I can scarcely believe that today marks the beginning of our last two weeks of school.  Honestly, I think I’m in denial.  I can’t stand to think of the year coming to an end, and yet I can hardly wait to shift gears.  I imagine the children are feeling their own version of these opposing forces.  

Tomorrow, we have our last two Great Brain presentations, and then the Great Brain Fair in the afternoon.  We are now at the final stages, the culmination of weeks and months of student work.  The Great Brain Project is incredibly individualized, from the topic each child chooses to the method of presenting to the class.  And what has really impressed me this year is the ability of the community to adapt to each individual’s presentation.

We have had sixth graders sharing what they’ve learned about pi, or book publishing, or the history of mathematics.  But we’ve also had our younger students presenting on dog breeds, or pets, or rocks.  The range and depth of the material has varied significantly, as has the comfort level of the presenters.

A couple of weeks ago a younger student, who during her first month with us barely spoke, stood up in front of the class and was able to speak a bit about her topic.  During the presentation, I worried about how the class would react. Would they ask probing, difficult questions that would be beyond this person’s ability to answer?  Would she be able to handle the Q&A portion of the presentation?  I shouldn’t have worried.  When she asked for questions, her classmates inquired about aspects of her topic that made her feel at ease.  They didn’t demand more information or try to point out discrepancies.  Rather, they kindly steered the questions to more personal interests and connections.

Today we had a similar situation.  Another student (my daughter, actually), has been terrified of presenting in front of the class.  This afternoon she set up her materials, was all set to begin, and then hid behind her display board.  Hiding there, she began to cry.  As the class waited patiently, another teacher went to help her.  Another student stood up to offer assistance, too.  After 10 minutes, she finally mustered up the courage to stand in front of the class with a friend and shakily work her way through a presentation.  During the Q&A, not only did the class ask about her topic, but they also offered words of encouragement and support.  They showed they cared about her as a person.  

When people visit our school or inquire about Montessori, how can we begin to capture the importance of this kind of learning?  My hope is that our students carry this kind of compassion and thoughtfulness out into the world.  They are sensitive souls, these children.  They understand their impact.  They think about others.  They care.