Dealing with Issues & Challenges

Forest Bluff School in Lake Bluff, IL, explores how the Montessori philosophy helps families trade "crippling empathy" and anxiety for a productive, grounded optimism.

In Montessori education, we view each child as inherently capable of developing a strong sense of right and wrong. A child’s moral compass is not something we impose upon them—it is something that grows within, guided by experiences, reflection, and consistent modeling from the adults in their lives. For that moral sense to take root, children must be allowed to experience accountability for their actions. When parents shield their children from consequences or defend behavior they know is wrong, they unintentionally undermine that process, creating confusion and instability in the child’s understanding of truth, fairness, and responsibility. Many parents defend their children out of love and protectiveness. They wish to spare their child from discomfort, embarrassment, or the feeling of failure. Yet this kind of protection, though well-intentioned, teaches the opposite of what true love demands. One of the tenets of Montessori is to put children in contact with the real world in age-appropriate ways, trusting that they have the inner capabilities to grow and adapt when they have real experiences. When parents constantly justify, minimize, or excuse poor behavior, a child misses an opportunity for feedback; they learn that honesty is flexible and that integrity can be negotiated. This erodes their moral foundation and leaves them uncertain about what is right—not because they cannot feel it, but because the adults they trust most are contradicting that inner voice. In Montessori, children learn to do work and make decisions based on intrinsic, not extrinsic motivation. We trust that they have goodness inside of them, and while they absolutely need guardrails and guidelines, we can best serve them by teaching them to distinguish between their internal drives, and to take action in accordance with their conscience. Children are perceptive. They often know when they have done something wrong—whether they spoke unkindly, acted selfishly, or disrespected another. When their parents immediately defend them or blame others, the child experiences an internal conflict. On one hand, their conscience tells them they made a mistake; on the other, the parent’s response tells them they are in the right. Over time, this mismatch between inner truth and external validation creates confusion. The child begins to question their own moral instincts and may even learn to ignore the pangs of conscience altogether, relying instead on external approval to define what is acceptable. This is one of the greatest harms of over-defending a child: it separates them from their natural moral compass. When children are consistently told they are right—even when they know they are not—they start to equate love with being defended rather than being guided. They may learn that relationships are maintained through justification and blame-shifting instead of honesty and repair. Later in life, these patterns can manifest as difficulty accepting feedback, resistance to authority, or an inability to take responsibility in personal and professional relationships. In Montessori classrooms, we see accountability as a cornerstone of growth. When a child makes a mistake—perhaps they take another’s materials without asking or speak rudely to a classmate—we respond not with shame, but with calm guidance. We help the child reflect: What happened? How did this affect others? What can you do to make it right? This process nurtures empathy and clarity. It helps children see that they can correct their mistakes, that doing wrong does not make them bad, and that making amends restores both harmony and self-respect. Accepting that your child can be wrong is not a sign of parental failure—it is a sign of courage and wisdom. When you model accountability yourself, your child learns that truth is not something to be feared. They see that mistakes are part of being human, and that integrity means facing them with grace. Ultimately, allowing your child to experience and accept the consequences of their behavior builds confidence, empathy, and moral clarity. Shielding them from accountability may protect their feelings in the short term, but it confuses their conscience and weakens their inner sense of right and wrong. By guiding them lovingly toward truth and responsibility, you empower them to grow into kind, honest, and self-aware individuals—qualities that form the true foundation of a moral life.

If you’ve been at a playground with young children, you’ve probably heard parents imploring their children: “You need to share!” At best, a child will hand over the toy, with a look of confusion or sadness on their face. At worst (and probably more frequently), they will cling even more tightly to the toy, resulting in a tantrum or a battle of the wills. These scenes play out on playgrounds, in sandboxes, and in homes across the world. It’s a natural and well-intentioned impulse on the part of the parents, who want their children to grow up with prosocial tendencies, and an ability to think about others and make friends. However, it is also a natural and well-intentioned impulse on the part of the child to hang on to their toys. Children don’t consciously have the same long-term goals as their parents, of course, but they are following a strong internal guide, which does ultimately want what’s best for them. A child under the age of six is “selfish” by necessity. In order to grow up to be an adult who is able to think about others and make friends, they must first go through this phase of development, where they will think almost entirely about themselves. Planes of Development Dr. Maria Montessori saw development as spanning four distinct planes: 0-6 years, 6-12, 12-18, and 18-24. Not until age 24 is a person’s brain fully developed. At this point they are considered a complete adult. Modern brain research supports Dr. Montessori’s observation, confirming that rapid brain development ends around age 25. For the purposes of this article, we will only delve deeply into this first plane—a young child, between the ages of 0 and 6 years. This is an inherently and essentially “selfish” plane. During this phase, children are entirely focused on becoming functioning people, who can walk, eat, communicate, and begin to think independently. Just imagine the tremendous changes that take place between a newborn and a six year old! A newborn can barely hold up their head and can only nourish themselves when their food source is placed right next to their mouth. A six-year-old can run, swim, bike, climb a tree, make themselves a sandwich, and tell you what happened last summer. The acquisitions that occur in the first plane of development are nothing short of miraculous. Their brains and being are focused on this extraordinary work. Given this perspective, the self-absorption of their work and understanding of the world is necessary and understandable. During these years, they aren’t meant to be thinking about others. They are meant to be employing their mental and physical efforts for their own development. The Montessori Classroom If you walk into a Montessori Young Children’s Community (for 1.5–3-year-olds) or Primary (for 3–6-year-olds), you will see how these individual needs are reflected in the classroom. The tables are designed for one child, the materials themselves are almost all designed for one child to use at a time, and most children will be working quietly and on their own. This is how they learn and develop. They need to be able to concentrate by themselves, and follow their own interests and impulses with the materials. They are not ready to incorporate other’s needs and desires into their work. Dr. Montessori observed that a child before the age of 6 is a distinct being from a child after the age of 6. A young child needs individual freedom to work and explore with activities, unencumbered from the opinions and agendas of their peers. After the age of 6, they become a much more social being. In the elementary classroom, you will notice that the tables seat four, and most materials are designed for groups of children. At this age, social activity motivates them to work. It is a very different plane from the younger child! Theory of Mind Modern research supports Dr. Montessori’s claim. Theory of Mind refers to a person’s ability to understand someone else’s perspective. This includes grasping something as concrete as another person’s visual field, as well as the abstractions of other people’s emotions, desires, and motivations. While Theory of Mind starts in the preschool years, the second order of Theory of Mind does not begin until after the age of 6, when children start to be able to predict what someone else is thinking or feeling, or will think or feel, given a certain set of circumstances. These are very sophisticated abilities! We do not need to worry or feel alarmed if our young children do not yet grasp their friend’s perspective. They are not hanging onto their toys because they do not want their friends to be happy. They are hanging on to their toys because they want to play, and they are developmentally unable to understand their friend’s point of view. This cannot be forced. Why Do We Care About Sharing? It can be tempting to think that we will teach our children to share by asking (or insisting). But perhaps the important question is - Why do I want my child to share? Is it because I want them to learn to think about others? Make friends? Be selfless? These are all important and useful values for a meaningful life, but taking a moment to consider where a young child is developmentally can help us to understand how to actually support them in their journey towards being a prosocial person with emotional intelligence and a selfless nature. A child who is resisting sharing isn’t resisting becoming a good adult. They are simply following the natural course of their development. These young years are a time for them to be thinking about their own needs. It is a necessity for them. In fact, demanding that they give away their toys while they are playing with them can have the unintended consequence of them becoming even more possessive with their things, or becoming apathetic, suppressing their positive natural urges for concentration and exploration. So What Do We Do? One way to verbalize a socially acceptable way of sharing resources is to state to your child, “You are having your turn. You may use it as long as you like. When you are finished, Amelia would like a turn.” Then inform Amelia, “You may have a turn when Teddy is finished. When it is your turn, you may use it for as long as you like.” This gives children words for how something might be shared between friends, giving them space to utilize the toy, and granting them both respect for their desires. And if a child continues to use the toy until the playtime is over, you can tell their friend, “Next time you will be able to use the toy.” There do not need to be any guarantees today. If a child is becoming emotional about wanting to use a toy, and fixating upon it, then try to distract them with something else. Sometimes this means that they need to physically move somewhere else. It is natural to feel that the most interesting toy is the toy that is in someone else’s hands! Removing your own emotional charge from the situation can help both children feel calm. The Caveats While we believe that a young child is rightly focused on their individual development, and should not be forced to share, it is extremely important to note that this does not mean that they are allowed free reign of any environment. In the classroom, we say that a child’s rights end where another child’s rights begin. This philosophy applies outside of the classroom, too. Children may not take someone else’s work. They may not disturb, distract, or destroy someone else’s work. They must abide by the routines of the day, and the expectations of their family and community - both for their safety, and for (a reasonable level of) peace and harmony. You are the adult. You are in charge. Other people’s emotions and thoughts matter. Protecting your child’s individual development does not mean they can trample on someone else’s. Final Thoughts At this age, not sharing is not a moral issue. It is developmental. Your child is following important and natural urges when they resist giving away their toys. Sharing is a point of arrival. Sharing means that a child feels safe and secure, and that they understand someone else’s perspective. It means they understand how someone else feels and why they want the toy. It means they are motivated to connect with others and want to build and maintain friendships. At best, forcing sharing too early only creates insecurity. At worst, it creates the expectation that you can demand that other people let you play with their toys. Children usually remember and imitate how you treat people more than they remember how you demanded that they treat others! The journey from “selfishness” to selflessness will not happen overnight. It will not happen in six years either. It is a journey that will take all of childhood and beyond. Keep this goal in mind and consider how you can support this value for your child: Patience, grace, and respect for where they are in their own journey.

I know I am not the only person who has re-defined the meaning of the word “essential” during this pandemic—or at least, come to a more nuanced understanding of it. As the world shut down in the spring of 2020, and we were driven to our homes, we called the people who did the work that absolutely had to be done “essential workers.” We wrote signs for garbage truck drivers, we thanked the grocery store cashiers profusely, and we wept with gratitude for the doctors and nurses who courageously showed up day after day in hospitals. Through this experience, we realized what work is truly essential to our daily living. Similarly, we developed a visceral understanding of the word as it applied to our own lives. We experienced how vital, and how fragile, the basic necessities of our world are—food, access to water for hygiene, possibilities for human connection. We experienced many of these as a loss or became aware of how tenuous our access to these essential requirements for healthy living are.  I read recently that one of the gifts of winter is that it strips our lives down to what is essential. Winter lacks abundance, it lacks warmth, it lacks a feeling of limitless possibility. In winter, we remember what matters most, and we focus on and nurture those parts of our lives for the health and bounty of our spirit—no small task during cold, grey days. But the gift of this experience is the reminder of what matters. It is the opportunity to develop our relationship with these essential elements in our lives.

This post was originally published in 2017 and has been updated to include suggestions about how to talk to children about Coronavirus (See final section). Talking to Children About the Uncertainties of Life How do we talk to our children about unfortunate events such as terrorist acts, accidents, natural disasters, epidemics, mental illness, family deaths, divorce, or any surprise or situation that brings disappointment or painful emotions? There is no way to make these conversations easy, and there is no one-size-fits-all solution. But our children need these conversations, and we must be thoughtful with the words we use, knowing that they are watching us closely to learn about living with the uncertainties of life. We actually prepare our children for what may come in life every day—mostly unconsciously, though sometimes consciously—through modeling behaviors, making comments in their presence, or by saying something that gets a conversation started. Adults help children to dig down their roots of beliefs to make them strong, to reach for the sky in their hopes, and to embrace the beautiful cycles all around us. The biggest gift we can give our children is to teach them to embrace and appreciate this life. Most adults can recall moments, conversations, or behaviors they observed as children that helped them shape their own beliefs and attitudes for difficult times. From when I was five to 13 years old, several of the pets on our small farm died, from illness, accident, or old age. I was a big animal lover, so I was attached to each of them. What helped me to deal with such experiences were the hours upon hours that I spent in nature, the supportive community I was raised in, and the numerous little conversations I had with my mother. My mother had a very natural way of talking about life. She was very matter-of-fact about her spiritual beliefs; she prayed out loud and talked to God as if he were right there listening. She didn’t hide her tears or grief. She actually had some dire challenges of her own while I was growing up, and while she certainly did not go overboard by telling me too much, she spoke honestly if I asked questions. The impression she gave me was that hard things happen, that we can all handle them, that we have many resources for facing them, and that we are offered a helping hand by God if we seek it. (God in our family meant the Universe, the Spirits, or the power in Nature—we were free to choose). Through these conversations and my time spent pondering in nature, I created my own ideas about how and why things happen and what we can do to survive them. I wrote stories and thought about life’s mysteries. I found ways to comfort myself with my thoughts. The fact that my mother admitted to the mysteries and demonstrated her strong faith that goodness, truth, and beauty will eventually always triumph over evil gave me that special blend of reality and hope to work with.