Belonging
“True belonging doesn't require you to change who you are; it requires you to be who you are.”
— Brené Brown
Belonging is a word that seems to be everywhere right now. I'll admit, I usually hesitate when certain words suddenly become part of our everyday vocabulary. Sometimes they get used so often that they begin to lose the very meaning that made them powerful in the first place.
But belonging is different.
Belonging is the reason I am here. It is why I chose Montessori education as my life's work. It is why my partner and I chose this community for our own children. Long before belonging became a popular conversation, it was quietly shaping the way I understood education and the kind of world I hoped children could grow up in.
At Leelanau Montessori, we believe children are not simply preparing for life someday—they are living it now. Every day they experience what it means to be known, to be trusted, to be needed, and to be loved for exactly who they are. They also discover something equally important: that belonging isn't about fitting in or becoming more like everyone else. It's about bringing your whole self into a community that is stronger because you are part of it.
That kind of belonging asks something of all of us. It asks us to see one another, to make space for differences, to practice empathy, to repair when relationships become strained, and to celebrate one another's gifts. None of us does this perfectly. We learn it together.
To me, that is one of the greatest gifts we can offer children, a place where they know, without question, "I matter here." If our children leave our school believing that about themselves and extending that same gift to others, then we have done something truly meaningful.
Family Conversation:
One of the beautiful things about belonging (and most feelings for that matter) is that children can experience it and feel it long before they can name it. Here are some conversation starters to ask your children around the dinner table or in the car on the way home from school to get some insight into how they are experiencing belonging.
- Who are you excited to see tomorrow?
- What makes our classroom feel cozy and safe?
- When did you feel like you were an important part of your class today?
- What makes someone feel welcome?
- When do you feel most like yourself at school?
Community Spotlight:
By Tess Waechter Smith
Belonging - a word that may evoke many stories, many experiences , many feelings perhaps of love and comfort, of longing and likely of pain and fear.
A definition my teacher taught me of belonging comes from tracing the etymology. Belonging means “to be in the long.” That is, it is a practice, a practice between beings. Belonging is a shared knowing that we cultivate and nurture overtime about how we be together.
And, we already belong. Nothing we have to do or be to earn it. Because we live and breathe, we belong to life. It is inherent - that means for our kids too.
It’s inherent, it’s a practice and it is essential to our survival as humans. The reality is we don’t always feel as though we belong. From the time we are young, we collect myths that wound our belonging making it seem conditional. In order to belong, we have to look a certain way, act a certain way, believe a certain thing. It is a practiced reality that we collectively live inside of, and it is a myth. Therefore, we can practice something different.
And, we already belong. Nothing we have to do or be to earn it. Because we live and breathe, we belong to life. It is inherent - that means for our kids too.
It’s inherent, it’s a practice and it is essential to our survival as humans.
The reality is we don’t always feel as though we belong.
From the time we are young, we collect myths that wound our belonging making it seem conditional. In order to belong, we have to look a certain way, act a certain way, believe a certain thing. It is a practiced reality that we collectively live inside of, and it is a myth. Therefore, we can practice something different.
Here’s an invitation to practice: Because of these wounds, sometime starting with other humans can feel like too much. So we can start with the trees, the water, the birds - even our pets!
Pause here. Take a breath, feel the ground and your feet. Let your gaze get softer and widen letting in more peripheral vision. With your next breath, imagine your lungs getting wider and filled with more air, feel the width of your shoulders, your hips, your toes. You belong to the trees and their roots, the water and its flow, the birds and their songs, your pet and their love. How might you feel that connection in your body? What becomes more available to you as you feel into this inherent belonging?
Some of the most powerful ways we can teach and offer our kids is through our own practice and embodiment of our values. Your practice toward belonging will be witnessed and felt by your kids.
We can also invite them into practice with us. On a walk, speak about how we belong to the trees and the earth. At bedtime or as you begin your day, touch your foreheads together with the out loud reminder - “we belong to each other.” What else? Think of a way you might practice belonging for yourself and a practice you could share with your kids.
Welcome to the web, you belong. We belong.
Staff Perspective:
By Janelle Cole | Cherry Lead guide
I have been an educator for as long as I can remember. My mom will tell you it began when I was 18 months old and my little brother, Stu, was born. I decided he was mine—mine to guard, teach, and direct. I’m sure he very much appreciated being my guinea pig as I helpfully taught him everything he didn’t need to know.
As I grew up, I coached, tutored, and volunteered in a variety of educational settings. My mom homeschooled me with the principles of growth mindset, exploration and discovery, and self-directed learning with guidance. As a result, I fell in love with learning—and with education.
That’s why my senior year of college was such a shock. Once I began working in classrooms, I remember thinking, "This isn’t the kind of education I signed up for… This curriculum preps kids for a trivia night nobody asked for, not real life." So I left.
For the next few years I raced road bikes, then moved to Colorado, where I learned carpentry, rode dirt bikes, and embraced mountain life. It was exciting, challenging, and full of problem-solving, but I still felt like I was searching for where I belonged.
Then my brother unexpectedly died.
Without the one person I always belonged with, regardless of time or distance, I was completely adrift. I returned to Michigan, half-heartedly searched for work, and landed in a Pre-K daycare. Whatever that fever dream was, it was decidedly not where I belonged.
One Friday night, at the end of my already impressively short rope, I Googled, "schools that prepare kids for actual life things" A blog about Montessori education appeared. My first thought was, "Ah yes, underwater basket weaving school. Why not?" But something made me keep reading, and before long I knew I had to try this. It was my Hail Mary—the last of my hope for a future in education.
Indeed brought me to LMPSA, where I met Arden, toured the school, and observed the classrooms. I was offered tea, a fresh-baked muffin, and smiles from children radiating joy and curiosity. After hearing about my background and philosophy of education, Arden said something I’ll never forget:
"I think you’re a Montessorian, and I want to offer you the job.”
A weight I didn’t know I’d been carrying lifted. For the first time in years, I felt like I had found where I belonged.
That feeling has only grown stronger.
In Montessori—and at LMPSA especially—I found people who cherish childhood, believe deeply in the responsibility and freedom of education, and choose hope over convenience. I found colleagues who know that belonging is more than showing up; it’s investing in a community, helping others grow, and leaving things better than we found them.
I found my home among Montessorians—parents, children, and guides—who choose the harder path because they believe it is the better one. I remain deeply grateful to have found my sense of belonging in the Montessori world, and at LMPSA, my home.
Thank you for reading this month’s newsletter!
