Happy Friday, everyone.
If a prospective parent were to stop and ask what makes Guidepost’s Montessori approach different from other childcare options or from other types of education, how would we answer? What are we doing that no one else is doing?
We are asked this question, either in a big, direct way or in small, subtle ways, each time a family comes to tour one of our schools. Parents rightly want to know the answer as part of their assessment of whether we are right for their child.
I’ve been thinking about this question in my work supporting admissions. I’ve noticed that often, a family experiences the myriad options out there, including us, as a grab-bag of essentially interchangeable features, and they form an impressionistic assessment of “quality” on that basis.
Maybe they like how we support toddler independence and concentration... but they also like another daycare’s emphasis on arts & crafts and unstructured play time. Maybe they think our capstone kindergarten year is impressive—with its explosion of reading, advanced math, and opportunity for leadership—but they also like that the local public school will allow their child to ride the school bus and meet other children in the neighborhood.
They are comparing features, but don’t always form an overarching answer to the question: who are you? They see merely a list of pros and cons, not a fundamental difference in approach. As a result, their choice feels a bit reactive no matter which direction they go. They do their best to clarify what they happen to resonate with, what they’re most familiar and comfortable with, or what others they respect have chosen. And so, even when a family chooses Guidepost, parents often make the choice tentatively, with a wait and see attitude rather than a sense of conviction about their decision to partner with us.
What strikes me is that the reality is the opposite: we don’t offer merely a grab-bag of interchangeable features. To the contrary, we have a totally integrated approach. Everything we do is connected; every piece is crucial, such that missing out on one means risking losing the whole thing. A family leaving for their child’s kindergarten year, for instance, is like pausing a song before you get to the chorus or stopping a movie before reaching the climax and conclusion.
Our job is to help make clear that there is an overarching answer to what makes us different. All the features both express and add up to a definite approach.
The thing that we uniquely do, the thing that makes us who we are, that explains and connects every decision we make and every organizational value we hold is this: we support development—healthy human development—consistently, ruthlessly, in all its aspects, across the whole arc of growth from infancy to adulthood, and with every degree of the dignity, grandeur, and ardor that such a goal deserves.
We all know that we trivialize ourselves by thinking we’re just a better kind of daycare. But I think we diminish our worth even when we think we are just a better kind of school. We’re not. We are something distinct, something emergent that sees education as an expression of a broader approach to parenting for independence, an approach that was made possible only by Montessori’s monumental discovery and thought: a center for healthy human development.
We are an organization that approaches development thoughtfully, scientifically, and rigorously. A place where the coach, the guide, and the scientist come together for the common cause of supporting the developing child—where we observe each child, understand her needs, and design every detail to make her growth unstoppable, uncrippled, and unparalleled.
How does this shape and unify everything we do and believe? Let’s look at a couple key themes.
1. The normal-as-in-healthy adult
To support healthy human development, we have a vision of the end goal: of a normal-as-in-healthy adult. We have a view, an increasingly clear view, of the kind of adult we’re helping each child create for themselves—the quality of their character, the state of their knowledge, their efficacy in navigating the world, and their resulting sense of self-esteem and rapport with others.
And to achieve this new normal, we have analogues for every stage of life. We have a map that shows the milestones we must support, and a clear vision of how they all add up and work together to support that goal.
Because development doesn’t start in adulthood, or even at 5 or 6 when school typically starts, we have a view, not just of a normal-as-in-healthy adult, but the normal-as-in-healthy infant, toddler, teenager. We can see how the 4-week-old concentrating for a few minutes on an engaging mobile, can seamlessly translate to the preschooler concentrating for an hour while reading his first books, to the elementary student who concentrates for weeks while planning a research project, to the adult who can look out at the full scope of his life and define a plan to set and achieve all the ambitious goals he sets for himself.
As a center for healthy human development, we not only have an understanding of our goal, but we also have a map and a plan for how to get there and how to navigate each unique stage:
A culture of knowledge, work, and humanism
Knowing the healthy adult that we are trying to help create, we also want to emphasize the core environment that we believe enables a child to develop into such an adult. We want parents to see—and to choose us—because they agree with our approach to supporting healthy human development.
What type of school will equip and enable a person to succeed—in academics, in a career, in achieving a quality character, in pursuing rewarding friendships and relationships, and in life as a whole?
Our answer is: a culture of knowledge, of work, and of humanism.
A culture of knowledge is one that is centered on the pursuit of clarity, on fearless truth-seeking and questioning and clarifying. A culture of work is one that valorizes purposeful activity, that celebrates being pro-effort and that cherishes and protects voluntary, self-directed intentionality and concentration. A culture of humanism is one that engenders a love of humanity, an appreciation of the value of collaboration with others on harmonious quests, and a joy in celebrating one’s own achievements, those of one’s peers, and of all those throughout history and today. These are our lanterns, our guiding lights for every decision we make to help children develop and flourish, now and throughout life.
When we’re clear in our own minds that we’re a center supporting development, then we can give parents a clear answer to why they should be here. They don’t have to feel hesitant. They don't have to feel like choosing is a flip of the coin. They can see that what we’re doing is on a completely different plane from their other options—and then decide to be with us from a place of conviction.
And for our own part, when we’re clear about who we are, then in the height of battle or when inundated with the day-to-day, we never risk losing sight of the nobility of our mission, our fervor for continuous improvement, or the grit and endurance we need when we must overcome challenges. We, like the children we support, act in pursuit and in service of human lives fully lived.
Have a great weekend,
Samantha Blaisdell
Editor
What an inspiring article! Thank you for articulating Guidepost Montessori's vision so clearly.