Earlier this year, I witnessed a moment between two Capstone Primary children that touched me deeply. The children had been finishing up their work before recess and came into the hallway a few moments after their classmates had gone ahead. The younger child, who had recently turned five, calmly asked the older five year old child, “Will you help me tie my laces?” The older child said she would help, once she got her own shoes on, and then prompted her with a gentle “Remember what I showed you.” The younger child started working on her own lace, waiting calmly for help. And sure enough, as soon as the older child had her own shoes on, she came over and started tying her peer’s second lace. A few moments later, the girls walked out to the playground together in perfect harmony.

I saw the children engage in something both ordinary and essential. They shared the goal of going outside, and negotiated a way forward in which both had their needs met respectfully. The younger child asked for help with confidence and listened to the response with acceptance. The older child kindly set both a limit and an expectation while offering encouragement. The children gave each other the time to complete their work.

Another day, when a vivacious three-year-old ran across the prepared environment, I stopped him, and gently said, “Let me show you how we walk inside.” A moment later, one of the capstone boys came and said, “I can show him.” The little one turned to his senior peer with complete attention, looking up at his face then down at his feet, and matching his steps to the slow and measured pace of his leader.

More recently, an older three-year-old child bit a four-year-old on the arm just before our end-of-day Songs and Stories. What happened afterward impressed me. The children were upset: the bitten child came to me hurting, the biting child sat watching anxiously, and the other children sat watching in dismay. Nobody was feeling good. After reassuring the bitten child and inviting her to go with our assistant to wash the wound, I got down to eye level with the child who had bitten their peer, and said, “Biting hurts. Your teeth are hard and sharp. You may not bite people. You may bite food or teethers. If you need a teether, let me know, and I will help you get one.” I sat down beside the child and turned to the other children, who also needed reassurance, and said “[Child] made a mistake. It was a mistake that hurt [Child.] Everybody makes mistakes. Another name for a mistake is a learning opportunity. We can help each other do better if we offer kindness and compassion.”

Here’s the part that impressed me. A five-year-old spoke up and said, “My little brother bit me once. He’s little. He’s learning. We’re all learning.” The other children nodded and some chorused, “We’re learning.” Even the child who was hurting from the bite nodded. Another older three-year-old came over to stand by the child who had bitten and contemplatively said ‘I used to bite, but I learned better. [Child] will learn better.” The five-year-old calmly said to another child, “You bit me once.” The former biter said, “Yes, I did.” Realizing that the other children were not going to reject them for their mistake, the child who had bitten relaxed against me. Moments later, when I noted it was time for us to start lining up, an observing child said, “But I thought we were going to have stories.” I said, “We all did. As it turned out, we needed to have an important conversation.”

The compassion the children showed their peer, and their confidence that the child would learn to do better, were deeply rooted in their experience.

In a healthy, happy community, we live alongside each other, working and playing, sometimes by ourselves and sometimes together, celebrating our individuality and our togetherness. We build trust. We celebrate success. We value peace: we notice when we have it, and when it is disturbed. When there is conflict, we intentionally turn towards each other to figure out how we can help meet each other’s needs and restore connection. When we need help, we recruit a mediator. We share our perspective and listen to others. We make amends. We forgive and we choose to move on.

In Montessori schools, this is our everyday aim, and more often than not, it is our everyday experience. So how do we foster a healthy, happy community?

At every level, the prepared environment is an intentional space. While every material is chosen with care, it is the people within that bring it to life. The children and their adults form a small, tight-knit community within the larger school community.

A guide purposefully fosters social cohesion in many ways, beginning with modeling and connection. Everyday we say good morning to each child by name, welcoming each child as a valued individual. Over time, each child learns that we understand that every day is a new day, and even if they had a challenging time the day before, they have a fresh start today. While we model purposefully greeting each other by name, we follow the child’s lead as to how they would like to be welcomed, whether it’s a simple smile, a hug, a minute to share news, or a moment to discuss ideas for work. We mirror happiness and accept sadness. This everyday moment of connection is the foundation of trust, and it sets an accepting tone that encourages confidence and openness.

Every day we make time to gather. In Douglas Fir, the first activity we do is to sit down together and sing Come Let Us Gather. This is both an invitation and a ritual, dedicating the next ten to fifteen minutes to working as a group to sing songs, chant poems, read stories, share news, listen to questions and comments, and play games. While we may be chatting or singing, it is anything but idle. This playful time brings us closer.

In Douglas Fir, we regularly read Nancy Carlson’s I Like Me! The children connect with the narrator’s positive attitude and love to engage with call and response for the pages which focus on problem solving. I read “When I feel sad or bad, I …” and the children chorus “Cheer myself up!” “When I fall down, I …” “Pick myself up!” When I make mistakes, I …” “Try and try again.” I always notice that the child asks for a little help too. The whole book is empowering, and yet, it is the children’s shared celebration of knowing what they can each do to solve a real life problem, and the confidence they feel in responding acts as a scaffold to communal problem solving.

Similarly, when we sing Make New Friends, we consciously treasure both our existing friendships and the possibility of new friendships. Whether we sing one verse or eight, this joyful song sets a tone of inclusion. As a guide, I intentionally begin the year with this story and song, as they help establish our social foundation. As the year goes on, the children’s familiarity and good feelings about both I Like Me! and Make New Friends mean I can draw on them for comfort, if children have been struggling, or rededicate our social contract when we have a new child due to join our community. As time goes on, we can sing Raffi’s The More We Get Together genuinely, with enthusiasm and enjoyment in our closeness.

If the foundation of social cohesion is modeling, observation, and purposeful, repetitive practice leading to refinement build the walls and roof of the Children’s House.

Within each environment, the guide and assistant model and observe constantly, noting fluctuations in the overall tone, and choosing when to engage directly. Often we simply observe, remaining a reliable and unneeded resource in the moment, watching how the children work through their problems. This self-restraint offers the children a silent vote of confidence, while simultaneously allowing us to learn much more about the children involved.

Will a child who is sewing figure out how to knot their thread? How are they feeling about the challenge? If stuck, will they seek an adult or a peer? If they approach an adult, do they need immediate help to maintain focus, or are they able to stretch? If so, we can offer a list of children who have mastered or are close to mastering tying a knot, and able to help. Who does the child choose to ask for help? Do they watch while their peer ties the knot?

Over time, each child witnesses us noticing someone working through a problem. They see us calmly watch, with interest and without interruption, for a moment or two, and then as often as not, turn away. They feel the trust offered, and their sense being seen as capable and of being capable grows. The trust offered to one child is shared by all. At other times, the children see us approach a child who is stuck, and say ‘“May I help you?” They see us listen to the answer, and if welcomed, help a little before leaving the child to work. They see grace and courtesy in action.

When we observe a missing or underdeveloped social skill, we note the need for a Grace and Courtesy lesson. At heart, these lessons are role play games dedicated to introducing and practicing one particular skill. Grace and Courtesy lessons are usually played in a small group of three to six children, and always when the children are relaxed. The lesson is introduced simply and kindly, without any reference to the moment that triggered it. “Today, I’m going to show you how we can offer help. When you notice someone may need help, you can say ‘May I help you?’ Then it’s time to listen. The person will either say ‘Yes, please’ or ‘No, thank you.’ Now it’s my turn. I’ll show you. Who would like to take a turn?”

In the prepared environment, we aim to include a child who has already practiced the skill and can reliably model it during the children’s practice. Children learn most easily from other children, and having a peer confidently model the skill inspires deeper engagement. The guide asks the knowledgeable child to come and help with the lesson. When it is time to model a relational skill, the guide demonstrates in partnership with this child. Being recognized by the guide and given an explicit opportunity to act as a peer leader builds self-esteem. If the child agrees to join the lesson, and they usually do, they play with self-assurance and positive pride.

Some Grace and Courtesy lessons introduce behaviors that will soon enough become habits for many children, as they are practiced and witnessed daily. In September each year, we introduce basic classroom courtesies such as Walking Around a Work Mat and Observing a Lesson. While some lessons are focussed on hygiene or safety, such as Covering a Cough/Sneeze and Carrying & Passing Scissors, most Grace and Courtesy lessons focus on a social dynamic, showing children the steps involved in negotiating a moment with dignity and mutual respect. And although some of these lessons may be shared ahead of an observed need, like Offering Help, most are shared in response to the current needs of the children.

Last year in Douglas Fir, we repeatedly played Setting Boundaries with Name Calling. The children learned to say “My name is [given name]. You may call me [given name/calling name],” in a matter-of-fact tone. We acknowledged that sometimes the person may continue to tease, and that once the boundary is set, the child’s work shifts to ignoring the name calling. If it did not, and the child was upset, they were welcomed to seek adult support. By and large, the children were able to resolve this issue independently. When a child came to tell me of an incident and ask for support, the same limit was set. “[Child] has invited you to call her/him/them [name]. You may call her/him/them [name].” While it may seem odd to feel grateful for this unpleasant behavior to have arisen, the children who needed to experiment with how it felt to call someone by a silly name gave the other children the opportunity to practice setting a clear boundary in a kind and firm manner. Over time children learned that name calling doesn’t feel good on either side and the behavior stopped.

More recently, we have been playing Offering/Asking for a Hug. We saw the need for this lesson when children started to hug others who did not want a hug at that moment. Children respond differently when hugged without agreement. Some say “Stop” or “Let go” and may push away. Others are quietly upset and hold their body stiffly. When this happens, the attempt at loving connection has gone awry and neither child is feeling good. This dynamic is just as problematic as name calling as it damages trust and causes hurt feelings.

So we started playing Offering/Asking for a Hug. “Sometimes we would really like a hug. Today I’m going to show you how to offer a hug or ask for a hug. You can say ‘May I hug you?’ or ‘Would you like a hug?’ or ‘May I have a hug?’ Then the other person gets to decide.”

“The person will either say ‘Yes, please,’ or ‘No, thank you.’ They may say it with their words or their body or both! If the person says ‘Sure’ or opens their arms and steps towards you, it means yes. If the person says ‘Another time’ or shakes their head, it means no. That’s ok. We only hug someone who agrees. Now it’s my turn. I’ll show you.”

The first time we played this game, something marvelous happened. A child stood stock still and stared at their feet when offered a hug. Here was an opportunity for deeper learning. “[Child] is saying no with their body. If you ask someone for a hug, and they look at their feet silently, it means no. We only hug someone who says yes.” Wonderfully, this child came to the follow-on lesson with another small group of children, and repeated this behavior, helping all the children present learn to read this cue. This simple lesson on consent has changed the dynamic in our class to one of asking before hugging, and everyone is happier for it. When someone hugs without asking, the hugged child can simply say “Ask first,” and they can try again.

Sometimes, a more immediate response is needed. We triage in the moment, helping the children resolve their point of tension by acting as the mediator for the children’s conversation, encouraging the children to take turns at describing what happened and how they feel and listening openly without interruption. We offer security, calm and attention. If having spoken their piece and having heard their peer, the children are still stuck, we encourage problem solving. Helping children who are feeling upset to reconnect with each other and feel secure in their social bonds relies on the foundation of trust and respect and the social skills we have actively established since our first day together.

Each of these skills is internalized most deeply when witnessed and practiced many, many times. As with Setting Boundaries with Name Calling, the skill may be used very frequently for a time then remain on call as needed. For other skills, like Offering Help, a child’s ongoing daily experience offers an incredible number of opportunities to both offer help and accept or decline the offer directly, and to witness others engaging positively. The child’s three to four years within the same class community offer this needed time for practice.

Skills that were once learned step-by-step as a lesson are refined through everyday social interactions with all their spontaneous approaches and responses. The children observe that the adults and knowledgeable children in their environment use variations on the skills shared. They experiment and discover that often, when they try, it works too. When it doesn’t work, they check in with adults to troubleshoot or remind the other children of these shared expectations. These role played games become our lived values building a deep sense of self-assurance and of belonging to a respectful community.

Victoria Armstrong, TTMS Primary Guide