This past Wednesday in the Montessori classroom, it was time to make the jumping square.
The jumping square actually holds up rather well through lots of jumping (and mopping), but I peel it away from time to time because then we can add it back.
Kids need to move, and I’m certainly not going to stop them from doing it. Occasionally, someone needs to jump energetically, moreso than the rest of the classroom is equipped to handle, and that’s where the square comes in. Need to jump? Here’s the spot. It’s contained, it’s a distance away so having it as a destination adds some purposeful movement even before the jumping. It may draw another child to join and games may emerge. It takes the least complicated thing and makes it into something more.
If no square at that moment, I invite the child to help me build it. My tone of voice and style of movement convey that something a little bit mysterious is about to happen. I’ve never had anyone turn me down.
We get the tape, take a seat on the floor, and I peel the first piece. I place the corner on the floor and the child helps me to smooth it down. By this time, a crowd may have formed and other children can take a turn. Eventually, finally, jumping can commence.
For the next several weeks, it might be a place to return to. It might call to other kids in other classes (everyone needs to jump from time to time). Eventually, it kind of fades into the woodwork, and when nobody has jumped for a while, I peel it up. And then eventually again, someone could use a jump, and we repeat.
Here’s the point: it would be easier to have the square there all the time. But by letting it come and go and inviting children to be a part of recreating it, I’m building a little bit of reverence around this simple thing.
We can do a lot of things either quickly or specially: cutting strawberries, laying out pairs of socks, sweeping the step. What moments in your family’s regular life invite this kind of pageantry?