San foragers of the Kalahari would probably look at these two red lines and say they were the same length. (Image adapted from Fibonacci on Wikipedia)
The small window into the effects of modern life on the way we think was opened just a little wider recently by an interesting article by Joseph Heinrich and others. They sift through a large number of studies of people living the industrialized life and their more rural counterparts to find real differences in they way these different groups think.
San village
In the image above, the San foragers would be right, the two lines are the same length, but your typical Western, Educated, Industrialized, Rich, and Democratic (WEIRD) person would need to the left line to be about 20% longer for them to say they were identical. Why this is, I can’t say, but it might be that our visual perception is colored at an early age by the carpentered edges we see around us. Or maybe not.
And it’s not just in vision. WEIRD people think of fairness and co-operation in decision-making, and where things are relative to the self differently too, and their kids tend not to be able to identify easily with other species. The latter result is likely because of the “nature deficit“. The article clearly demonstrates that people think very differently, in very fundamental ways, if they come from modern environments.
The paper, found via Big Questions Online and Edge, is a fascinating read, and not too bad coming from a technical journal. There are a lot of interesting results summarizing a lot of behavioral science research. As a reminder to remember that one scientific article, no matter how good it is, remains just one perspective. the paper’s pdf has a number of commentaries and criticisms attached from other behavioral science researchers.
Where the WIERD people are. (Image from Wikipedia)
What I’m still trying to process, are the implications for Montessori educational philosophy. Because there are these significant, large differences in the way people see the world, we need to be aware of the perspectives of our audience. Students also need to appreciate how cultural differences affect the way we think and see the world that influence how we argue and how we behave. Yet they also need to recognize the there are some subjects, say the physical sciences, that are objective; there is a single, definite truth (for some value of definite) about the composition of a water molecule.
Over the winter, we read Brian Swimme’s The Hidden Heart of the Cosmos as part of the HMC Montessori Training Program. Swimme is one of those people trying to reconcile science and religion, or at least some type of spirituality.
He argues that crass commercialism, embodied by the consumer culture and a lot of television that is excrescent and dis-empowering, has replaced the spirituality that our ancestors sought in the dark, quiet reaches of the night. Then they had the time to contemplate the meaning of life and their place and even purpose in the universe. Now we try to respond to a rapidly changing world with no time to consider the fundamental questions.
I tend to be a bit skeptical about just how useful it is to examine the intersection of the sacred and the scientific. The scientific perspective is a powerful way of looking at the world. Spirituality seems to be one of those fundamental needs of human beings. I’ve never found it difficult to see the wonder in the natural world around me (which is why things like texture photography fascinate me). But when we try to describe the natural world in terms of religion and spirituality, I get a bit uncomfortable. When you’re treading the boundary between what we can observe objectively and what we feel subjectively, it’s all to easy to slip between one and the other. To stretch the scientific truth to accommodate the poetic language or metaphor. And so, it’s the little things that end up bugging me to no end.
Copernicus revolutionized the way western civilization viewed the world and itself, Swimme notes. The Earth was no longer at the center of the universe. The Sun did not revolve around us, we revolved around it. So when you see the Sun going down at sunset, it’s not really going down, the Earth is turning away. Except that it is and it isn’t. If the Earth is rotating you away from the Sun, or if the Sun in going down past the horizon, is just a matter of your point of view.
If you want to describe the motion of the planets, the easiest model to construct is one where the Sun is the stationary reference point at the center of the solar system. But, if you were a glutton for punishment, you could write the equations of motion such that the you were the stationary reference point and everything else moved relative to you. It’s a bit like thinking about yourself on a boat floating down a stream. To an observer sitting on the bank you are moving downstream, but to you, the guy on the bank is moving and you’re staying in the same place.
So I get a little agitated when Swimme points out how remarkable it is to think about the fact that we occupy such a small place in such a large universe. He argues that it should broaden your perspective on the universe, and open your mind to larger questions. But I find it just as remarkable, or perhaps even a little more so, to consider the world where I am not moving, and everything else is spinning in some ridiculously complicated dance around me.
I think of Swimme at times when I’m trying to model solute transport through a fluid. Should I try to follow the motion of individual particles with the fluid. Should I take the broader view of the flow through the system. Or should I try to mix the two approaches. Either way, the math should give the same result, since I’m just trying to describe the same thing from different point of view (of course the problem is in how compatible the different approaches are to being programmed).
I know I’m missing the main point of the Hidden Heart of the Cosmos here because of my own hang-ups, so I’ll post an excellent video interview of Brian Swimme by Bob Wright, the author of Nonzero, so he can better explain himself. (If you can’t get the video to play, you can read the transcript.)
I ran into the blog Somewhat in the Air by a parent who is doing Montessori style Homeschool for a couple boys (hat tip to Ms. De La Cruz). The kids are in elementary but approaching middle school age and they have some great links to resources that they use for projects that would also work well in the classroom or for individual projects.
The blog also contains some of the students’ work and the author’s reflections on Montessori philosophy. It’s a fascinating read and I’m really looking forward to seeing how it evolves as the kids grow older.
We know creativity is important, but how do we teach it? Po Bronson and Ashley Merryman have a fascinating article in Newsweek that is a superb advertisement for Montessori education. It posits, with extensive citation to back it up, that the increasing use of standardized curricula and testing is leading to decreased creativity in the U.S..
Of course you don’t teach creativity. Indeed, the arts, which are typically thought of as the first avenue for developing creativity, have no monopoly on the ability.
The age-old belief that the arts have a special claim to creativity is unfounded. When scholars gave creativity tasks to both engineering majors and music majors, their scores laid down on an identical spectrum, with the same high averages and standard deviations. Inside their brains, the same thing was happening—ideas were being generated and evaluated on the fly. – Bronson and Merryman, 2010.
Creativity can be developed with practice. When we’re being creative the brain starts by shifting through a whole bunch of different, vaguely relevant ideas at the same time. At some point some these ideas click together as the brain quickly recognizes some pattern and it focuses, focuses, focuses, encapsulating the pattern into some new insights and evaluating its possible effectiveness. It’s this mental shifting of gears from vague to precise, and the ability to focus attention on the specific problem that we improve on with practice. How:
… alternate maximum divergent thinking with bouts of intense convergent thinking, through several stages. Real improvement doesn’t happen in a weekend workshop. But when applied to the everyday process of work or school, brain function improves. – Bronson and Merryman, 2010.
They outline the steps to a project that practices creative thinking to solve solve a problem:
Start with fact-finding – what do we need to know to solve the problem.
Next scope out the possible problems.
Generate ideas.
Identify the best ideas.
Here the steps alternate from divergent thinking to convergent, general idea collection to focused thinking. They generate facts and ideas, then evaluate them rigorously. Creativity requires both types of thinking because either one is ineffective on its own.
In Montessori
The foundation for fostering this type of creativity in the classroom lies in developing a safe community. Clear rules reduce anxiety but leave room for exploration and curiosity. In the language of Montessori, this translates to developing a prepared environment and allowing freedom within boundaries.
Bronson and Merryman say this about the teacher:
When creative children have a supportive teacher—someone tolerant of unconventional answers, occasional disruptions, or detours of curiosity—they tend to excel. – Bronson and Merryman, 2010.
And they note this about the students:
They’re quitting because they’re discouraged and bored, not because they’re dark, depressed, anxious, or neurotic. It’s a myth that creative people have these traits. (Those traits actually shut down creativity; they make people less open to experience and less interested in novelty.) Rather, creative people, for the most part, exhibit active moods and positive affect. They’re not particularly happy—contentment is a kind of complacency creative people rarely have. But they’re engaged, motivated, and open to the world. – Bronson and Merryman, 2010.
I really like how the authors integrate the cognitive and neuroscience research into the article, to the great benefit of the more detail oriented among us. I always find remarkable how all this new science just continues to demonstrate Maria Montessori’s perceptiveness. The Montessori method is fundamentally designed to foster creativity.
This is a clear argument for the Montessori Method. I’ll certainly use this for my parent presentations and recruiting. As a teacher, however, it doesn’t hurt to be reminded of the importance of creating space for creativity. I like the way Bronson and Merryman put it:
Maria Montessori developed her method teaching through careful observation of children and how they learn, which is why her method had held up so well over time and aligns so well with modern pedagogy (see Lillard, 2005). Montessori’s worked early childhood through elementary kids, and while she did some serious thinking and writing about secondary education, she did not put those thoughts into action herself.
Over the last 20 years or so Betsy Coe has developed, at School of the Woods, an exceptional middle school (and now high school) program based on Montessori’s ideas and tied to close observation of early adolescents and our growing understanding of their cognitive and neurological development. Unlike Montessori’s boarding school model (e.g. Hershey Montessori), Dr. Coe’s is primarily a day school but with “land-labs” one week out of every six, where student get to go out and live on the land.
There’s a lot to say about Dr. Coe’s program (which will be well explained in her upcoming book) but you can glean some of her influence from this blog, because I trained with her over the last two summers at the Houston Montessori Center.
One of the key tenets that Coe shares with Montessori is that the primary job of the teacher is to observe the students, their interactions and their environment. You apply the scientific process to the classroom. Observe, hypothesize, test and make the necessary changes. As such, a key part of the training program is the research project.
For the research project teachers in training have to apply the process to some aspect of their class and write it up. My own project was on the utility of my classroom wiki, which I’ve said a bit about previously. My peers did quite a wide variety of excellent projects, and I’ve asked them to share their experiences with me for the blog. I’m one of those people who’d collect bits of string because they might be useful in the future (hence the blog), so I’m loathe to let their experiences and efforts just disappear since it is unlikely that much of this work will be published.
I plan to post summaries of the research projects so there is a record of who did what, and I apologize for any mistakes I make in condensing the work. My goal is to create at least one node for discussion so that we might add these small anecdotes to the collective gestalt as we attempt to not replicate the interesting errors of others but make brand-new errors of our own.
Since most of this work is not formal research I’ll use the tag anecdotal research to help keep track of things.
That was one of the most poignant moments for me—conversations I had with a class of kids in a school in a tough neighborhood who simply had no positive associations at all with the idea of silence.
– George Prochnik (Gorney, 2010)
In constructing the Montessori classroom we aim for an open, uncluttered environment. George Prochnik has an interesting little interview in the Atlantic about the value of silence in our noisy world. He points out that there has been a movement away from the sound deadening carpets, tablecloths and wall hanging in the interior design of restaurants, in an effort to generate more energy. Of course that makes things louder. Thinking about the interior design of the classroom, I can see how there might be a trade-off between creating an uncluttered environment and designing for a quiet classroom.
Of course, in a classroom of adolescents, some prefer to work in quiet, while others favor the energy and noise in the background. I try to create nooks and crannies where students can get out of the noise but are still visible to the rest of the room. I also allow students to use headsets during individual work time.
Thinking about it now, the nooks were designed to fit small groups of three, but the students only really migrated toward them as individuals. So it may be that their primary value has been to provide small cones of silence and I should make more of them but smaller ones.
The training at the Houston Montessori Center for secondary teachers is long and quite intense. Two teachers from a new Montessori school in Lakeland Florida are keeping a blog about their experience to keep the parents and supporters of the school at home updated on what’s going on. It’s a wonderful read.
Ms. Clarke and Ms. De La Cruz are an excellent team. They’re starting up a new program and it’s nice to see the training program from that perspective. I am quite excited to see how their middle school turns out. In their blog, they convey quite nicely the quality of the training program and the impressive quality of the teachers in training.
Rio de Janeiro slum (right) on hill, contrasted with a more affluent neighbourhood, as viewed from a tram in Santa Teresa; Cristo Redentor is in the left background. (Image by chensiyuan on Wikimedia Commons)
The way we write and the way we speak have an enormous impact on our success in life. Formal language has a sequential, cause-and-effect structure that favors steady continuity which facilitates logical argument. It’s what we try to teach. It is the language of education, office-work and, in our society, the middle class.
Casual language has a very different narrative structure, starting at the emotional high-point, emphasizing relationships and requiring audience participation. It is the language for engaged storytelling. In our society, for the most part, formal language is valued while casual language is not. Casual language is used, most often, by people in poverty.
The separation imposed by these two forms of language defines the “culture of poverty” described by Ruby K. Payne in her book, “Framework for Understanding Poverty“. Payne argues that there are profound cultural differences between the poor and the middle class that tends to propagate poverty from generation to generation.
The poor tend to value interpersonal relationships, emotional responses and short-term interactions while the middle class favors self-sufficiency, logical responses and planning for the future. And these values manifest themselves most obviously in casual versus formal language. Because language is cultural and is passed on with culture, so is poverty. Poverty is self-perpetuating.
[For] students to be successful, we must . . . teach them the rules that will make them successful at school and at work. – Payne (2003)
Payne’s work is popular, over one million books sold and she trains over 40,000 educators a year (Ng and Rury, 2009), but she is not without her strident critics. Image from Jakarta by Jonathan McIntosh
Most of the criticisms appear to be based on the fact that her work is anecdotal, not scientifically based, especially since there is some scientific evidence that conflicts with her observations. Ng and Rury, (2009) emphasize that poverty is a complex issue:
Our analysis, however, demonstrates statistical associations of varying strengths between children’s educational success and a host of different circumstances impacting their lives. Poverty itself is a serious issue, no doubt. Its lone impact may not be as significant as other factors, though, and it often works in conjunction with other disadvantaging variables. – Ng and Rury, (2009)
In thinking of applying this book, Michael Reinke’s review of Payne’s book concludes that, “a recommendation for use of this book either in the classroom or the general workplace would only come with some significant reservations.” Also, “A Framework for Understanding Poverty is a good start for the uninitiated student or professional working for the first time with a low income population. At the same time, it must be read in the context of a broader conversation on poverty. To view it as the sole source for developing classroom strategies would do a disservice to all involved.”
The greatest utility of Payne’s book may be where she discusses instructional techniques and how to improve instruction.
It is in the chapter where Payne has the most experience, “Instruction and Improving Achievement,” that she takes the more immediate approach. Identifying input strategies, designing lesson plans around cognitive strategies, and conceptual frameworks for instruction all provide a starting point for the teacher looking for assistance and for the student trying to learn. It may or may not be true that the concept of “hidden rules” has merit, but the teacher in the classroom–never mind the student–is likely to benefit from more concrete strategies addressing specific concerns. – Michael Reinke
Payne does back up her recommendations for instruction with the scientific literature so, as a result, a lot of it looks like what you see in the Montessori training. A piecewise comparison of Payne’s general instructional techniques and the Montessori Method (see Lillard, 2005) would make for an interesting project. I’ve also come across some good exercises that I think will apply very nicely to middle school.
