Oh blimey, looking down the barrel of another class tomorrow morning and already I can feel a big, huge, 'but do I HAVE to?' welling up in my chest. I started teaching at the boys' Montessori nursery after being asked last year. It seemed like a good idea at the time, even though I knew - from bitter experience over the years - that I absolutely LOATHE teaching. I agreed because it meant that I could contribute pretty much the full cost of the boys' fees to the household income and because I thought it would be nice to get to know the children that my boys are spending their mornings and lunchtimes with.
So, it started off well, with hope and optimism. It has since developed into a grim battle for the most part, with me spending most of my time trying and, on a depressingly regular basis, failing, to control the little buggers. I have two groups of around eight children, aged from 2 - 5 years old. This may not seem much if you don't have experience of small children, but in fact, the huge develpoment that goes on in these years is remarkable. A two year old will barely be speaking their own language, while a five year old is generally writing their own name and takes on a teenager-level of knowledge in comparison. What will hold the attention of the older ones just won't cut it. Mind you, if it lasts more than 5 seconds with the little ones, you've lost their attention.
One of the central tennets of the Montessori method is the prohibition on shouting at the pupils. Believe me, I've tried but I just don't seem how this is possible. Is this the same in the UK? I have nothing to compare it to but these children are just totally undisciplined. They really couldn't care less if I sit and say nothing and just watch them, calmly, hoping that this will make them realise that I have stopped talking and therefore so should they. HA. In fact this seems to be a signal to start having chats with their next door neighbour, play with each other's hair or throw themselves on the floor and pretend to be a wild animal. I've seen it performed by the head-teacher/ owner, and it seems to work a treat for her. Well, it worked really well on the parents at the last parent's evening. So how exactly do I control the kids without shouting? They can't hear me when I am politely asking them to listen rather than chat because they are chatting too loudly. Eventually, I shout. Loudly. Not too often because then of course, it doesn't mean anything, it's just the normal level of discourse. But when I need to, sod Signora Montessori, I bellow that now is the time to be quiet, close mouths and open ears. Seriously, I am repeating the old chestnuts from my own schooling.
Of course, there are some children who you can really tell are getting something great out of the lessons. One girl regularly greets me with 'good morning', always in the right context and with a beaming smile on her face. When they remember something that I know we did a long time ago, those moments are lovely. One particular pupil, one of the oldest, we know personally out of school as we also know his parents. He's a typical spoilt rotten only-child, totally out of control and while he's five years old, he's a sweetie, though the handful he is now needs to be steered in the right direction to avoid any problems in the future. But he's bright as a button. If something catches his attention, and really most new things do catch his attention, he will pick it up so quickly while concentrating and seeming to really enjoy it. If only I could find more of these precious lessons, we would be laughing. And of course, whipping ahead to keep him and others like him interested would invariably mean leaving the younger and slower ones behind.
The interesting thing is that the classes are mostly girls. The school is mostly girls. I have done my bit for the male population but it seems that most of the other mothers were hogging the females. They are just as difficult to occupy but mostly they are a bright bunch. The few boys there are a real range of oddballs though, I have no idea why. One of them is incapable of looking me in the eye most of the time, prefering to look down slightly to the side of my foot, while repeating, loudly and repetitively, 'this isn't fun AT ALL,' to the extent that it becomes a little chant. Which, if I am not careful, catches on quickly with the rest of the class. Another one just sits there with a great beatific smile on his face, fixing my face with his eyes. And does precisely NOTHING. He doesn't speak, rarely joins in and cannot be coaxed to take part in anything. He just grins. I say that, although finally we are getting somewhere and he will let his hand be taken in the 'greeting' beginning of the lesson so progress is being made. After a year... Then there is the four year old who can't speak his own language properly because of shameful over-use of a dummy, who talks only of his grandfather and appears to believe that he is the only child who exists in the class. So just chatters all the way through to me, having a one sided conversation that never ever ever ends. God help me.
So maybe the problem I have is that there aren't enough of the bright, interested ones and far too many of the disruptive, uninterested ones. Sounds like a familiar lament of an old friend of mine who teaches secondary kids in the UK. The trick is in enjoying teaching and not just enjoying getting enthusiastic responses. Ah, now I see why I hate teaching so much...
