Prolific

This is the only adjective to describe Emily's incredible writing. On more than one occasion she has taken all of our scrap paper cut for shopping lists and gone through the whole pile writing notes, warnings, signs, names and then taping them on the walls around the house. A few of my favorites have been a warning message to Norte: "No me comas los juguetes" (don't eat my toys) hung strategically at his eye level in the corner where his water bowl is; and another made for her mamá whose been having lower back pain recently: "Mamá, me siento triste cuando te duela la sintura (sic)". This was accompanied by a picture of a person with little lines shooting from around its waist and exclaiming: "¡Au! Me duele la sintura." (Mama, I feel sad when your back hurts.) 

She writes in my agenda, she writes on her chalk board and on the white board in the kitchen. Thankfully, she is beyond the age of writing on the walls! She writes labels on her pictures, and even notes of apology. When we had a small gathering of friends at the house, she wrote up the house rules and hung them by the door just to be sure everyone saw them. She went through a phase of showering me with written affection upon my return from work. My favorite was a paper on which she had taped a leaf. When she gave it to me, she asked me to lift up the leaf. Underneath she had written the following message: "Wen the last leef fols yoo wil bee may momy forevr." Translation for those of you, less skilled in phonetic reading: When the last leaf falls, you will be my mommy forever. So you can see, she's definitely got a poetic streak coming through. And most recently she wrote a wonderful story stapled as a book. 

It is thrilling to watch her obvious pleasure as she dives head first into this new form of self-expression. María Montessori described this phase as the writing "explosion" and I must say, that this is certainly the case for Emily. I was a little concerned this past summer, when she was barely able to crudely write some simple phonetic words in Spanish. She didn't show much interest in writing at all and her handwriting left much to be desired. She had been exposed to all of the letters and letter sounds through her school in Granada, but was never interested in much more than writing her own name. During the quarantine, probably mid-April, she wrote her first word with no assistance: "California". It was a picture she'd drawn of of the bar and she put the name on the outside. Angelines and I were shocked by how without prompting or apparant "teaching" she had written this all on her own and with actually quite good handwriting--a mix of cursive and printing. 

Montessori claims that young children (0-6) absorb their environment rather than actually being receptive to "active" teaching. This is why proper modeling is so important for babies, toddlers and preschoolers. Adults most often learn by listening and reading; observation and action usually take a second plane. This is partially because adults have moved on to learning more abstract concepts. Our brains are different. Montessori argued that reading and writing were just as natural for a child to learn as walking or talking, so long as they were provided with an environment rich in stimuli and opportunities to observe and practice. A baby in normal circumstances will walk and talk without any instruction other than the daily interaction with the adults around her. To Angelines and me it seemed like magic when she wrote that first word, but the reality is there were years of observation and practice beforehand. 

It is extremely gratifying to see how her writing is blosoming now and know that she is experiencing this new endeavor as real self expression rather than an imposed external necessity. It is true that in her new school she is required to do a lot of copying and in the beginning it was very hard for her to accept that obligation versus the invitation to work that she had become accostomed to. I was worried that the change of pedagogy/methodology would throw her off track or suddenly make her an unwilling student. I know that a large part of her resillience and persistent curiosity is obviously fostered at home; but it was also the time she spent from 3-5 in an environment that respected her and her personal developmental rhythms, with teachers who genuinely loved her and showed her as much every day that has made this breakthrough into literacy and life-long learning possible. Our time in Granada was stressful on many levels, but when I see the little person she is becoming and the way in which she takes on new challenges, I feel vindicated for the sacrifices we made. It is true that she can still be very reluctant to do homework, but I don't push. She does it in her own time. How can I justify forcing her to sit down with a school book when it is so incredibly evident that she is learning and beyond that, thriving?

The title of her book: Story of the Really Pretty Castle.

In a really pretty place there lived a really pretty castle and in that castle there lived a really pretty princess.

which (the princess) had a unicorn that was surrounded of magic and hearts and when she rode it her dress of silky pink it swirled around her.

She's written part of the lyrics of the anthem of Andalucía.  Feb 28th was Andalucía Day.  In big writing: Somos Andaluces "We are Andalusians".  The three figures are us, obviously. ;)

This is the story of Swan Lake: Sigfried falls in love with a pricess but one bad man named Rothbart threw Sigfried in the lake.  He called the swans.  The swans saved him. :)

"Zoom, the horse went.  Cowgirl rat Emily zoomed instructions.  She is a cowgirl.  The police choosed her to study cowgirl."  The policeman in the right hand corner is saying, "You should study cowgirl!"

This is the cowgirl rat in action! ;)

A little note she left me one day before school.

A birthday message for her cousin. "Cumpleaños feliz, cumpleaños feliz.  Te deseamos un cumpleaños con paz y corazón.  Te queremos toda la familia.  De Emily"
Happy birthday, happy birthday.  We wish you a birthday with peace and heart.  We love you, the whole family.  From Emily.