How the Work Found Me in Malaysia

“You’re Montessori? So… do you include all children?” I heard that question more than once at the World Forum on Early Care and Education. It wasn’t asked with judgment, but with genuine curiosity, and maybe a little surprise. And I understand why. Montessori is often associated with beauty, order, independence. But inclusion is not always what people see when they think about our work.

My time in Malaysia gave me something deeper than a conference experience. It gave me perspective. Malaysia is a true melting pot of cultures, Chinese, Indian, and Malay, and you feel that everywhere you go. I had the opportunity to walk through Chinatown, spend time in Little India, and sit with families, mostly from Chinese and Malay backgrounds, inside their schools and communities. It made me reflect on how culture lives inside the classroom, not only in traditions or celebrations, but in how people relate, how they respond, and how they understand children.

What made this experience even more meaningful is how it all came together. I had been following Nusaibah’s work for almost a decade, learning from a distance, and unexpectedly she reached out to collaborate on something online right as I was preparing for this trip. At the same time, my connection with Jezmine began through the AMS community, a simple professional connection that slowly grew into something more. None of this was planned in a strategic way, but when I look back, it doesn’t feel like coincidence. It feels like the work connecting people who are already moving in the same direction.

Because of those connections, I made a decision to change my flight and stay longer. That decision changed everything. What could have been a short visit became something relational. I didn’t just visit schools.

I became part of conversations, of shared questions, of real work. I left not only with experiences, but with relationships. People I now consider friends. And that matters. It makes me want to return, not as a guest, but as someone who continues the work alongside them.

At Rumi Montessori, with Nusaibah and her team, and at Children’s Garden Montessori Academy, with Jezmine, I didn’t feel like a visitor. I felt welcomed into the work. The conversations were honest and grounded, focused on real children, real behaviors, and real challenges. There was no need to impress. Only a willingness to reflect, to ask questions, and to grow.

I also had the opportunity to spend time with the Dignity for Children Foundation, working with children from refugee communities. That experience stays with you in a different way. It removes any illusion of control or perfection and reminds you that inclusion is not something we talk about when it is convenient. It is something we practice when it is difficult, when the child in front of us does not fit the system, when we are asked to adjust more than we expected.

And then there is the difference between traveling and truly experiencing a place. You can move through a country as a tourist, seeing what is there without ever being part of it. That was not my experience. I was taken care of, guided, invited into conversations, into meals, into relationships. There was a level of generosity and respect that made this feel human, not transactional. That matters, because at its core, Montessori is relational work.

Being at the World Forum and connecting with educators from different parts of the world, including leaders from the Montessori Association of Malaysia, brought everything into focus. Different countries, different systems, different realities, and still the same question remains: are we really prepared to meet all children, or are we still expecting children to meet us? We often say Montessori is inclusive, but that is not automatic. It depends on the adult. It depends on how willing we are to observe without judgment, to understand behavior as communication, to let go of expectations, and to stay present when things do not look the way we thought they would.

The truth is, some Montessori environments are still more committed to looking right than to doing what is right for the child.

This work is not easy. It challenges your training, your comfort, and your idea of what a classroom should look like. But this experience reminded me that there are educators around the world who are willing to do that work, not perfectly, but honestly. Malaysia, thank you for your generosity, your openness, and the way you welcomed not just me, but the work itself. This is the direction Montessori needs.