I caught him in action again today! The little boy who can't wait for break to join our Grounds Man to do "real" work. There he was watching, learning, and then he quietly moved in and started picking up rubble, tossing it into the wheelbarrow as he had seen Tata Mlungisi do. Helping. The highlight was being allowed to push the heavy barrow; to be really useful. On Monday they were removing plants, but it was even more special as he had an accomplice, all of four years old, just as engrossed. At one poignant moment, the little one stood back to admire their work, casually draping his arm around Mlungisi's neck as he hunched over the ground. I ran to get my camera, but the batteries were dead.
Little people naturally imitate, they learn by example, it is the way they have been programmed to learn. They want to be big and they want to be useful, have value. And if being a man means to garden and remove rubble, then that is what they want to do. No external pressure, no curriculum and no tests required to learn these skills. In fact all that stuff just gets in the way. If their effort is acknowledged and encouraged, they beam because they feel needed, important, special, which further fuels the imitation, the work, the learning. The affirmation, and the shared work builds kinship, relationship.
I remember dosing- and even slaughtering sheep with my dad, not because I loved it, but because I enjoyed being with him. I was not expected to do it, I chose to do it.
John Holt picked up on some of this. Maria Montessori did too. Her schools had little irons and ironing boards (that really worked!). Children played "work" and the work wasn't trivial or an imitation of the real thing. Tools were simply scaled down for ease of use, they were not play-play or useless, because when tasks have no real purpose they are not worth doing, children know that.
Not only little ones are drawn to imitation. I remember telling my Grade 5 class last year that they could draw or do anything that was quiet and not distracting while I read aloud to them. They excitedly asked if they could have the large hard cover books that I had placed on our book shelf for enrichment. I was puzzled and explained that they couldn't be paging through or reading other books as they would not follow my reading. "No, no!" they exclaimed "We'll listen. Promise." I sceptically allowed them to each get a book. They gleefully returned to their desks and promptly turned their books sideways, flipping the hard covers open, cocking their heads to the side (clamping make-believe cell phones to their ears) and started "typing" the words I read on their "laptops". They were being imitators of the adults in their lives.
So I ask myself, what are we modelling? Are they things we want our children to imitate? Are we, are they so distracted by screens that life is passing us by? Are we teaching skills? Do we work in our homes, in our gardens, on our cars or are our domestic servants, our gardeners and our mechanics getting the Montessori education that was destined for our children?
And I ask, are these things that we're wanting our children to do, things worth doing? Really? Well, then we should be out there doing them too, not so?
Looking at it from the other angle: What are the things we're battling to get our children to do? Are we modelling them? Do they have the opportunity to just watch us doing these things and the freedom to join in (or not) if they choose without being rebuffed (or nagged)?
And I ask, how often do we expect our children to work alone while the rest of the team is distracted? Maybe that's the reason rooms aren't being tidied and reading isn't being done. I enjoy cooking, but I don't enjoy doing it alone therefore we not only have a table & chairs in the kitchen but a couch too! Fact is, no one likes working alone, there's something about community, togetherness that makes it worth doing, fun.
And I ask, what is our reaction when they scrape together the courage to join us in our task? Or when they loudly and enthusiastically start helping? Do we discourage them by being sullen, critical, by telling them that they are meddling, in the way, wasting our time? Or do we use it as a teaching opportunity to patiently show them how it should be done? Do we encourage, praise? And most importantly, do we just enjoy the togetherness, laughing and chatting about silly things that make it a memorable experience?
Just asking.
