Spontaneous Activity in Education. Maria Montessori Montessori
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will perhaps be more interesting to follow a lesson actually given, and accepted as a model for teachers in general. I therefore reproduce one of the lessons which gained a prize at a competition of teachers held in Italy.[3] In this, according to the subject or theme, only one primary psychical activity was to be dealt with: viz. sensory perception. (The compositions were distinguished not by the names of the authors, but by mottoes.)
Motto.—Things are the first and best teachers.
I set myself the following limits:
To give an idea of icy cold in contrast to that of heat. [This would be amply sufficient in itself, for these ideas are not grains to pick up one after the other, but sublime psychical facts of great complexity, and, consequently, very difficult to assimilate.]
Combine with the idea to be imparted, the cultivation of a sense of compassion and pity for the very poor, to whom winter brings such severe suffering; a feeling I have already tried many times to arouse.
The above is for my own guidance; what follows is for the children.
"Children, how comfortable we are here! Everything is clean; everything is in order; I am so fond of you; you are so fond of me. Isn't this true, children?
Children.—I am, I am. Me too (correct).
Tell me, Gino, are you cold? You said no at once. Well, no, you are right; we are really very cozy here. There, in that corner (I point) there is a thing which gives out much …
Children.—Heat. It is the stove.
But outside, where there is no stove, over there, towards the horizon (the children are to a certain extent familiar with this word), there is no warmth.
Children.—It's cold there (an answer due to the clarity of the laws of contrast).
Last night … while we were asleep, while your mother perhaps was mending your clothes … dear mother, how kind she is! … well, last night, so many, many white flakes fell softly from the sky! …
Snow, snow! exclaim the children.
Children! let us say: so many snowflakes fell. How beautiful the snow is! Let us go and look at it closely.
Children.—Yes, yes, yes, yes.
It is so beautiful that I see you would all like to take a little. But perhaps this is not allowed. To whom does the snow belong? (No answer.) Who bought it? Who made it? You? No. I? No. Your mother? No. Then did your father buy it? (They look at me in astonishment; these are really very strange questions.) No, again. Well then, the snow belongs to every one. And if this is so, we may take a little handful of it. (Evident signs of joy.) I will hand round the boxes you made yesterday. (These children have not desks with lockers in which they may put their little works. Using the boxes will be a good way of demonstrating the utility of their work.) They will do very well to hold the beautiful snow. (I talk to them as I distribute the boxes, that their attention may not flag.) I will take mine too, the one I made with you. It is larger than yours; so which will hold more snow, mine or yours?
Children.—Yours.
Come then, children. Put a white handful into your boxes. How delightful!
(Going.) Just stop a moment; how comfortable we are here! Put one hand over your face. How warm your face is, and how warm your hand is too! We shall see whether your hands will still be so warm after you have touched the snow.
Children.—They will be cold.
Yes, indeed. (Going out.) How beautiful it is! It fell down from above. The sky has given the earth a beautiful dress, all …
Children.—White.
At this juncture my children, accustomed to that principle of healthful, ordered liberty which is the main factor in the formation of character, touch and gather up the snow; some of them break the pure surface with little drawings. I let them. I wait a minute, then I make as it were a sudden assault upon their attention:
Children, I too will take a little snow, but together with all of you. Stop. Stand up. Look well at me. Let us take away a little strip of the great cloak. Let us put it in our boxes. That's right. (Re-entering the schoolroom.) Oh! how cold it is! The children who are not well wrapped up are the coldest. Poor little things! And those who haven't that thing full of burning coal in their houses!
Children.—The stove.
How cold they will be! Come now, quickly; all to your places. Put the boxes on the desk. How cold the snow is! Did you notice how cold it made your hands, which were quite warm?
Children.—My hand is cold! Mine too! Etc.
In the courtyard, I saw Caroline take a little snow, and then suddenly let it fall; she was not strong enough to bear such cold. But then she tried again, and the second time she did not drop it.
Child.—I didn't. I putted it (correct) quickly into my box.
Children, when the cold is as great as the cold of the snow, it is called frost. Say that, Guido. What is the word? Now you, Giannina. And the snow which is so cold is … what? Who can guess?
A child.—Frozen.
Say: the snow is frozen.
We came indoors, because it is frosty outside, and inside it is …
Children.—Warm.
But we brought with us a frozen thing which is called …
Children.—Snow.
What is it the stove gives us? Do you remember?[4]
Children.—Heat.
I want Maria to tell me. And now, Peppino.
Do you know, our mouths also give out heat. Open yours. Not too much! Hold up one hand in front of it, the right hand. Breathe on it as I am doing. Let us breathe again; now let us send our breath outwards, as I am doing. Again … again … again. That's right. Now feel. You see your mouth too gives out a little …
Children.—Heat.
Now let us try putting a little snow into it. A little piece like this. Oh! the heat of the mouth is escaping, it has already gone at the icy touch of the snow.
Children.—Our mouths are cold now.
Yes, that's right. They are very, very cold, so cold that they are what we call …
Children.—Freezing.
Perhaps Giuseppe doesn't know. He didn't say it with the others. Say it again, that he may say it with you. Again. That will do. Bravo, Giuseppe. So our mouths were …
Children.—Freezing.
Let us eat another little piece of snow. The snow turns to water in our mouths, because it is made of water only. Now bread is made of water too, but not only of water. What does the baker want to make the dough for bread? …
Children.—Flour.
And what else?
Children.—Salt.
And what else?
Children.—Yeast.
I see Luigi is still eating snow, and Alfonso too, and Pierino. Do you like it?
Children.—Yes, Signora.
Do you like it?
Children.—Yes, Signora. Me too, me too (correct).
Well, eat a little more, but not much, it might make you ill. It is so freezing (I repeat this word very often, because it expresses the idea I am trying to convey).
When it snows it is so very cold, and just think that there are