Monday, June 24, 2013

Montessori: What's the Story?


Ever wish you knew more about Maria Montessori? Well friends, this is your lucky day, for just below this intro paragraph is my summary on the history of Maria Montessori in the form of an essay turned in a few weeks ago.  This was my first graded assignment since December 2011 and I was disappointed to receive the grade of 92.  I thought I deserved a 94. I'm over it now though. No, seriously. I am. Really...

Maria Montessori was born in Italy in 1870. As a small child, her family moved to Rome in hopes of providing her with a better education than was available in the rural area they called home. When it came time for her to choose a career path, Montessori faced challenges related to the gender inequality of the times. Her father was a precise and conservative man who strongly encouraged her to pursue of the only acceptable career for a woman at the time; that of a teacher. Though her mother was a little more open to transformative ideas, she succumbed to her husband’s conviction and urged Maria to study education.

Despite the wishes of her parents, Maria set out to study mathematics and engineering instead of teaching. Before long she abandoned these two areas of study in favor of medical school. During her time in medical school, Maria again experienced the impact of gender inequality when she was forced to return to the lab after hours and alone to partake in the dissection activities her male classmates performed together during the day. Through her strong will and determination, Montessori stood strong in the face of adversity, and finished her studies at the University of Rome Medical School in 1896 as the first woman graduate.

After graduation, Dr. Montessori took on a job at the University of Rome’s Psychiatric Clinic, where she visited mentally deficient children and became inspired to study special education. During her time at the clinic, she began to develop a theory in which mental deficiency was not really a medical problem, but rather a pedagogical one. In other words, “problems existed not in the children, but in the adults, in their approaches and in the environment they provided” (Mooney 22). Touched by her experiences at the clinic, Maria began to study the prior educational works of Jean Itard and Edoaurd Seguin. The works of Itard and Sequin became the foundation upon which Montessori built the fundamentals of her method. Upon completion of her studies, Montessori returned to Italy and began lecturing at the request of the Italian Minister of Education. The lectures she delivered on “the education of feeble minded children,” eventually lead to the establishment of a State Orthophrenic School, where Montessori would serve as the directress for several years. During her time at the helm of the Orthophrenic School, Montessori’s passion for education intensified and she returned, once more, to university. Fueled by the potential impact of her remedial pedagogical methods on normal children, she began to study philosophy, psychology, and anthropology. From then on Montessori was committed to education as her life’s work.

The opportunity for Montessori to test the transferability of her method and materials to “normal” children arrived in 1907 when she was tasked with opening the first Casa de Bambini, or “Children’s House. The Children’s House was a minimally designed day care with the sole purpose of keeping poor children from deviant and destructive behavior while their parents were out to work. The absence of an interested governing body allowed Montessori the freedom to do as she pleased. And so, in her time at the Children’s House she set out to “compare the reactions of normal children to her special equipment with those of her mental defectives, and in particular to see if the reactions of younger children of normal intelligence were similar to those of the chronologically older but retarded children” (Polk Lillard, 3). What she discovered was remarkable. The children, who came to the house as unrefined, uncoordinated little humans developed, through the use of her materials, transformative levels of focus and concentration. This concentration brought order to their young souls and enabled them to perform at seemingly unrealistic levels. Montessori herself was amazed. She said, “It took time for me to convince myself that this was not an illusion. After each new experience proving such a truth I said to myself, ‘I won’t believe it yet, I’ll believe the next time.’.”(Polk Lillard, 5).

Naturally, the astonishing results coming from within Montessori’s school created a rapidly expanding interest in her method. In order to meet the growing interest in her method of education, Montessori began to travel the world giving lectures, writing books, and establishing schools and training centers. Montessori came to America to speak in 1912 and again in 1915, however, excitement for her method was shortly stifled by mounting criticism.

Despite tepid success in America, the expansion of Montessori schools throughout Europe went very well until the late 1920s when rising Nazi and Fascist regimes forced their closings. In 1934 Montessori fled the growing Fascist pressures of Italy and went to live in Spain, the Netherlands, and India. It is important to note that while the closing of schools was a destructive blow to the Montessori movement, it was not in vain, for as the war ended, interest in the Montessori Method was vigorously rekindled. Having seen the evil and destruction that arose from the blind following of government, people were drawn to alternative educational approaches that encouraged independence.

In addition to the worldly challenges of gender inequality and the rise of Fascism, Montessori was also impacted by a significant personal challenge through the birth of her son Mario, out of wedlock. In order to avoid the stigma that comes with raising a bastard child, Maria sent Mario away to live with family friends. He would return to her as a teenager and eventually become a partner in her efforts to expand the Montessori Method throughout the world. One can only imagine the depth and darkness of her personal struggle. The fact that she was able to move on so successfully after such an impactful life event is another testament to her strong will and tenacity. It is interesting here to also consider the relationship between Maria’s inability to care for her own child and the emphasis of her method on creating independence within a child. This is not to suggest that Montessori deliberately set out to create the method as overcompensation for her absence in the life of her son, but perhaps she took comfort in knowing that she helped so many other children learn to take care of themselves in the potential absence of their own parents.

Maria Montessori died in The Netherlands in 1952. Though her physical being has left this earth, her spirit and influence live on as her method continues to grow each year with the establishment of new Montessori schools across the world. In conclusion, Maria Montessori lived a full and impactful life that can serve as an inspiration to all of us. She was intrinsically motivated to achieve great things despite significant social and personal conflicts, and her tenacious example reminds us that we need not become victims of our time. In addition, the fluid manner in which Montessori accomplished so much is evidence that we need not waste our time worrying about the straightness of our path in life. By changing focus and studying many areas throughout her lifetime Montessori was able to develop an interdisciplinary approach to education with a skill set far greater than that which would come from the study of education alone. Her life and work are a testament to the fact that sometimes the most fruitful destinations are reached through the windiest roads.
 Bibliography

Montessori, Maria – The Absorbent Mind – New York: Holt Paperbacks, 1995
Montessori, Maria – The Montessori Method – Mineola: Dover Publications, Inc., 2002
Montessori, Maria – The Secret of Childhood – New York: Random House, 1966
Montessori, Maria – The Discovery of the Child – New York: Random House, 1967
Garhart Moody, Carol – Theories of Childhood – St. Paul: Readleaf Press, 2000
Polk Lillard, Paula – Montessori a Modern Approach –New York: Schocken Books, 1972
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Thursday, May 2, 2013

Picture Perfect

A few weeks ago we had some family pictures taken for the first time.  No big deal, right? Well, if you have a simple, normal brain then yes, that would be correct - no big deal.  If you have an 'at times overly analytical' and 'periodically neurotic' brain like my own, then the statement is wrong.  It is a big deal. And here's why...

Pictures are a magical place where many things happen. Pictures store our memories and show us things that our eyes alone cannot see. Most of the time, the unseen sights revealed in pictures are beautiful things, but I couldn't help but wonder: what if that's not the case this time? What if our family photos show me something I don't want to see?  What would that 'something' even look like? An absence of love perhaps? Maybe a forced smile? Who knows.  I, for one, did not know and that's the first reason why I was apprehensive to have our family pictures taken. The second reason I was hesitant is because I think that sometimes people hide in pictures. They put on the same matching outfits and try their very hardest to look normal.  Big smiles, loving embraces, everyone is happy.  Everyone is really, really happy....except they're not, because dad's cheating on mom as she drowns herself in denial and red wine. Meanwhile, junior's been a bulimic cutter since age 13. But don't worry, we're all okay.  As long as we all look picture perfect wearing white Polo shirts in a glossy 8 x10 sitting in a Pottery Barn frame on our mantle, we are all doing just fine. The whiter the shirts, the darker the souls. And so, I was afraid to commit the happiness of our family to 'official family photos' because, in a tiny pocket of insanity somewhere in my brain, I believed that if we did, we would open ourselves up to the possibility of it all falling apart.

I'm not a complete lunatic, so I was able to push all of that garbage aside and coordinate a family photo shoot with our good friend Andy DeLisle. We did the shoot on the Old Main lawn on campus. All of the images and rights belong to him. 

Without further ado, here's the first image I'd like to share with you...


 See the church in the background? At the time we arranged the shoot, we didn't realize th background of the location would include this church. This church was built in 1903 and it's the church that Brendan and I were married in. Neat-o, huh?!

Here's the next one, which I think is adorable...



...except for the fact that it looks like I'm two knuckles deep in Kristen's butt.  I've sent an email to the folks at Adobe suggesting they consider adding a "remove hand from ass" button on the next version of Photoshop. Still waiting to hear back on that...

One thing I've learned about family photos; kids have waayyy more fun getting their pictures taken than adults do...


The reason is because they are pure...
 

honest...

 

 and free.



For adults, on the other hand, getting pictures taken can be awkward and uncomfortable...



When our personal space is infringed upon, we feel the need to defend ourselves...



But when we bring it back together, and we always do, life is good...


p.s. I always wished I would look this capable in my 30s.  Sometimes I even feel this way!

Here's another family shot I enjoy...


And...one more on the bridge on the campus of the university where this little 'dream' all began...


Well, there you have it.  We survived our first family photo shoot. Bring on the beginning of the end...or maybe not!

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Monday, March 25, 2013

The Key to Happiness

I think I have found the key to happiness. In a departure from my traditional style, I will save you the wordy build up and get right down to it. The key to happiness lies in our ability to realize one simple fact. The fact is this...

Every minute we spend is an investment.

Unless today is the day of our death, we are all given the same 24 hours to invest with however we choose. When we invest poorly we feel like shit. When we invest well, we feel happy.  This is not to say, however, that poor investments should be avoided at all costs. After all, even the poorest investments can still pay the long term dividend of a lesson learned. But rest assured, before you realize what the lesson was, you'll probably feel like shit.

The secondary benefit of treating every minute like an investment is the meaning it creates in the most mundane, unglamorous aspects of our lives. 'Making lunch' for the kids, becomes an 'investment in their nutrition.' Lounging on the couch doing nothing is really an 'investment in rejuvenation.'  While I admit that these examples are borderline ridiculous, I believe there is great benefit in looking at all aspects of life in this way. If we actively take a look at how we invest our time, maybe our actions will become collectively more positive. For example, if you called spreading office gossip 'investing in a toxic workplace,'  would that make you want to do it less? I hope so.

In sticking with my theme of un-wordiness (not a word) I will spare the fancy wrap around conclusion and leave you instead with two questions:

1. Do you feel as good as you want to feel?
2. What are you investing in?

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Friday, March 15, 2013

The Complexity of Love

Love. Where do I begin?  I'm kinda into word usage and definitions, so let's start there.  Dictionary.com defines love as:

1. n. A profoundly tender, passionate affection for another person.
2. n. A feeling of warm personal attachment or deep affection, as for a parent, child or friend.
3. n. Sexual passion or desire
4. n. A person toward whom love is felt; beloved person
5. v. To have love or affection for

This five point definition simply covers all of the bases in regards to love, however, love in and of itself is not always simple. The reason for this is that love exists in a very complex entity known as the human mind. Not the human brain, but the human mind.  I'm sure there are great debates out there on the topic of brain vs mind, but the way I see it, the brain is a physical, tangible organ that controls the function of the body.  The mind, on the other hand, is an abstract collection of ideas, thoughts, feelings, and emotions that adds depth to function and meaning to life. Where it becomes tricky is that Love (and all of it's depth) may exist in the mind, but it only resides there because it is tangentially permitted to do so by the function of the brain. I feel like I'm slipping off track here, so let's bring it back around with some logic: Matters of the mind are complex. Love is a matter of the mind. Therefore, love is complex. 

So, what are we to do with all of this complex Love?  Well, we can choose to do many things with love. We can acknowledge love, we can ignore love, we can question love, we can accept love, we can analyze love, deny love, embrace love, and the list goes on and on. Depending on the circumstances, I'm sure that each of us does all of these things with Love at some point in our lives. It just depends on for whom we have the love or from whom we receive the love. Lately I've been in a mood to think about Love. Not a singular specific love in my life, but rather the entire collection of my Love. One of my favorite thinking tools is the use of metaphor. So, without further a do, here is my grand metaphor for love: Love is a dwelling. It is mansion with many rooms. Each person we love has a room within our mansion of Love, and every room is different.  Some of the rooms are lighted and some of them are dark.  Some of the rooms are entered daily, yet others may go unvisited for months at a time. Some of the rooms are vacant; awaiting the arrival of a future love, while others are sealed off permanently for a lost love that will never return. Whatever the scope or circumstances of a love, all love has a place within our mansion of Love, or compound of Love, or cottage of Love, or whatever

After we allow ourselves to establish a metaphorical mansion of Love, the next step is to begin thinking about the people we love and figuring out what each of their rooms looks like and feels like. Are they stuffy? Are they airy? Are they vibrant? Are they drab? Are they cold? How are they lit? Maybe by a candle? Or perhaps a grand chandelier? What about the doors? Are they open or closed? Or maybe there's just a curtain at the entry way? Are there windows in these rooms? The scope of this task is enormous and its duration is infinite, for love is fluid and ever changing. Some times love will seem easy to describe and other times it will seem impossible. Going forward as I continue to seek a greater understanding of my Love, I am sure I will feel overwhelmed, at times, by its complexity. It is at these times that I will return once more to the origin of my metaphor...

Love is a dwelling; a place of residence; a home. Love is a shelter.  Live in it.

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Sunday, February 10, 2013

The Eve of Tomorrow


Tomorrow, for the first time in 8 years, I will start a new job.  I am starting a new job because I quit my old job. I quit my old job because I read a book. I read the book because I made a friend. I made a friend because the universe wanted me to. If ever an award was to be given out for the Best Use of Oversimplification, those last few sentences would surely win me the grand prize. Beyond and between those sentences lies the depth that you would hope exists when a reasonable and responsible adult makes a life changing decision.. Contemplation, conversation, emotion, it's all in there.

The book is called The Alchemist, and I highly recommend it to everyone. The basic idea of the book is that we each have something that we're supposed to do in life and this is our 'personal legend.'  When you realize your personal legend and actively want it, the universe will conspire to help you achieve it. Along the way you will be tested, but ultimately, if you stay the course, these tests and potential setbacks will become rewards in themselves because they are part of the journey to fulfill your personal legend. In theory we all know our personal legend when we are young, but as we go through life, we get distracted, re-directed or sometimes, we even altogether forget it entirely. No matter how or why we lose sight of it, the personal legend is still there. Always.

My personal legend manifested around age 8 when I realized that I wanted to be a teacher.  Although I was fortunate enough to have the means and opportunity to pursue my personal legend throughout the course of my life, for various reasons at various times, I did not.  On college graduation day, I vividly remember sitting in my seat and thinking,  "This isn't my path. This isn't what I'm supposed to be doing." At that time I took comfort in knowing that someday when the time was right and I was ready to sacrifice what was necessary, I would return once more to my path; my personal legend.

Then came marriage....and a mortgage...and a band...and a baby....and a layoff.....and a new job...and another baby...and all kinds of other things that can  fill up the years in a life. Some good things, some not so good things,  but all of them served the same secondary function of distracting me from my personal legend. Despite the distraction, I appreciate every one of these things and I embrace the identity that they have collectively created for me. I can say this with great comfort now, because I am back on the path of pursuing my personal legend. Because I made a friend who gave me a book.

Here comes the disclaimer... I can't promise that reading The Alchemist will impact you in the same way it impacted me. Before we crack the cover, we each come to the book with our own life story, our own level of faith, and our perception of universal energy.  The combination of these three elements will make reading the book a different experience for each of us. And that's okay. For me, reading The Alchemist was an opportunity to reflect on my life and re-connect with something bigger than myself. Even more important than the book though, is the incredible support I have received from my family and friends as I head down this path. If The Alchemist gave me the courage to stick my toe in the pool of positive change, than the people closest to me made it possible to jump in.

Looking forward to tomorrow...

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Tuesday, January 1, 2013

2012 Favorite Pics

I'd really like to get better at using my camera in 2013.  I was given a great book as a Christmas present 2 years ago and several of my friends are knowledgeable regarding photography, so the resources are there. Hopefully I choose to make the time for it.

With that said, here are a few of my favorite pictures that I took in 2012.

 A lonely tree in the desert around the corner from our house


A Mountain at Arizona State University in Tempe, AZ



 Kristen plays with chocolate coins on our backyard


Ferris wheel in Casa Grande, AZ 


Grandpap at the carnival


A handful of enjoyment at the Strong Beer Festival in Phoenix, AZ


 Stranger in line with some good advice


The California Zephyr at the Amtrak station in Maricopa, AZ


The girls and a cousin in our backyard over spring break


Big sister got to the little sister's birthday present first


GTO at the Imperial Palace Auto Collection in Las Vegas, NV


The first cash register ever invented....but not really.


The Venetian in Las Vegas, NV


Waiting for a wedding at Rustler's Rooste in Phoenix, AZ


Muncle knows how to party (September 2012)


Lego project on Christmas Day with Popop

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Wednesday, November 7, 2012

RWW: An Lesson in Patience

Now that school is back in session, Red Wine Wednesdays are technically over. That is of course, until this week.  This week, spontaneous mid-week wine time crept its way into my Wednesday evening. Just like that the word "over" is replaced by the word "irregular," and the sentence becomes, "Now that school is back in session, Red Wine Wednesdays are technically irregular. The circumstances leading up to the popping of a mid week cork are common, and experienced by many of the moms (and sometimes dads) out there 'living the dream" like me on a daily basis.  We are always on the go. Constantly moving; making lunches, loading up the van, taking the kids to school, going to work, picking up the kids, squeezing tushies into tights, breaking up fights, helping with homework, cooking dinner, fixing booboos, cleaning up messes, reading bedtime stories, and the list goes on and on. Just to be clear, I'm not looking for any sympathy here. I embrace all of these things (and many more) as part of the crazy ride called 'parenthood.' My point is just that once in a while, for me, it's nice to have a glass of grown up grape juice to unwind. This week I got what I asked for and then some.

Red Wine Wednesday #7: DeLille Cellars D2

I received this wine as a gift from a friend a while ago.  The wine, just like the friend, is from the state of Washington. D2 is the classiest wine to grace the entries of this blog and the most complex wine I have ever tasted. The complexity of this wine begins upon first sip, as the flavors are bold and abundant. Citrus, berry, and cinnamon are the most prominent for me, but I'm certain there are others in there too. As I began to swallow the strangest thing happened...I couldn't. The wine refused to leave my mouth.  I literally had to wait and take a breath before I could finish the swallow. Second sip...same deal. I paused for a moment, took a deep cleansing breath and thought deeply about the metaphor that just landed in my mouth.  Life is glass of classy wine.  Despite the speed with which we'd like to proceed in living life or drinking wine, in order to really enjoy the complexity in each experience, we must be patient. In the words of the great Roger Clyne, "Here's to life!"

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