I had the distinct pleasure of hearing Michael’s stories in person through my Montessori training at St. Kate’s. They were flawless. He did not recite them; they were performed. Never a slip of the tongue and told at the right cadence to absorb every word. He also spoke at a volume that drew you into the story without straining to hear it. He was captivating, as any good storyteller should be. However, I didn’t fully appreciate his ability until I heard recordings of his stories. They were precisely the same! Not just close, they were identical. When we think of ancient bards, shamans, and storytellers, they remember astonishing amounts that it would seem impossible for one person to hold that much information in their mind. However, I saw it in person with Michael. He could immediately break out into one of the many stories, which would be the same as he told it hundreds of times before. His message that storytelling is a fundamental mode of teaching and communicating was a message he lived. He talked the talk and walked the walk.

He was a different kind of person. While this may be a symptom of being a Montessori teacher for so long, I think this is a chicken-and-egg argument. Are weird people drawn to Montessori, or does Montessori make us weird? Either way, he cared passionately for the work and his students (children and adults alike). The way Michael spoke gave away an underlying patience and curiosity that is important for any teacher. One of the qualities I most admired was his ability not reflexively to answer questions, but actually take a moment to ponder the answer. He made space for you in the conversation, and he made space for himself so he could honestly think of what he would say the best he could.

He demanded a lot from his adult students. However, I believe it was his way of caring for the future generation by ensuring his future teachers met the qualifications that make an excellent Montessori teacher. We know that Maria Montessori was strict in her instructional practices with adults. Like Dr. Montessori, Michael demanded precision. However, he was always susceptible to a good joke. He occasionally told them out of nowhere, which always caught us off-guard.

 There are a few people who I owe my life’s trajectory, and Michael Dorer may be at the top of the list. It wasn’t just his instruction as my Montessori certification trainer; he was a true mentor to me. Have you ever met or worked with someone without knowing their importance and influence? As a young Montessori student, I didn’t realize how important Dr. Michael Dorer was to advancing Montessori education. To me, he was just my teacher and mentor, but unbeknownst to me, to a lot more people, he was the guru of storytelling. I didn’t realize everyone didn’t receive the fantastic stories in their Montessori training that I did, and I took it for granted. As I have grown in my profession, I have met many people who have told me how amazing The Deep Well of Time is and how it makes many topics come alive for them and their students. Luckily, I was able to express my admiration and gratitude to him while he was healthy.

 For those of you who follow my work in physical education and Montessori, it was Michael who gave me the most pivotal piece of advice I was ever given on the topic. It happened at a St. Paul farmer’s market. He knew I didn’t have a car, so he invited me to drive with him to the farmer’s market because the cheese and honey were outstanding there. He was looking for some herbs for cooking and making gin concoctions. During the car drive, he made a life-altering suggestion. He knew I was in a unique position educationally because I had a degree in exercise physiology, and I was getting close to completing my elementary one and two training. He knew this was not the background of most Montessori teachers and saw in me the capacity to impact the Montessori world by creating a physical education curriculum more authentic to the Montessori method. While I wanted to improve the physical education at school (and other Montessori schools), I didn’t know where to start. There is so much content to teach in the physical education realm…. I had to make it Montessori, too. Michael’s suggestion, while a simple one, was profound.

“Whatever you do with your physical education curriculum, make sure it integrates with the Montessori classroom.”

These sixteen words completely lifted the burden of curriculum creation off my shoulders. Of course, I didn’t need to create the curriculum! If we should “Follow the Child,” I must follow the classroom curriculum. There was no longer the need to reinvent the wheel. I knew exactly what lessons should be taught and when because I collaborated with the classroom teacher and followed her lead. I never had to second-guess the method because it was derived directly from the Montessori method and its materials. The magic would now be how to create games that also taught principles from classroom lessons, but by luck and divine inspiration, the well has not run dry. The Montessori materials and lessons almost tell me what they need to become a PE lesson. This is only possible because Michael put me on the path I will follow for the rest of my life. Any teacher or student who has enjoyed my lessons and thanked me for my work has also indirectly thanked Michael.

 One of the most beautiful things about a story is it endures. A story lives long past the person who created it. The story is like a child. It inherits the DNA of the person who created it. However, every person who tells the story afterward also imprints themselves on it. The story continues and changes just as the child grows into adulthood. However, any good story doesn’t lose its meaning or lessons taught, like the adult who still has a piece of childlike wonder and curiosity in their heart. Michael’s stories will endure. His students (adult and child) will pass them on to future generations, and those lessons will endure. We are lucky to have his stories recorded. However, if you knew Michael, you know he would prefer you memorize them. Now that he has joined the other great storytellers of the past, our job is to keep his stories alive with our children and our children’s children.