A resource for teachers, parents and administrators interested in the practical side of the Montessori approach.
Before addressing that question, it’s important to define ‘authentic Montessori’. The Association Montessori Internationale suggest the following as the essential attributes:
‘First of all, the structure of the school is critical.
These structural details support the functioning of a Montessori School. Children follow their own developmental paths and interests, with material instructions provided by the AMI-trained adult. There are very few adult-imposed schedules other than arrival, going home and perhaps lunch. Otherwise, a normal day follows the children’s interests and a general plan created by the trained adult, depending somewhat on the age group.’
AMI USA say something similar:
“The AMI Recognized Montessori Experience
I can’t help but feel that there’s an essential element missing from this list, namely the impact of the method upon the children. It’s a bit like a restaurant getting a 5-star rating based on the hours they’re open, the number of customers they can seat and the menu, with no regard for whether the food actually tastes any good.
“If a school is recognized by AMI, your child will be engaged in the authentic Montessori experience developed by Maria Montessori.”
My best guess, based on the two decades I’ve devoted to Montessori and the dozens of schools I’ve visited and teachers I’ve spoken with, as well as the hundreds of parents I’ve met and children I’ve guided, is because of two reasons:
There’s little to be said about the first point, but I do have some thoughts on the second.
In 2007 I began my AMI 3-6 training, which was run by two AMI Montessori trainers with the support of one Trainer-in-Training, the three of whom had somewhere in the region of 40 years’ experience in the Montessori world. I finished my training in the spring of 2008, and in August of that year I started teaching at the Montessori School of Tokyo. Over the following weeks and months and years I discovered that the role of the adult entailed a huge range of distinct duties and responsibilities, most of which can be grouped into one of four broad categories:
During the training we hadn’t spent a single minute discussing how to prepare the environment, where to place the shelves, whether one shelf might be better than another, how many tables or chairs were required for 25 children and what size they might be, whether all of the tables needed to be separate (as I’ve seen in some schools) or whether they should be put together (as I’ve seen in others), whether it might be useful to have some tables for solo children and others for pairs or groups, or if some should be put facing the wall or in a quiet corner or all of them should be placed in the middle of the room. I also had no clue about what size the mats should be, what material they should be made from or what colour or how many we might need. Over and over again our trainers had told us that the first responsibility of the guide is to prepare the environment, and yet those same guides hadn’t spent a single minute explaining how we might actually do this. And that was before I’d met a single colleague.
When I finished my training, I had a reasonable grasp of the assorted materials I was expected to present in each of the five areas of the curriculum, but the fact that there was a curriculum and that I had to make a plan for how to implement it and record it … well, that was all new. I had also received no guidance on how to communicate with a co-teacher or an assistant or a cleaner, how to create a Lesson Plan, how to write a Progress Report, or any of the dozens of other responsibilities that a Montessori guide has to handle before the children come to school every morning and after they leave every afternoon. Our trainers had also told us nothing about how or why we should liaise with the other teachers in the school, about when and why it’s important to meet with management or how they might be able to guide and assist us, or how to deal with Children’s Portfolios, Field trips, Admissions, Budgeting, Attendance, Professional Development events, Montessori Conferences … the list of admin responsibilities seemed endless and overwhelming. And that was before I’d met a single family.
Without knowledgeable cooperative and supportive parents, a teacher’s job is impossible. I’ve noticed that all children who are thriving have the same thing in common; they have wonderful parents, who invariably ask the same question, year after year: “What can I do to help?” These wonderful families are elusive exceptions, with the majority requiring a great deal of cajoling and educating, regular updating on their child’s progress, sharing photos or brief updates on their development, responding to emails or other messages, accommodating their busy schedules so you can meet them after school, scheduling class observations or Parent-Teacher Conferences or Open Houses or workshops on various aspects of the Montessori Approach. All of this, of course, was a massive shock to my system because -inevitably- our trainers had told us absolutely nothing about any of these responsibilities, had offered us zero guidance or support or advice. Not a word. And that was before I’d met a single child.
On the first day of my training, we were given a handout with the schedule for the next year: dates for submitting Albums, dates when we’d go observe, when we’d do our practice teaching, dates of the holidays and -a lifetime away- the dates of the final exams. And there, right at the bottom of the page, after the dates of the final exams, was the date on which we’d receive a lecture on Classroom Management. Assuming this was a printing error, I raised my hand and pointed out the mistake, but it wasn’t a printing error, it wasn’t a mistake: if you do the AMI training, you can pass your exams and receive your AMI diploma without spending one solitary minute studying or learning about classroom management.
So what did we spend all those hours, those interminable weeks and months studying? How to present materials, pretty much:
“In brief, the teacher’s principle duty in the school may be described as follows: she should explain the use of the material. She is the main connecting link between the material, that is the objects, and the child. This is a simple, modest duty, and yet it is much more delicate than that found in the older schools, where the material simply helps the children to understand the mind of the teacher, who must pass on her own ideas to a child, who must in turn receive them.”
In moments of despair, particularly after observing yet another mismanaged Montessori class, I wonder if all of the problems associated with Montessori can be traced back to this single quote, which all teachers are familiar with (because most AMI trainers endlessly repeat it back to them). The inevitable consequence of the AMI focus (obsession) on presentations is that they keep producing generations of teachers who haven’t the faintest idea how to manage a class of children. Worse, they’ve indoctrinated their graduates in the belief that the essential part of the job is giving presentations, so that’s what Montessori guides do, sitting with one child while their assistant (who has minimal or no training) is left to manage the other 24. No wonder most classes are in disarray.
AMI seem to feel that the best way to learn how to prepare an environment or handle dozens of administrative tasks or interact with parents or manage 25 children is by doing those things, and while there is some value in learning by doing, there is also a lot to be said for preparing the teacher so they’re not completely ignorant the first day they walk into their new class. Unfortunately, most teachers are ignorant, as the AMI training is structured so that their graduates learn to swim by being thrown into the sometimes cold and deep and very dark waters of education. It brings to mind that poem by Stevie Smith:
Nobody heard him, the dead man,
But still he lay moaning:
I was much further out than you thought
And not waving but drowning.
Poor chap, he always loved larking
And now he’s dead
It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way,
They said.
Oh, no no no, it was too cold always
(Still the dead one lay moaning)
I was much too far out all my life
And not waving but drowning.
To return to the claim made by AMI USA:
“If a school is recognized by AMI, your child will be engaged in the authentic Montessori experience developed by Maria Montessori.”
How to define ‘authentic’? There’s no short answer to this question, but based on my years spent working in Montessori schools, visiting Montessori classes, creating Montessori environments, talking with Montessori teachers and observing children’s development both inside and outside Montessori environments, I feel a definition has to include the children, so I’d offer something like this as a starting point:
“An authentic Montessori class is one in which most of the children are engaged with most of the materials most of the time. In such an environment the role of the adult is to help the children achieve their emotional, social, physical, linguistic and academic/intellectual potential, and to help the adults in the environment achieve their potential.”
My first teaching position was at the Montessori School of Tokyo, an authentic Montessori school. MST had three Primary (ages 3-6) and three Elementary (ages 6-9 and 9-12) classrooms, so there were many experienced teachers available to discuss the minutiae of the job, to bounce ideas off, and to answer the countless questions which all teachers have, especially those newly graduated. Pete Juds was Head of School and had 18 years’ experience, and although he was busy running a school in one of the most vibrant cities in the world, his door was always open, and he was always available to meet and offer guidance, advice and encouragement, or join in a St. Patrick’s Day celebration or come to give a presentation on the geography of South Africa. Lekker, bru.
A couple of times a year Pete would observe my class and later that day we’d sit and discuss what he’d seen. He’d often begin with things he’d liked, move on to general comments, and after a while we’d get to the ‘Things I might do differently’ section of the discussion. Sometimes he’d note some of the things the children had done and how I’d responded, and he’d ask questions such as, “Have you considered this angle or that approach?” Sometimes I had and would explain that I didn’t do such and such a thing because I felt it wouldn’t work, or that perhaps I had tried it previously and it hadn’t worked, but more often than not I’d admit that no, I hadn’t considered it, but would try it out in future and see what happened.
The key factor during these discussions was that Pete was invariably guiding me, his suggestions just that: suggestions rather than commands. Many times he said to me, “It’s my school but it’s your class. You’re the one who knows the children, so you’re the person best able to guide them”. This willingness to support and guide his teachers, to give them respect and freedom, to allow them to fail so they would learn from their mistakes: this was brave and inspirational, and served as a model for how to guide the children, one which I’ve continued to follow for almost 20 years.
I learned a lot in Tokyo; about authentic Montessori, about the importance of developing independence, about how mistakes are really opportunities to learn and about a thousand other things. I was fortunate enough to spend my formative years as a teacher in an environment where I felt valued, respected and supported, but many Montessori guides aren’t as fortunate and receive little or no guidance on how to be a Montessori guide.
I’ve observed in more than 75 Montessori schools and in the majority of those schools the classes were in disarray, the children bored or belligerent or disinterested and many of the guides were frustrated, confused and depressed, the adults very obviously in need of guidance as much as the children, not waving but drowning. It’s not my place to offer unsolicited comments, advice or suggestions to teachers so I said nothing at the time, but I hoped there might be some value in creating a website where teachers could find answers to some of their many questions. When I interview new colleagues I ask questions like the following:
And a thousand other questions…
With many of these questions there isn’t necessarily a right and wrong answer -and sometimes the answer that is right today might be wrong tomorrow- so when I ask questions like these -and a hundred others- my intention is to stimulate a discussion in order to gain some insight into my colleagues’ approach to the Montessori Method, to get to know them better, to try and discover why they do this and not that.
In all jobs there are situations that recur, some results that are particularly effective, and certain ways of doing things that are better than others. Having someone on hand who can listen, who can provide a shoulder to cry on, ask questions, suggest solutions, or simply listen when you want to blow off steam at the end of a long day. Or week or month or year.
I feel that this can be the difference between success and failure, between an authentic Montessori environment and a Montesomething class, between a member of staff who plans to quit at the end of the year and one who loves their job, who relishes coming to school, and who inspires and in inspired by the children in their care. Sometimes you just need someone to take your hand, so you don’t get lost. Sometimes you just need a guide.
When a teacher prepares a Montessori environment, they create the conditions in which children can succeed.
The management team in a Montessori school create the conditions in which teachers can succeed.
An authentic Montessori class is one in which the children are guided towards independence.
An authentic Montessori school is one in which the adults are guided towards independence.
One of the key roles of a Montessori guide is to help, guide and nurture the development of the children whom they supervise, to give presentations, but then to step back and allow the children the time, space and opportunity to work in a way best suited to their individual needs, all the while gauging the effectiveness of their interaction.
One of the key roles of an Academic Director is to help, guide and nurture the development of the adults whom they supervise, to give advice but then to step back and allow the adults the time, space and opportunity to work in a way best suited to their individual needs, all the while gauging the effectiveness of their interaction.
“The things we have to learn before we do them, we learn by doing them.” – Aristotle, writing more than 2400 years ago.
I’ve spent almost 20 years in the Montessori world and I’ve learnt to be a Montessori guide by being a Montessori guide. This website contains some of the solutions that I’ve come up with to the endless questions that we teachers encounter every day, every week, and every month of every year, year after year. I don’t claim that my answers are the only ones and I don’t suggest that they will work in every class and with every child, only that some of them worked for me some of the time, and that perhaps some of them might work for you, and include the following suggestions:
“The work of the teacher is to guide the children to normalisation, to concentration. […] The teacher has two tasks: to lead the children to concentration and to help them in their development afterwards. The fundamental help in development, especially with little children of three years of age, is not to interfere. Interference stops activity and stops concentration. But do not apply the rule of non-interference when the children are still the prey of all their different naughtinesses.”
Being a Montessori Guide is the most fascinating, stimulating, amazing job in the world, but it can also be infuriating, depressing and challenging, and only by trial and error, learning by doing, can you start to get a handle on it. I hope this website can help a little with that process. Slàinte!
I stopped going to Montessori Conferences after the first dozen or so, because I didn’t find them practical and I didn’t find them very useful. I never learned a single thing at a Montessori conference that helped me to become a better teacher, because they pretty much exclusively deal in abstract waffling. But I guess I’m in the minority, and some people seem to find these things interesting. Decide for yourself, with this sampling of some of the delights in store in 2026:
If that kind of thing floats your boat: enjoy. I guess.
Placeholder: to be replaced with the author’s photograph.