Help Me to Help Myself: Part 1 of 3
March 1, 2016

Independence in the First Plane of Development


In this article we are going to talk about the child’s plea for help in achieving independence in the First Plane, the years from birth to six. This of course means physical independence: independence in the here and now, the present world of time and space, in the world that we see and touch. As always in Montessori we want to keep in mind where the child is going next so that we are helping the child build a strong foundation for the succeeding plane. In this case: childhood’s “age of reason” and the Second Plane, the years of 6 through 12. The child now asks of us “help me to think my own thoughts.”


Recognizing this succeeding need helps us to understand that the child’s ultimate goal in independence is actually a spiritual one. It is the human spirit within the child that asks of us “help me to help myself” from birth to six and “help me to think my own thoughts” from six to twelve.” This ultimate need of the child reminds us that we want always to see the child before us, to look deeply into his or her eyes, human spirit to human spirit, “subject to subject,” recognizing and respecting that this is a unique human being never created before and never to be created again in all of human history – past, present or future. This incredible mystery, and the awe it calls forth, is the basis of our loving interactions with our child. It is in these moments of awe that we find the answers for how to help our children to eventual independence from us, both in the physical world and in the abstract world of ideas, reason and imagination. These answers are far more likely to be based in our own intuitive observations of our children than in the many “how to” books of our current day, helpful as some of them may be.


I was fortunate to have just such an opportunity for intuitive observation of children in the early 1960’s. It was this experience that led to my initial attraction to Montessori’s ideas of education and an understanding of the importance of independence in early childhood. I was a young mother of four children under the age of six– and in my twenties in the late 1950’s – when suddenly I found myself totally overwhelmed by the very life I had dreamed of having since childhood. How could this have happened? I was in complete shock. I knew how hard my parents had tried to be the best of parents, and I had done everything that was asked of me from good grades in school to social expectations. What could have gone wrong? Hence, began a long journey of self-reflection and understanding.


The opportunity to see Montessori’s approach to independence for children in action was a key part of that learning process. I was able to witness for a full school year the opening of a Montessori classroom for three to five year olds taught by an experienced teacher who happened to be in France just before the outbreak of World War II and had attended lectures there by Dr. Montessori herself. Miraculously, I saw these little children choosing their own work, putting it back, calmly and peacefully going about their uninterrupted morning with minimal adult direction.


Subsequently, I learned that visitors from all over the world had come to Rome from 1907 to 1913 to see Dr. Montessori’s original classes of young children, first with children of poor and illiterate parents but almost immediately with children from wealthy homes as well. These visitors reported their astonishment as they watched these children quietly choosing their own work, being kind and helpful to each other, and above all, calm and at peace whether: gardening, preparing hot lunch, serving each other with tureens of soup, and even learning to combine sounds and letters, numbers and one to one counting, thus becoming literate and numerate all by age six or seven.


Even more amazing, in these early classes in Rome--as in the classes I eventually observed in Cincinnati, Ohio in the early 1960’s--the children’s willingness to struggle, their self-motivation and energy when dealing with mistakes and accidents, their matter of fact attitude about them, their lack of dismay or discouragement, universally impressed those who came to see them. By 1913 Montessori had published her first book on what came to be called the Montessori Method and established her first International Training Course in Rome with participants coming from over thirty countries.

Visitors to our classes at Forest Bluff School today see the same phenomena as in those early days and ask the same universal question of those first visitors: “But how do the children know what to do?” We have come full circle to the young child’s plea, “Help me to help myself ” and the older child’s plea “Help me to think for myself.” The goal of our Parent Child and Continuing Education Series for parents is, in part, to help our parents at home to meet these needs of their children for eventual independent action and independent thought in their lives as adults.


Printable PDF of this post
A young child outside on a sunny day using a watering can to water potted herbs and flowers
By Margaret J. Kelley April 20, 2026
Forest Bluff School in Lake Bluff, IL, explores how the Montessori philosophy helps families trade "crippling empathy" and anxiety for a productive, grounded optimism.
A teacher and Montessori student at Forest Bluff School in Lake Bluff, IL, shake hands.
By Alice Davidson with contributions by Margaret J. Kelley February 25, 2026
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.