I can’t say who set whom in motion—whether I spurred the school on, or it spurred me. The fact is that exactly 10 years ago, Granada International Montessori School (once called Galápagos) took its first steps. I developed the project gradually, until Olga (my partner) and I cast aside all caution to leap into the unknown. Thus, on 7th January 2015, we opened what would end up being the very first Montessori school in Granada in a small city-centre play facility, with only three children (our daughter included). Nine months later, with our group at full capacity, we were ready to move to our current location in Gójar.
Shortly before that move, we took the initial steps to set everything in motion, drafting and shaping an idea that had come to me almost from the moment I began my Montessori Elementary education training. Tracing that idea back, I bump into the memory of a colleague who inspired me. Together, we began sketching out “something” that was meant to become a school one day in the Albaicín.
Before all of this, there were a couple of inspiring moments that undoubtedly had a major impact on making the school a reality: a coaching course that left us feeling that anything is possible if one’s intention is clear, and a conversation with a relative who, a few days before she passed away, told me something like: “Do whatever you want to do—don’t leave anything undone.”
Going back a bit further in time, pulling on that thread, the word “Montessori” came to mind through various people, including Olga and another friend. This coincided with my daughter’s first year of life—a pivotal factor, since without her, that word, “Montessori”, would never have had the strength it did, and our school wouldn’t exist today.
That was the starting point: our daughter. She (like everything that exists) is the material manifestation of a largely intangible process, in which countless events—mostly beyond our control—come together over time. And in much the same way, this school is also the tangible expression of another vast process, filled with many beginnings that shaped it.
Raising my daughter brought together the first drops of information which, over time, turned into streams and tributaries, collecting more knowledge and inspiration. These grew into rivers of ideas enriched by creative elements and a broader understanding, flowing with a clear, intentional direction. That dynamic and energy ultimately shaped the school, which is now celebrating its first decade.
How strange life can be. What first drew me to Montessori education was the physical side—the developmental materials. All those resources that Maria Montessori designed for children to work with in the classroom. As an industrial designer, I was fascinated by their quality and sheer variety, especially since they were the creation of someone who was not a designer by profession but a medical doctor.
Much like children discovering the world, my own discovery of Montessori moved from hands to mind—from the concrete to the abstract, from the materials themselves to the educational theory and philosophy behind the method. And that really is astounding. That philosophy transforms how we understand education.
I did not produce the idea of founding a school. I did not generate that idea. It arrived, chose me, used me to take shape and become tangible. And once it materialised between Olga and me, it detached from us yet retained its own life, without letting us go entirely.
There was something special about that idea that left me quite dazed: the powerful inspiration of Maria Montessori, which can send you a bit mad. I felt an uncontrollable urge to place a Montessori school in the midst of Granada’s traditional educational landscape, as though I had a duty and responsibility to do so. This goes far beyond merely carrying out an idea. The self-acquired responsibility of bringing and establishing the immense value of Montessori education here in Granada is far greater than simply “setting up a school”. For that reason, failure was not an option; whatever the cost, it had to happen eventually.
That is why I held on throughout the initial years of running a school with endless complexities and financial shortfalls. It felt almost impossible to find the right administrative framework, economic viability, professional team and social acceptance for such a different, international and multicultural school—one that is truly bilingual, where:
- There are no homework assignments or exams.
- Children of different ages share spaces.
- Pupils can actively choose their own work with appealing, largely self-explanatory materials.
- The teacher does not have a fixed role at the front of the classroom but stays in the background and offers individual or group support as needed.
- The environment is relaxed yet active.
- There is a sense of calm and self-discipline without rewards or punishments.
- Children develop autonomy and independence with the loving, respectful presence of the adults guiding them.
- The learning experience is far deeper, as it is no longer limited by a single textbook.
There is a well-known saying you might come across on a sugar packet: “Because nobody told him it was impossible, he did it.” Here’s the real sequence: It was impossible. I didn’t know that. I started, and it happened. It is “impossible” to start a school with less than €10,000 (my entire savings at the time, which vanished within months), with no entrepreneurial knowledge or experience, working as a secondary teacher, raising a two-year-old child, and studying for a Montessori Education master’s degree at the same time.
It is “impossible” to run a school without any idea how to do it. The school actually runs you: the numbers, the bureaucracy, the staff, the parents, the neighbour—all of it becomes overwhelming, and you end up firefighting without being a firefighter. We had a clear vision, but not the means.
Nonetheless, neither fear nor doubt held us back. We were going to bring the very first Montessori infant and primary school to Granada (and its surrounding area). It took much longer than I would have liked, and the challenges and time involved have certainly left their mark on me. Yet it happened—we did it.
The school we created had something that transcended the “impossible”: it held an unshakeable vision, an idea that moved me, that felt not entirely my own, and that was stronger than me: bringing a Montessori school to my homeland.
This project could only come to fruition thanks to the push from people who believed in it and shared our vision, starting with our dear partner, Marta, who provides us with such solid support, or the drive given by our former head teacher, Candice, over many long years. These people have energised the school, nurtured and fed it with their knowledge, opinions, financial backing, enthusiasm, collaboration, and publicity.
But above all the efforts of countless people who have left their mark on the school—and those who continue to do so—the real driving force behind this living entity is all the children who, year after year (with very few exceptions), have shown us that Montessori works and that our school exists because it must. They need and enjoy it, and it brings a refreshing breath of air into a heavily burdened traditional system.
No human community is perfect—or perhaps that is exactly what perfection is. Maybe the perfect human community is defined by a balanced dynamism, a somewhat stable core, an appropriate size, and the ability to sustain its imperfections without falling apart. And with all of that, it manages to stay united and feel thankful for its own existence. That is what happens at this school—or rather, that is what this school is.
The journey from a children’s play facility with three children and a Montessori guide in training, to an internationally certified Early Years and Primary school of 80 pupils supported by a wonderful professional team of 15 people of excellent human quality, has been a constant learning process. Every failure along the way has been analysed, absorbed, and turned into success, while each triumph has been celebrated and used as a base camp for the next stage.
This school grows as it consolidates. The most recent milestone has been the extension of our international certification (MSA), which allows us to begin the process for the secondary stage. It will continue to grow and widen its offerings, as it already has the necessary permissions, demand, and viability—little by little.
The school has also opened up new pathways: the spin-off “Salón Matemático”, an after-school project driven by the school to share the enjoyment and mental exploration of mathematics using Montessori-inspired games and resources. Situated in Granada city, in a new and pioneering premises opposite the school Jardín de la Reina, not far from the Parque de las Ciencias, it aims to bring a fresh approach to learning maths.
This school is not just a place where children go to learn or develop. This Montessori school came to me to finish making me—or perhaps to remake me. And there is no shortage of families who have let us know how much they themselves have learnt from their children’s school.
That’s why, on its 10th anniversary, I feel immense gratitude towards everyone who has contributed their energy so that the impossible becomes reality—something marvellous—and continues to provide so much value to those who look it in the eye.
To all the families, the school’s professional team, volunteers, trainees, students who have attended courses here, the training centres that have delivered sessions on our premises, our distinguished visitors, our own close relatives, our Montessori colleagues from other schools with whom we have shared so much, Gójar Town Council, expert advisors and consultants… to everyone who gave their energy and, in one way or another, made it possible for this educational project to be created and to consolidate—or continue to do so today: congratulations and thank you for making this school a reality. To all of you, thank you.
Rafa Román
