"Can I see your shelves?" What an odd question. And, yet, if you spend much time with Montessori teachers, you'll almost inevitably hear them asking each other about how they prepare their shelves. You'll see them kneeling down in front of each other's shelves to see which materials are color coded or to open box lids to see what's inside. A visiting Montessori teacher comes to observe your classroom? You'll enjoy a brief moment of eye contact before they start glancing aroun

"Can I see your shelves?" What an odd question. And, yet, if you spend much time with Montessori teachers, you'll almost inevitably hear them asking each other about how they prepare their shelves. You'll see them kneeling down in front of each other's shelves to see which materials are color coded or to open box lids to see what's inside. A visiting Montessori teacher comes to observe your classroom? You'll enjoy a brief moment of eye contact before they start glancing aroun

"Can I see your shelves?" What an odd question. And, yet, if you spend much time with Montessori teachers, you'll almost inevitably hear them asking each other about how they prepare their shelves. You'll see them kneeling down in front of each other's shelves to see which materials are color coded or to open box lids to see what's inside. A visiting Montessori teacher comes to observe your classroom? You'll enjoy a brief moment of eye contact before they start glancing aroun

If you were to draw your conclusions about children's development based on the products you see marketed to them, you might presume that children are loud, brash, cacophonous creatures who prefer colors that clash, wide-eyed characters with squeaky high voices and a thick layer of glitter coating their world. Don't get me wrong. I love glitter. But children are a bit more complicated than the bouncy, sparkly, primary-color driven ballpits that mass marketers presume them to b

"Can I see your shelves?" What an odd question. And, yet, if you spend much time with Montessori teachers, you'll almost inevitably hear them asking each other about how they prepare their shelves. You'll see them kneeling down in front of each other's shelves to see which materials are color coded or to open box lids to see what's inside. A visiting Montessori teacher comes to observe your classroom? You'll enjoy a brief moment of eye contact before they start glancing aroun

environment, from Merriam-Webster: 1: the complex of physical, chemical, and biotic factors (as climate, soil, and living things) that act upon an organism or an ecological community and ultimately determine its form and survival 2: the aggregate of social and cultural conditions that influence the life of an individual or community Why do Montessori teachers have to make everything so complicated? Why can't we just call it a classroom? Simply, because it's much more than a c

Perhaps the most distinct difference between traditional early childhood programs and Montessori classrooms is the absence of fantasy characters in the Montessori prepared environment. Mickey Mouse doesn't live here. Power Rangers and Powderpuff Girls are left at the door. Montessori's discouragement of fantasy characters is part of the carefully prepared classroom environment, and the need to be ever mindful of the important learning that happens throughout young children's