I am thinking that the following is a joke with no punchline:

What happens when an early childhood scholar goes to India and tries to find a preschool for her only daughter?

 

Finding a preschool in India is like a race. A race with economic and status-driven repercussions instead of place winners. When we came to Bangalore the first time, almost a year ago (just Sam and I) I visited a few schools. Kangaroo Kids. Kara. EuroKids. Since then, I have seen First Steps, Neev, and many others. Besides Neev (which I will get to in a minute) these schools would be considered unsophisticated and somewhat rote. But here in India they are the Indian version of modernity or as they explain to me what Europeans and NRIs (Indians living abroad and coming back) want in a preschool. But at many of these schools, there are mostly Indian children attending. Most ex-pat children are in only a few concentrated schools. It is an interesting thing to see what others think you want. And its even more interesting to be offered what others think you want and then have a complete breakdown because you are unsure if what they think you want is really or not really what you want. On behalf of America, I am doing some introspection on this.

 

Apparently, we want decoration. The walls are always bright with characters, most often branded ones like Winnie the Pooh and Mickey Mouse. There are always dramatic play areas. Not dressing up areas per se, but mostly areas to pretend you are someone else or an area for puppets. There is always an emphasis on “the child” and about a high adult ratio. Kids drink filtered water, some also given bottled water. Most of the people I talk to mention Montessori, which is to be expected because her influence is culturally embedded in early childhood education here. However, they usually bring up Montessori only to critique it. Preschool directors and tour guides tell me that they use some elements of Montessori but that they are getting away from only doing Montessori. Kids need to be prepared for the best schools and so they need more proper academics. As I listen to these - and they are in the double digits now, I am struck by how becoming modern means abandoning Montessori. A few schools are trying out the Reggio approach. Neev and Kara in particular. Neev’s director has even done a Reggio Emilio study tour and uses many components in her schools. I am left confused by how Montessori symbolizes the old in India while in the US, (pure or official) Montessori is considered progressive, almost leftist. How can the same thing be traditional and progressive at the same time?

 

Preschool begins at 2, not 3. Kindergarten begins at 4, not 5. And real school starts at 6. It all evens out in the end, I think, but the preschool seems to really matter for the primary school. And the primary school matters for the secondary school. And oh how the secondary school matters for the university. The whole thing is overwhelming. Especially for me. As someone in early childhood, I recognize that preschool is a bridge to school. But here it is an indicator of future success. I was not ready for this. Recognizing that this is the case, I became quite competitive and obsessed with finding the right preschool and making sure I wasn’t putting Berkeley at risk. You may be thinking - that is ridiculous. And you may be right - but the point is, I felt extreme pressure to make sure she was in the right place. I had two sleepless nights over it. I didn’t want her to be screwed up by my inability to find the right place. I’m an educator for heaven’s sake!

 

So, it turns out the right place here in Bangalore is Neev. It’s well funded, beautiful, extensive complete with thematic units, art projects, and a great reading curriculum.

Atticus got in for the fall but Berkeley is on the waiting list. I looked everywhere for alternatives and then tried to beg my way in. I felt awful. Actually, I cannot explain how frustrating and debilitating being on the waiting list has been. I felt like the joke was one me: what happens when an early childhood scholar tries to find a preschool for her only daughter? Well, nothing.  

 

It turns out that failure is not so bad. With nothing to lose (I had talked to everyone at the Neev school, brought Berkeley to play with the other children to show them her social skills, etc.) I began looking for smaller, unknown schools using basic Montessori methods. I thought about what Joe (my dissertation advisor) always says: You should really stick to what you know. If Montessori is traditional here, then there had to be people who are doing it very well. And because modernity is trying to get away from the montessori method, expert teachers and schools might be here but be invisible to the american who wants decoration and bottled water and fancy dramatic play areas.

 

So, I started asking all of the Indian (not expat) mothers in the park and friends of friends. I got some recommendations. In the end, I found what I was looking for. A sophisticated, experienced teacher in Montessori with a small, local school and a passion for teaching. Lilly has been a principal and a teacher for almost 20 years. She got sick of driving to work so she opened a preschool (2-6 years) on the second floor of her home. It is called Sattva Montessori.

 

The school itself is small, simple and clean. There are four rooms and a terrace playground with swings, a slide and a sand pit. When Berkeley walked in for the first time, she sighed and said “I like this preschool.” A different reaction than she’s had at the dozen or so schools we have visited. The walls are yellow but without characters and with only simple posters. The first room  is full of Montessori apparatus. The second room is the real world room with a low shelf filled with mismatched dishes and pitchers. And there is a very old computer. The third has puzzles, a make shift puppet theater and a shelf with puzzles and books. The fourth room is mostly empty with a tape player and some larger activity sets.

 

On the first day, Lilly said that Berkeley was emotionally mature. On the second day, she said that she really likes being with the older children. On the third day, she said that Berkeley likes pouring water into cups and likes numbers and likes being included and likes rolling up her mat. On the fourth day, we had a 15 minute conversation about her. I was told that Berkeley wanted to write today but didn’t want to work on letters. Lilly asked her how she was going to write if she didn’t know the letters. Berkeley told her she could do it by herself. Lilly said this was fine - that this was a part of learning to read and write. Lilly told me that she would start with the vowels when Berkeley was interested. “Then she can put consonants on either side and make words easily.” She encouraged me to do this at home. She said that Berkeley really likes to play with others and kept coming to her saying that the other kids wouldn’t play with her. She was waiting for an invitation from the older ones. But Lilly explained to her that she could just join in - no one was going to invite her specifically. “You go where you want to.” She said that Berkeley struggled with this but then found a math activity she liked and then Priana came to join her - one of the older girls. Lilly said that she was happy with the math apparatus but thrilled when someone joined her.

 

Lilly also told me that earlier in the day - some of the kids including Berkeley had gotten into trouble and that Lilly was talking to them about their bad behavior (running too fast or something in one of the rooms) and Berkeley was standing next to Lilly looking around at the kids as if she was Lilly. Then, Priana asked “Berkeley too right?” Yes said Lilly. And Berkeley apparently was shocked. Lilly then talked about how everyone needed to be a little more careful. Lilly laughed as she told the story to me as I’m sure she chuckled when it happened.

 

Having a teacher care about Berkeley has been surprisingly touching. Maybe it is because we are so far away from people who know her. Maybe it is because Lilly seems like she has understood her from the beginning. Maybe it is because I thought I had failed. I realize that if I wasn’t an educator, I probably wouldn’t have put so much pressure on myself. But then again, without some training I wouldn’t have been looking behind the scenes and wouldn’t have found (or recognized) Lilly. Failure can be so sweet sometimes.