by I come from a HUGE extended family. Growing up, my Mom, Brother Kevin, and I lived with my grandparents. There were thirteen of us in a house with one bathroom. On Sundays, all of my aunts and uncles who didn’t live at the house would come over with their kids, too. The place was full to bursting. There was never an empty room. I loved it.
There was an end table in the living room with a base that opened. The table held crayons and paper, a few puzzles, board games, and some play food. We’d sit with the adults and listen and sometimes participate in their conversation, and if we got bored, we’d go get a toy, put it on the floor or on the coffee table, and play– not with the adults, but near them. If we got too loud, and they needed to ask us to quiet down, we’d either lower our voices, or we’d go outside and play on the front porch.
When we wanted a snack, the bottom cabinet closest to the fridge was free game, as was anything in the bottom half of the refrigerator (I was a huge fan of pickles, and the jar was right at the bottom of the door). There were cups and bowls in the bottom cabinet to the left of the sink, and we always used those to eat–unless it was dinner, in which case, we ate off of my great-grandmother’s china. All of us did. Even the children. It was a rule–the dishes were there to be used. We understood that they were special, and that part of our responsibility as members of the family was to treat them carefully; it didn’t matter if we were children or adults. To this very day, I love that china. I handle it more gingerly than any other dishes, even my own.
The most special thing about growing up at my grandma’s house was that there was always room for us. No one tried to push us out of the way or pretend we weren’t a part of the community. We were free to share space and responsible for maintaining it, as well. We could go all day without talking to adults if we chose, but conversely, the living spaces in our home were available to all of us. In this way, we spent many of our days engaged in separate but parallel activities; my grandmother and great aunts playing Canasta or Bridge at the kitchen table, and my cousins and I playing Memory, Go Fish or War on the coffee table nearby.
Maria Montessori said: “Suppose we should find ourselves among a race of giants, with legs immensely long and bodies enormously large in comparison with ours, and also with powers of rapid movement infinitely greater than ours, people extraordinarily agile and intelligent compared with ourselves. We should want to go into their houses… the steps would each be as high as our knees; we should want to sit down, but the seats would be almost as high as our shoulders.
If we knew that these giants had been expecting us, we should be obliged to say: they have made no preparations for receiving us, or for making our lives among them more agreeable.”
Do you remember when you were expecting your first child? Perhaps you put together an environment in which you could easily take care of the baby conveniently; a nursery with a high changing table.
A dresser. A crib. Because the baby is incapable of doing anything for themselves, often times, we prepare their space with ourselves in mind. We hang paintings so that we can see them. We put things in places convenient for us to reach; we design spaces with our advantage in mind.
We so often work to create a division of living space: theirs and ours. We use bedrooms and playrooms and make that the children’s space, and keep other spaces for ourselves. It is valuable to have your own space, certainly–but part of including Montessori in the home is not just preparing the child’s bedroom or play space for their own independence; it is helping them to be independent and function in your home at large. Make dishes accessible so that they can help set the table. Have a stool in the kitchen so they can help prepare food or wash dishes. Have a small table for children to dine at, or, have a dining room chair that allows them to sit at your level but get up and down comfortably. I had one like this when I was a child.
Look around your home. Are there photographs and art pieces hung where your child might be able to admire them? Is there a place that they can sit in the living room and read when you are reading? Your family might have a bookshelf; does your child have any books there? Just as adults wish to be represented in the style of their home, children do, too.
Serve the child’s basic instinct to fulfill their own needs by making space for them in your home and your community. When a child sees that your family trusts them and believes they are capable of helping with dinner, or loading the dishwasher, or setting the table, the effect is much more profound than any praise you could offer. Without it even being spoken, the child knows: I am valued in my family, and I am able to contribute.
Miss Kari… I love your story. My family also lived with my grandparents until I was 6 or 7 years old… also surrounded by many relatives who visited on Sunday. We are blessed… Best memories of my life. thanks again for telling your story ♡
A wonderful read, thank you. Reading this has reminded me why are home works the way it does. 🙂 My sisters and I grew up with structure we understood, we were free to play wherever was safe, and were very comfortable conversing with adults. We were not included in contributing to the house at least not in terms of whereabouts of toys (these were to stay in the bedroom; books music etc included. A one in one out policy reigned), or in daily goings-on (my mother managed these on autopilot). I’m a lot more conscious about those things, and love taking the time to teach my children how to do them is a real pleasure for me. 🙂 It’s wonderful what family can give us, those we grow up in, and those we create later. X x x
Thank you for sharing the story of your fortunate and lovely childhood! I often reflect on the change over recent decades from small homes with few bedrooms, single small bathrooms and small closets to the large homes of today with a large bedroom and bath for each child and closets the size of the small bedrooms of the past and wonder. It seems to me that sharing a bedroom as children as opposed to having a room all to one’s self would better prepare a person to share living quarters in an adult relationship of partnership. And it seems to me that graciously and courteously sharing one bathroom among family members would also be good preparation for adulthood. Maybe not. What do others think?
we spend so much time locking drawers and cabinets so our little ones cant get harmed we forget to open those up when they get old enough to participate
I am a product of Montessori many years ago. Am 90 years old and still remember the school as a wonderful place to be and learn. Believe it or not we had a swimming pool, also showers. Even have a picture of me in a magazine talking about the happy school. All this was in Vienna, Austria.
Thank you for a fun article. I love the child level kitchen. My kitchen is child level. The problem is that the youngest child is now 15 and 6 foot tall.
I’m so happy you all enjoyed my reflection! Donna, I often think about the same thing. NPR quoted a study the other day that found that single family homes have more than DOUBLED in square footage since 1950. I think that shared space is the ultimate lesson in grace and courtesy. I also feel that those lessons (even though I was not a Montessori child, myself) made my days of college dorms and the start of life with my Husband so much easier.
Thank you Keri! great ideas to make a better home!
Just wanted to say how much I enjoyed speaking with your group of reps at the Dogwood Festival yesterday, my son Mikey really enjoyed the drawing on the map! Looking for the Lilburn Montessori schools around Lilburn that they said might be here for my son to attend , can you tell me where one might be here? Thank you , Rebecca Blair Anderson
Such a clear, simple, lovely communication of your childhood. I read this yesterday and was still thinking about it when I woke this morning. The advice is solid and well-informed by your observations as a teacher. What I love, though, is the clear memories you have of delight in the company of your extended family.
It would be hard to exaggerate the power of memories . . .they shape our lives in so many ways. Such good memories are, I think, one of the most valuable gifts. Nothing else compares.
Thanks a million. It’s not always easy to share simple joys, but you did.
Lovely! My parents created a very child – accessible household without losing that important dimension of adulthood. They didn’t dumb it down, they just invited us in. Dana, my daughter, who you may remember from Hershey, benefitted so greatly from schools and households influenced by those Montessori ideas. She is thriving as a young adult – so competent, curious, and engaged in the world! Thank you for your beautiful essay.