that provides the financial aid budget. I thought you might be interested to know that it is unusual for a school to make confidential information on the approximate number of “scholarships” they award each year.

Tuesday, April 1, 2008

Have they "gone too far?" Um...how could you even ask that?

I am heading to bed, but we are staying at G's parents house tonight and Boston's Fox25 news is on.

As I am heading off, I hear the headliners, including: "Have they finally gone too far? A child is in intensive care after being pushed down the stairs at school by a bully."

When does it take a child ending up in intensive care before a bully has gone too far? This is very sad.
Every child in our country has a right to access education, free from bullying and harrassment.
We, as a nation, have a lot of work left to do in this arena.
(By the way, from what I gather, this child also has some disabilities and was receiving special education services at his school. This certainly hits some hot buttons in my world.)