CHAPTER VI

FREEDOM AND INDIVIDUALITY

The reader has undoubtedly been struck by the fact that in all of

the work described, pupils must have been allowed a greater amount

of freedom than is usually thought compatible with the necessary

discipline of a schoolroom. To the great majority of teachers and

parents the very word school is synonymous with “discipline,” with

quiet, with rows of children sitting still at desks and listening to

the teacher, speaking only when they are spoken to. Therefore a school

where these fundamental characteristics are lacking must of necessity

be a poor school; one where pupils do not learn anything, where they do

just as they please, quite regardless of what they please, even though

it be harmful to the child himself or disagreeable to his classmates

and the teacher.

There is a certain accumulation of facts that every child must acquire

or else grow up to be illiterate. These facts relate principally to

adult life; therefore it is not surprising that the pupil is not

interested in them, while it is the duty of the school to see that he

knows them nevertheless. How is this to be done? Obviously by seating

the children in rows, far enough apart so that they cannot easily talk

to each other, and hiring the most efficient person available to teach

the facts; to tell them to the child, and have him repeat them often

enough so that he can reasonably be expected to remember them, at least

until after he is “promoted.”

Again, children should be taught to obey; efficiency in doing as one

is told is a useful accomplishment, just as the doing of distasteful

and uninteresting tasks is a character builder. The pupil should be

taught to “respect” his teacher and learning in general; and how can

he be taught this lesson if he does not sit quietly and receptively in

the face of both? But if he will not be receptive, he must at least be

quiet, so that the teacher can teach him anyway. The very fact that

the pupil so often is lawless, destructive, rude and noisy as soon as

restraint is removed proves, according to the advocates of “discipline”

by authority, that this is the only way of dealing with the child,

since without such restraint the child would behave all day long as he

does when it is removed for a few uncertain minutes.

If this statement of the disciplinarian’s case sounds harsh and

unadorned, think for a moment of the things that visitors to “queer

schools” say after the visit is over; and consider whether they do

not force the unprejudiced observer to the conclusion that their

idea of schools and schooling is just such a harsh and unadorned

affair. The discussion of freedom versus authoritative discipline in

schools resolves itself after all into a question of the conception

of education which is entertained. Are we to believe, with the strict

disciplinarian, that education is the process of making a little

savage into a little man, that there are many virtues as well as facts

that have to be taught to all children so that they may as nearly

as possible approach the adult standard? Or are we to believe, with

Rousseau, that education is the process of making up the discrepancy

between the child at his birth and the man as he will need to be, “that

childhood has its own ways of seeing, thinking, and feeling,” and that

the method of training these ways to what a man will need is to let the

child test them upon the world about him?

The phrase, “authoritative discipline,” is used purposely, for

discipline and freedom are not contradictory ideas. The following

quotation from Rousseau shows very plainly what a heavy taskmaster

even his freedom was, a freedom so often taken to mean mere lawlessness

and license. “Give him [the pupil] no orders at all, absolutely none.

Do not even let him think that you claim any authority over him. Let

him know only that he is weak and you are strong, that his condition

and yours puts him at your mercy; let this be perceived, learned and

felt. Let him early find upon his proud neck the heavy yoke which

nature has imposed upon us, the heavy yoke of necessity, under which

every finite being must bow. Let him find the necessity in things, not

in the caprices of man; let the curb be the force of conditions, not

authority.”

Surely no discipline could be more severe, more apt to develop

character and reasonableness, nor less apt to develop disorder and

laziness. In fact the real reason for the feeling against freedom in

schools seems to come from a misunderstanding. The critic confuses

physical liberty with moral and intellectual liberty. Because the

pupils are moving about, or sitting on the floor, or have their chairs

scattered about instead of in a straight line, because they are using

their hands and tongues, the visitor thinks that their minds must

be relaxed as well; that they must be simply fooling, with no more

restraint for their minds and morals than appears for their bodies.

Learning in school has been so long associated with a docile or passive

mind that because that useful organ does not squirm or talk in its

operations, observers have come to think that none of the child should

do so, or it will interfere with learning.

Assuming that educational reformers are right in supposing that the

function of education is to help the growing of a helpless young animal

into a happy, moral, and efficient human being, a consistent plan of

education must allow enough liberty to promote that growth. The child’s

body must have room to move and stretch itself, to exercise the muscles

and to rest when tired. Every one agrees that swaddling clothes are a

bad thing for the baby, cramping and interfering with bodily functions.

The swaddling clothes of the straight-backed desk, head to the front

and hands folded, are just as cramping and even more nerve racking to

the school child. It is no wonder that pupils who have to sit in this

way for several hours a day break out in bursts of immoderate noise

and fooling as soon as restraining influences are removed. Since they

do not have a normal outlet for their physical energy to spend itself,

it is stored up, and when opportunity offers it breaks forth all the

more impetuously because of the nervous irritation previously suffered

in repressing the action of an imperfectly trained body. Give a child

liberty to move and stretch when he needs it, with opportunities for

real exercise all through the day and he will not become so nervously

overwrought that he is irritable or aimlessly boisterous when left to

himself. Trained in _doing_ things, he will be able to keep at work and

to think of other people when he is not under restraining supervision.

A truly scientific education can never develop so long as children

are treated in the lump, merely as a class. Each child has a strong

individuality, and any science must take stock of all the facts in its

material. Every pupil must have a chance to show what he truly is, so

that the teacher can find out what he needs to make him a complete

human being. Only as a teacher becomes acquainted with each one of her

pupils can she hope to understand childhood, and it is only as she

understands it that she can hope to evolve any scheme of education

which shall approach either the scientific or the artistic standard.

As long as educators do not know their individual facts they can never

know whether their hypotheses are of value. But how are they to know

their material if they impose themselves upon it to such an extent

that each portion is made to act just like every other portion? If the

pupils are marched into line, information presented to them which they

are then expected to give back in uniform fashion, nothing will ever be

found out about any of them. But if every pupil has an opportunity to

express himself, to show what are his particular qualities, the teacher

will have material on which to base her plans of instruction.

Since a child lives in a social world, where even the simplest act or

word is bound up with the words and acts of his neighbors, there is

no danger that this liberty will sacrifice the interests of others to

caprice. Liberty does not mean the removal of the checks which nature

and man impose on the life of every individual in the community, so

that one individual may indulge impulses which go against his own

welfare as a member of society. But liberty for the child is the chance

to test all impulses and tendencies on the world of things and people

in which he finds himself, sufficiently to discover their character so

that he may get rid of those which are harmful, and develop those which

are useful to himself and others. Education which treats all children

as if their impulses were those of the average of an adult society

(whose weaknesses and failures are moreover constantly deplored) is

sure to go on reproducing that same average society without even

finding out whether and how it might be better. Education which finds

out what children really are may be able to shape itself by this

knowledge so that the best can be kept and the bad eliminated. Meantime

much is lost by a mere external suppression of the bad which equally

prevents the expression of the better.

If education demands liberty before it can shape itself according to

facts, how is it to use this liberty for the benefit of the child?

Give a child freedom to find out what he can and can not do, both in

the way of what is physically possible and what his neighbors will

stand for, and he will not waste much time on impossibilities but will

bend his energies to the possibilities. The physical energy and mental

inquisitiveness of children can be turned into positive channels. The

teacher will find the spontaneity, the liveliness, and initiative of

the pupil aids in teaching, instead of being, as under the coercive

system, nuisances to be repressed. The very things which are now

interferences will become positive qualities that the teacher is

cultivating. Besides preserving qualities which will be of use to the

man and developing habits of independence and industry, allowing the

child this freedom is necessary if pupils are really to learn by doing.

Most doing will lead only to superficial muscle training if it is

dictated to the child and prescribed for him step by step. But when the

child’s natural curiosity and love of action are put to work on useful

problems, on finding out for himself how to adjust his environment to

his needs, the teacher finds that the pupils are not only doing their

lessons as well as ever, but are also learning how to control and put

to productive use those energies which are simply disturbing in the

average classroom. Unless the pupil has some real work on which to

exercise his mind by means of his senses and muscles, the teacher will

not be able to do away with the ordinary disciplinary methods. For in

a classroom where the teacher is doing all the work and the children

are listening and answering questions, it would be absurd to allow

the children to place themselves where they please, to move about,

or to talk. Where the teacher’s rôle has changed to that of helper

and observer, where the development of every child is the goal, such

freedom becomes as much a necessity of the work as is quiet where the

children are simply reciting.

[Illustration]

[Illustration: Learning to live through situations that are typical of

social life. (Teachers College, N. Y. City.)]

At present, the most talked of schools in which freedom and liberty

are necessary for the children’s work are the schools of Madame Maria

Montessori in Italy and those of her pupils in this country. Madame

Montessori believes, with many educators in this country, that liberty

is necessary in the classroom if the teacher is to know the needs and

capabilities of each pupil, if the child is to receive in school a

well-rounded training making for the best development of his mind,

character, and physique. In general, her reasons for insisting upon

this liberty, which is the basis of her method, correspond with those

outlined above, with one exception. She holds that liberty is necessary

for the child if a scientific education is to be created, because

without it data on which to base principles can not be collected;

also that it is necessary for the physical welfare of the pupils and

for the best development of their characters in training them to be

independent. The point of difference between the Italian educator and

most reformers in this country lies in their respective views of the

value of liberty in the use of material, and this point will be taken

up later.

Madame Montessori believes that repressing children physically while

they are in school and teaching them habits of mental passivity and

docility is mistaking the function of the school and doing the children

real harm. Scientific education not only needs freedom for the child

in order to collect data, but liberty is its very basis; “liberty is

activity,” says Madame Montessori in her book called “The Montessori

Method.” Activity is the basis of life, consequently training children

to move and act is training them for life, which is the proper office

of the schoolroom. The object of liberty is the best interests of the

whole group; this becomes the end of the liberty allowed the children.

Everything which does not contribute to it must be suppressed, while

the greatest care is taken to foster every action with a useful scope.

In order to give the pupils the largest possible scope for such useful

activity, they are allowed a very large amount of freedom in the

classroom. They may move about, talk to each other, place their tables

and chairs where they please, and, what is of more significance, each

pupil may choose what work he will do, and may work at one thing as

long or as short a time as he wishes. She says, “A room in which all

the children move about usefully, intelligently, and voluntarily,

without committing any rough or rude act, would seem to me a classroom

very well disciplined indeed.” Discipline, in short, is ability to do

things independently, not submission under restraint.

In order to bring about this active discipline, which allows free

scope for any useful work, and at the same time does not stifle the

spontaneous impulses of the child, the ordinary methods of discipline

are done away with, and a technique is developed to emphasize the

positive, not the negative, side of discipline. Montessori has

described it in this way: “As to punishments, we have many times come

in contact with children who disturbed the others, without paying any

attention to our corrections. Such children were at once examined by

the physician. When the case proved to be that of a normal child,

we placed one of the little tables in a corner of the room, and in

this way isolated the child, having him sit in a comfortable little

armchair, so placed that he might see his companions at work, and

giving him those games and toys to which he was most attracted. This

isolation almost always succeeded in calming the child; from his

position he could see the entire assembly of his companions, and the

way in which they carried on their work was an object-lesson much more

efficacious than any words of the teacher could possibly have been.

Little by little he would come to see the advantages of being one of

the company working so busily before his eyes, and he would really

wish to go back and do as the others did.” The corrections which the

teachers first offer never take the form of scoldings; the child is

quietly told that what he is doing is not polite or disturbs the other

children. Then he is told how he ought to behave to be a pleasant

companion, or his attention is diverted to a piece of work. Because

children are working on something of their own choice, and when they

want to, and because they may move and talk enough so that they do not

get nervously tired, there is very little need for any “punishment.”

Except for an isolated case of real lawlessness, such as Montessori

refers to in the quotation just cited, the visitor to one of her

schools sees very little need of negative discipline. The teachers’

corrections are practically all for small breaches of manners or for

carelessness.

Activity founded on liberty being the guiding principle of the

Montessori schools, activity is expended by the child on two sorts of

material. Montessori believes that the child needs practice in the

actions of daily life; that, for example, he should be taught how to

take care of and wait on himself. Part of the work is accordingly

directed to this end. She also believes that the child possesses

innate faculties which should be allowed to develop to their fullest;

consequently part of the work is designed to give adequate expression

to these faculties. These exercises for the culture of the inner

potentialities of the child she considers the more important of the

two. The child needs to know how to adjust himself to his environment

in order to be independent and happy; but an imperfect development

of the child’s faculties is an imperfect development of life itself;

so the real object of education consists in furnishing active help

to the normal expansion of the life of the child. These two lines of

development Madame Montessori considers to be so distinct one from the

other that the exercises of practical life cannot perform the function

of the exercises arranged to train the faculties and senses of the

child.

The exercises of practical life are designed to teach the child to

be independent, to supply his own wants, and to perform the actions

of daily life with skill and grace. The pupils keep the schoolroom

in order, dusting and arranging the furniture, and putting away each

piece of material as soon as they are through with it. They wait

on themselves while they are working, getting out the things they

want, finding a convenient place to work, and then taking care of

the apparatus when they have worked with it as long as they like. In

schools where the children do not live in the building, a midday lunch

is served for the pupils; and, except for the cooking, the children do

all the work connected with the meal, setting tables, serving food, and

then clearing away and washing the dishes. All the pupils share alike

in this work, regardless of their age; children of three and four soon

learn to handle the plates and glasses, and to pass the food. Wherever

possible the schools have gardens, which the children care for, and

animal pets of a useful sort--hens and chickens or pigeons. Even the

youngest children put on their own wraps, button and unbutton their

aprons and slippers, and when they can not do it for themselves, they

help each other. The necessity of the pupils’ learning to take care of

themselves as early as possible is so much insisted upon that in order

to help the youngest in learning this lesson, Montessori has designed

several appliances to give them practice before they begin to wait upon

themselves. These are wooden frames, fitted with cloth which is opened

down the center. Then the edges are joined either with buttons, hooks

and eyes, or ribbons, and practice consists in opening and closing

these edges by buttoning, hooking, or tying as the case may be.

These appliances may be taken as a bridge between the two sorts of

exercises in use in the Montessori schools. They mark a transition

from the principles which are common to most educational reformers to

those associated particularly with the method worked out by Madame

Montessori. Another quotation from her first book gives the clew to

an understanding of this method: “In a pedagogical method which is

experimental the education of the senses must undoubtedly assume

the greatest importance.... The method used by me is that of making

a pedagogical experiment with a didactic object and awaiting the

spontaneous reaction of the child.... With little children, we must

proceed to the making of trials, and must select the didactic materials

in which they show themselves to be interested.... I believe, however,

that I have arrived at a selection of objects representing the minimum

necessary to a practical sense education.”

Madame Montessori started her career as a teacher among deficient

children in the hospitals where Seguin had worked. Naturally she

experimented with the material used with her subnormal pupils when she

began working with normal children. It is equally natural that many of

the objects which had proved useful with the former were also usable

with the average school child. Ordinary school methods succeed with

deficient children when used more slowly and with more patience; and in

the same way Madame Montessori found that many of the appliances which

had before been used only for deficients produced remarkably successful

results with ordinary children, when used with more rapidity and

liberty. Therefore her “didactic material” includes many things that

are used generally to develop sensory consciousness among deficients.

But instead of using the material in a fixed order and under the

guidance of a teacher, the normal child is allowed complete liberty in

its use; for the object is no longer to awaken powers that are nearly

lacking, but to exercise powers that the child is using constantly in

all his daily actions, so that he may have a more and more accurate and

skillful control over them.

The exercises to develop the faculties of the child are especially

so arranged as to train the power to discriminate and to compare.

His sensory organs are nearly all exercised with apparatus designed,

like the button frames, to allow the child to do one thing for one

purpose. The pupil does not have to use these objects in any fixed

order or work for any length of time on one thing. Except for the very

youngest children, who do only the very simplest exercises, pupils

are at liberty to work at any one they wish and for as long as they

wish. Montessori believes that the child will turn naturally to the

exercise he is ready for. The materials to develop the sense of touch

are among the simplest. There are small boards with strips of sandpaper

running from the roughest to the smoothest, and pieces of different

kinds of cloth; these the child rubs his hands over while his eyes are

blindfolded, distinguishing the differences. The appliances designed

to teach the child to distinguish differences of form and size use the

sense of touch as a strong aid to sight. There are blocks of wood with

holes of different diameters and depths, and cylinders to fit each

hole. The child takes all the cylinders out, rubs his fingers around

their edge and then around the rim of the holes and puts them back

in the proper hole. The ability to judge of size is also exercised

by giving the child a set of graduated wooden blocks with which he

builds a tower, and another set which he may use to make a stair. The

power to distinguish form is developed by wooden insets of all shapes

which fit into holes in a thin board. The child takes out the insets,

feels of them and then replaces them. Later the teacher tells him the

geometrical name of each form while he is touching it, and then has him

distinguish them by name.

There are sets of cardboard forms to correspond to the wooden ones,

and metal plaques where the form appears as a hole in the center of

the plaque. These are used in games which consist in matching the same

form in the different materials, and for drawing the form in outline on

paper to be filed in with colored pencils.

The method of teaching reading and writing uses the sense of touch to

reënforce the lesson the pupil gets through the eye and ear. Sandpaper

alphabets with each letter pasted on a square of cardboard are given a

child. He rubs his finger over these as if he were writing and makes

the sound of the letter as he rubs. Movable letters are used only after

the child is familiar with the letters by touch, and with them he makes

words. Writing usually precedes reading when children learn in this

way; when they take pencil or chalk, they are able to trace the letters

with very little difficulty because the muscles as well as the eye are

familiar with the forms.

The sense of hearing is exercised by means of two sets of bells, one

fixed to give the scale, the other movable, so that the child can make

his own scale by comparing with the fixed scale. The children play a

number of games where they are as quiet as possible, acting out simple,

whispered directions from the teacher. There is as well a series of

rattles filled with sand, gravel, and grains, and the game is to guess

which rattle is being shaken. The sense of color is developed in the

same way by means of specially arranged apparatus. This consists of

small tablets wound with colored silks in all colors and shades, which

are used in many different ways, according to the age and skill of the

pupil. The youngest learn to distinguish two or three colors and to

tell dark from light shades. The older pupils who are familiar with the

colors acquire enough skill in their manipulation to be able to glance

at one tablet and then go to the other side of the room and bring

either an exact match or the next shade lighter or darker, according to

what the teacher has asked for.

Muscular development is provided for by giving the children plenty of

time during the school day to run and play, and by means of apparatus

for free gymnastics, while the finer coördinating muscles are being

constantly exercised while the child is manipulating the appliances for

sense training. The faculty of speech is trained by having the children

practice the pronunciation of words and syllables. The fundamental

conceptions of number are taught much as are reading and writing.

Besides the sandpaper numbers and the plain cardboard ones, there is

a series of wooden bars varying in length from one to ten meters,

which the children use in connection with numbers in learning the

combinations up to ten.

The foregoing description of the didactic material is very brief

and general and omits many of the uses of the appliances as well

as reference to some of the less used material, but it serves to

illustrate the nature and purpose of the work done by the children.

Pupils acquire a marked skill in the handling of the material which

appeals especially to them, and children of four and five learn to

write with very little effort. In fact, Madame Montessori believes

that the average child is ready for many of the ideas which he usually

does not get until his sixth year at an earlier age, when they can be

acquired more easily; and that a system such as hers which allows the

child to perform one set of acts at the time when he is ready for it

saves him a great deal of time later on, besides giving a more perfect

result than could then be achieved.

Each piece of material is designed to train singly one specific sense

through the performance of one set of fixed acts. Consequently if

liberty is confounded with doing as one pleases, this method must

appear very strict. Liberty is found in the use the children make of

material. The amount of freedom the pupils are allowed in the classroom

has already been described, and the rôle of the teacher is made to

correspond with this liberty. She is trained not to interfere with any

spontaneous activity of the child and never to force his attention

where it is not given naturally. When a child has turned of his own

accord to a certain apparatus the teacher may show him the proper use

of it; or in rare cases she may try to direct the child’s attention to

a different type of work if he seems inclined to concentrate to excess

on one thing, but if she fails she never insists. In fact nothing is

done by the teacher to call the child’s attention to his weaknesses

and failures, or to arouse any negative associations in his mind.

Madame Montessori says, “If he [the child] makes a mistake, the teacher

must not correct him, but must suspend her lesson to take it up again

another day. Indeed, why correct him? If the child has not succeeded

in associating the name with the object, the only way in which to

succeed would be to repeat both the action of the sense stimuli and

the name; in other words, to repeat the lesson. But when the child has

failed, we should know that he was not at that instant ready for the

physic associations which we wished to provoke in him, and we must

therefore choose another moment. If we should say, in correcting the

child, ‘No, you have made a mistake,’ all these words, which, being

in the form of a reproof, would strike him more forcibly than others,

would remain in the mind of the child, retarding the learning of the

names. On the contrary, the silence which follows the error leaves the

field of consciousness clear, and the next lesson may successfully

follow the first.”

The simplicity and passivity of the teachers’ rôle are increased by

the nature of the didactic material. Once the child has been taught

the nomenclature connected with the apparatus, the teacher ceases to

teach. She becomes merely an observer as far as that pupil is concerned

until he is ready to move on to another appliance. This is possible

because of what Montessori calls the “self-corrective” nature of her

material. That is, each thing is arranged so that the child can do

but one complete thing with it, so that if he makes a mistake the

apparatus does not work. Thus a child working with any one thing does

not have to be told when he makes a mistake how to correct it. He is

confronted with an obvious problem, which is solved by his own handling

of the material. The child is educating himself in that he sees his own

mistakes and corrects them, and the finished result is perfect; partial

success or failure is not possible.

Take the simplest piece of material, the block of wood in which solid

cylinders are set. There are ten of these cylinders, each varying,

say, in length about a quarter of an inch from the one next it. The

child takes all these cylinders from their proper holes and mixes

them up; then he puts them back in their right places again. If he

puts a cylinder in a hole too deep for it, it disappears; if the

hole is too shallow it sticks up too far, while if every cylinder is

put in its proper hole, the child has a solid block of wood again.

All the geometrical insets are self-corrective in exactly the same

way. Even the youngest child would know whether he had succeeded

with the button and lacing frames. The tower blocks will not pile up

into a tower unless the child piles them one on top of the other in

decreasing sizes, nor will the stair blocks make a stair unless they

are laid side by side according to the same principle. In using the

color tablets the child needs rather more preparation; but when he has

learned to distinguish the eight different shades of one of the eight

colors, he is ready to arrange them so that they blend from dark to

light, and if he makes a mistake the tablet placed in wrong sequence

will appear to him as an inharmonious blot. Once the pupil gets the

idea with one color he is able to work it out for himself for the

other seven. Since the pupils are never allowed merely to play with

an apparatus, it becomes associated in his mind with performing the

right set of actions, so a misstep appears to him as something to be

undone, something calling for another trial. The educational purpose

Montessori aims to serve in making her material self-corrective, is

that of leading the child to concentrate upon the differences in the

parts of the appliances he is working with; that is, in trying for the

fixed end he has to compare and discriminate between two colors, two

sounds, two dimensions, etc. It is in making these comparisons that the

intellectual value of training the senses lies. The particular faculty

or sense that the child is exercising in using any one apparatus is

sharpened by concentration upon the _relations_ between the things.

Sense-development of an intellectual character comes from the growth

of this power of the sense organ to compare and discriminate, not from

teaching the child to recognize dimensions, sounds, colors, etc., nor

yet from simply going through certain motions without making a mistake.

Montessori claims that intellectual result differentiates her work from

the appliances of the kindergarten.

As we said above, the difference between the Montessori method and the

views of American reformers lies not in a difference of opinion as to

the value of liberty, but rather in a different conception of the best

use to be made of it. Physically the pupils of a Montessori class are

freer than they are in the classes of most American educators with

whose views this book has been dealing; intellectually they are not

so free. They can come and go, work and be idle, talk and move about

quite voluntarily; getting information about things and acquiring skill

in movement are the ends secured. Each pupil works independently on

material that is self-corrective. But there is no freedom allowed the

child to create. He is free to choose which apparatus he will use, but

never to choose his own ends, never to bend a material to his own

plans. For the material is limited to a fixed number of things which

must be handled in a certain way. Most American educators think that

the training of the pupil to habits of right thinking and judgment

is best accomplished by means of material which presents to him real

problems, and they think that the measure of reality is found in

connection with the experiences of life out of school. The big thing

that children have to learn is twofold; for their adjustment to the

world in which they find themselves involves relations to people and

to things. Adjustment means not simply the ability to control their

bodies, but an intellectual adjustment as well, an ability to see the

relations between things, to look behind their surface and perceive

their meaning not alone to the individual, but to the community as

well. “The best way of making sure that children learn this double

adjustment is,” says the American school-teacher, “to give them work

which represents truly the conditions they have to deal with out of

school.”

[Illustration: Solving problems in school as they would have to be met

out of school.

(Francis Parker School, Chicago.)]

Outside the classroom the child is constantly having to bend material

things to his own needs, and to satisfy the demands that are made

upon him because he lives with other people. If he is to accomplish

this successfully for himself and others it is important that he

learn to see things as they are; that he be able to use his senses

accurately to understand the meaning that things and people have to and

for him as a member of society. Hence the need of freedom to meet and

solve these problems in school, much as one has to do out of school.

Madame Montessori, on the other hand, believes that the technique of

living can best be learned by the child through situations that are

not typical of social life, but which have been arranged in order

to exercise some special sense so as to develop the faculties of

discrimination and comparison.

The difference of opinion resolves itself into the acceptance of

different views of the nature of the human intelligence. Montessori,

in common with the older psychologists, believes that people have

ready-made faculties which can be trained and developed for general

purposes, regardless of whether the acts by which they are exercised

have any meaning other than the training they afford. The child is born

with undeveloped faculties which can be made to blossom by suitable

appliances, and then devoted at will to other uses. Most educators in

this country agree with the newer psychological theories that skill

can not be achieved independently of the tools used and the object

fashioned in the accomplishment of a special end. Exercises which

distinguish for the child the abstract qualities like length and color,

regardless of the things of which they are qualities, may give the

child great skill in performing the special exercise, but will not

necessarily result in making him more successful in dealing with these

qualities as they appear as factors in the situations of life. Much

less will they train powers of comparing and discriminating at large

so that they may be transferred to any use. A child is not born with

faculties to be unfolded, but with special impulses of action to be

developed through their use in preserving and perfecting life in the

social and physical conditions under which it goes on.

If, accordingly, the child in an American progressive school does

not usually have as much freedom of moving about and of choice of

his time for doing work, the explanation does not consist in a less

degree of belief in the value of liberty. The emphasis falls on the

larger freedom of using and testing senses and judgment in situations

typical of life. Because these situations are social, they require

that children work more together in common pursuits; because they are

social they permit and often require the teacher’s aid, just as one

gains assistance from others in the ordinary affairs of life. Help from

others is not to be feared as an encroachment upon liberty, but that

kind of help which restricts the use of the children’s own intelligence

in forming ends and using ingenuity, initiative and inventiveness in

the selection and adaption of materials. The limitation of material to

performing exercises calculated to train an isolated sense--a situation

that never presents itself in life--seems to the American teacher a

greater limitation of freedom than that which arises from the need of

coöperation with others in the performance of common activities. It

is desirable not merely that the child should learn not to interfere

with others as they execute their own ends, but also that he should

learn to work with them in an intelligent way. Hence the scope of the

material should not be limited to training the discriminations and

comparisons of a single sense (however valuable this may be with very

young children who are incapable of coöperative activity and whose

main business is to master the use of their organs),[A] but should

be varied enough to offer typical problems calling for the kind of

comparison and discrimination used in ordinary life-situations. And

when pupils are making real things for real uses, or finding out

about the activities and materials of out-of-school life, several

children need to work at the same thing and keep at one thing with some

consecutiveness.

[A] It is significant that many who have experimented with

the apparatus hold that its value is greatest with quite

young children--three and four years old.

But if the educators of this country differ with Montessori as to

the existence of innate faculties which can be trained for general

application by special exercises designed only for training and not

for the accomplishment of results in which training is incidental,

they welcome her efforts to secure that degree of freedom in the

schoolroom which will enable teachers to become acquainted with the

real powers and interests of the child and thus secure the data for

a scientific method in education. They appreciate the force of her

point that artificial conditions of restraint prevent teachers from

getting true knowledge of the material with which they are dealing, so

that instruction is limited to repetition of traditional processes.

They perceive that her insistence upon touch associated with muscular

movement as a factor in learning to write and read, is a real

contribution to the technique of elementary instruction. She has become

a most important factor in the popularizing of the gospel of liberty

as indispensable to any true education.

With a wider understanding of the meaning of intellectual and moral

freedom, and the accompanying breakdown of the negative and coercive

ideas of discipline, the chief obstacle to the use of the teacher’s

own powers of observation and experimentation will disappear. The

scientific interest which requires personal observation, reflection,

and experimental activity, will be added to the teacher’s sympathetic

interest in the welfare of children. Education that associates learning

with doing will replace the passive education of imparting the learning

of others. However well the latter is adapted to feudal societies, in

which most individuals are expected to submit constantly and docilely

to the authority of superiors, an education which proceeds on this

basis is inconsistent with a democratic society where initiative and

independence are the rule and where every citizen is supposed to take

part in the conduct of affairs of common interest. It is significant of

the wide-reaching development of the democratic spirit that the voice

most influentially identified at the present time with the ideal of

liberty in education should sound forth from Italy.

Schools of to-morrow · 第 6 / 11 章