Casa dei Bambini: The Origins of Montessori Schools

I finally made it out and about to complete my first "honor's experience". [Hope you're reading this, Kyle! :) ] It was one of my most adventurous excursions thus far, especially since I set out alone.

First of all, it's really hard to figure out where exactly the original "Casa dei Bambini," or "House of Children," actually is located. Googling it, I found some blogs about visiting it without the actual address. Somehow I made it to an Italian Montessori website and discovered that it is in the San Lorenzo area, in the northeast part of the city, at Via dei Marsi, 58. I'm still not exactly sure how I narrowed it down.

That is where most of the information stopped, however! There was no email address and I don't speak enough Italian for a phone conversation. I went into Student Life here at school to see if they could help me out. Of course, I was informed that I am the first student to ever seek out this information. Sitting at the computer with the incredibly helpful ResGrad, we struggled again to Google Casa dei Bambini. Finally, we managed to locate a phone number and he called. In rapid Italian, he asked if it was possible for me, a student at AUR, to visit the preschool. Quickly, I was told that if I showed up on Monday at 12:30pm and asked for Anna Maria, I could have a tour. I left in shock that the visit might actually work!

Mapping a route, I hopped on a bus, took the tram, and finally walked to my destination. I found a discreet building with this small sign outside and entered the courtyard.

Inside, this is what I discovered. I was so excited to have finally made it!

I entered the building and finally found this door of the school. 

When I rang the buzzer, I was greeted by a middle-aged, Italian woman. I introduced myself using my elementary Italian I'd learned the first day of class. 

"Buongiorno, mi chiamo Sarah. Sono studentessa a l'universita americana di Roma. Lei parla inglese?"

[Hello, my name is Sarah. I am a student at the American University of Rome. Do you speak English?]

Though my fingers were crossed, she replied that no, she in fact did not. The adventure continued. I took a deep breath and continued with the Italian I knew. 

"Io studio essere una maestra. Io visito la scuola. Lei e Anna Maria?"

[I am studying to be a teacher. I am visiting the school. Are you Anna Maria?]

Once again, no, she was not Anna Maria. Anna Maria was eating lunch with the students. Kindly, however, the woman invited me in and gave me somewhat of a tour! Speaking as much Italian as I could and attempting to remain sounding a smidge intelligent, I asked some questions and took some photos of the preschool.

[the first classroom]

[the second classroom]

There are about twenty students per class, three to four years old. Their pictures were all hanging on the door for their daily attendance and their artwork was scattered about the adorable, child-sized classrooms. 

[dedication on the wall to Maria Montessori]

Not knowing the word for recess, I managed to ask, "Dove loro giocano?" which I hoped meant, "Where do they play?" She understood what I meant, at least, and took me across the courtyard to their playground. They also have a garden where they grow some of the vegetables they eat for lunch. So cool.

I tried to ask about the school day and year, which I gathered lasts from about 9am-3pm and September through June, just like at home. I tried asking the woman some questions about herself, as well, and learned that she is an assistant at the preschool, has grown kids of her own, and was born and raised in Rome. 

Before I left, I asked one more question: "Posso prendere un foto?" [Can you take a picture?] I had dressed up nicely and been so prepared, and the visit lasted about ten minutes, during which I kept my coat on. But I did it. 

For some reason, I had this vision of Montessori schools as gorgeous, updated buildings full of technology and surrounded by lush gardens and a massive playground. Looking back, this doesn't really make much sense, especially for the original school, started so long ago. The building was so subdued and the classroom simplistic, yet it felt bursting with a happy, independent, positive spirit, even when empty. It just goes to show that the focus really is not what's in a classroom but who's in it. This is so important to me to remember when I have a classroom of my own!

Oh, and I can't forget to mention how incredibly striking it still is that I live and study in Rome. On the way home, my bus passed by the Colosseum.

I am a lucky girl.