Month: October 2010

alfie kohn, grading moratorium, letter to Jeremy, no homework

Remember those Dreams of Summer?

Pernille Ripp

This post is the first in, hopefully, many taking place as a conversation between Jeremy Macdonald @MrMacnology, a 5th grade teacher in Oregon, and Pernille Ripp @4thgrdteacher, 4th grade teacher in Wisconsin; two educators who for the first time are attempting a no grades classroom as well as limited homework.  We work under the confines of our districts but with passion and belief that this is the way forward.

Hello Jeremy,
Remember this summer when we had our dreams in place of how we were going to make this work, this no grades thing, and how we knew that with the right amount of dedication it would be a smashing success?  Well, guess what, the school year started and it is hard!  I still believe in it, don’t get me wrong, this has been a massive educational philosophy switch for me and one that I am incredibly passionate about.  I believe I am doing the right thing by focusing on the learning and not the grade, but who ever knew that removing most worksheets, tests, and averages would making teaching so much more time consuming?  Now when students finish a project I have to find the time to speak to them about it or at the very least write lengthy feedback on their work.  No more checking an answer-key and slapping a subjective percentage on it and calling it a day.  I have to study what they learned, how they divulged it, and more importantly figure out where to go from there.

So maybe that is why many educators do the grade; it is easy.  After all, you don’t have to change how you teach a student if the end result is just an average number based upon a semester’s performance.  You can just hand over the grade, watch the disappointment swell if it wasn’t the one they hoped for and then move on.  Parents are happy because they recognize what the grade means, or think they do anyway, and students know exactly where they fit into in the hierarchy in the class.  End of story.  Yet, when you throw away the grade something enormous happens.  At first, students are a little bit surprised, perhaps even dismayed, and definitely confused.  I don’t know how many times I have had to discuss with students why the feedback I have provided does not translate into a percentage.  Some get it, most don’t at this point in the year.  One student in particular keeps asking me how he can earn a good grade and is perpetually disappointed when I tell him that it is about the learning not the grade.  So what do you say?  Do you tell them that they are doing amazing and some would consider that to be an “A+” performance or do you stick to your line and keep pressing on with learning goals?

And the work!  Papers piling up, goals, checklists, notes from conversations all crowd my desk.  With conferences coming up, I am starting to shake a little in my boots.  Will I have enough evidence to prove the academic rigor I am subjecting my students to? Will students be able to explain what they have been learning or how it affects their future learning?  Will I be able to communicate effectively to doubting parents that although less homework is sent home, their child is still learning just as much?  And don’t get me started on report cards!  How will I translate their knowledge into a grade?

I know this is the right path, but why must it be so hard?  I know change is never easy but this makes so much sense.  So where does one go from here?

Best,
Pernille

being a teacher, personality

Do We Dare to Show Ourselves?

Pernille Ripp

The split personality syndrome; an affliction that most teachers suffer from.  We all have our “other”s sides that the students don’t see; maybe it is the side that has tattoos, that swears occassionally or that lives passionaltely for domething that society has not deemed 100% acceptable.  Whatever it is, we hide it, in order to be proper teachers.  Not because we are told but it is expected of us.  You see, being a teacher is not just a job; it’s a life.

I first remember when it happened to me.  Walking in as a practicum student, realizing the immense importance of my future job, and knowing that not all sides of my sparkling personality would see the light.  Not that there is some dark hidden life that I cannot confess to in the daylight, but rather those things we don’t speak of, those things we do not do in front of others.  At least if those others are fellow educators, parents, or students.  Taking those first steps into the building, shelving away part of my personality, inducted me into something special; the cult of teaching.

Teachers are pristine, angelic creatures that live passionately only for their students.  Society has put us on such a high pedestal that most of us struggle to even reach it, let alone remain on it.  We are not just role models for the students when it comes to being passionate learners, but also when it comes to how we live our life.  So we don’t swear (ever!), we certainly do not drink alcohol, smoke, have tattoos, go-go dance, or whatever it is that we do as part of our other life.  We keep it secret, speaking only of noble adventures and how they strengthen our pursuit to be the very best teacher we can be.

I know of very few other profession that puts such high moral demands on its participants and yet we are supposed to willingly accept it because we were the the ones that chose to be teachers.  No longer allowed to be fully human, we instead become caricatures of ourselves, always smiling, always perfect, never gritty or tarnished.  And of course, I agree that we shouldn’t swear, or drink alcohol or any of those things in front of our students, but we are allowed as adults to go out and have a drink and a dance on Saturday night without looking over our shoulder and worrying about who sees us.  And while I relish the fact that I am role model and take it very seriously, I have also found that students respond to us better when we let them in a little; show them a little of our true personality, warts and all. 

So I wonder when teachers will have their fall from grace?  When will society realize that the expectations to us as human beings are so ridiculously distorted that no one will want to even try to be that perfect.  Is this something we must just accept or is there a way to turn it around?  How do we continue on as educators but perhaps show ourselves as fully human?  How do we escape the cult of teaching, the personality we are expected to have, or do we not want to? 

being a teacher, change, communication, control, students

What Do you Mean I am Not the Center of Attention?

Pernille Ripp
This year I stepped out of the limelight.  Hard, cruel, and totally uncomfortable but I am learning to just be quiet.  And not so that I freak my students out with long stern stares or raised eyebrows, although that does happen on occasion.  But so that students can talk, learn, and explore.

You see when a teacher talks a lot, and teachers usually love to talk, students turn into drones.  We know all of the material already so we are so eager to tell the kids all about it.  Some call it excitement over curriculum, I just call it teacher mouth.  We talk to get them ready to them learn, we talk about the learning they are doing, and then we talk about what they have just learned.  Have we ever thought that maybe us being quiet would let them learn better, more, faster?

So I decided that this year would be it.  After reading brain research that shows that students pay proper attention to the same amounts of minutes as their age; oh yes, I have 9 minutes of attention time, I knew I had to stop talking.  Immediately, me ego tried to stop me; how will they ever learn anything if I don’t tell them all about it?  Well, that has been the great part.  Students seem to be actually learning more this way.  They are talking to their classmates about concepts, they are figuring things out on their own and most importantly; they are eager to get to work and learn something.

As the proud parent that lets go of the bicycle so junior can peddle on their own, I am learning to let go of my own ego.  We are so highly educated that we think the only way the students learn best is if we teach them.  Wrong, the best way for student to learn is to explore, and fail, and then explore some more.

So while my classroom may be a little more noisy, ok, a lot more noisy, this year, and lessons may be taking a bit longer because the students have to discover the answer rather than me pointing it out to them, there is also more excitement, more come on and do it and more get-to-it-ness then there has ever been before.  So even though I catch myself sometimes talking too long, I am also getting better at letting go.  After all, I know this stuff already which is why I  am the teacher, now let them have their turn in the spotlight.

assumptions, community, lessons learned

Well, Mrs. Ripp….

Pernille Ripp

I have been working a lot with my students about trust and how we must trust each other in the classroom. We do this through meetings when we get a chance or small conversations through the day. Today, as we sat in a circle, we once again discussed how we need to trust each other when it comes to learning. The students know this lesson and can recite it but I always wonder; do they understand it? Well, ask and you shall receive…

Students agree that they would never mock another child for getting a math answer wrong and neither would they roll their eyes if someone wasn’t able to perform at a certain level. When asked why they wouldn’t, they told me that they knew better than that and that they do not want to hurt each other. I then asked whether they would mock someone at recess – silence. Shy glances, shifty looks and finally a couple of students started to speak in vague terms about other students and how they misbehave on the playground.

After some discussion, students admitted that they too can lose their temper with each other and don’t act the same way at recess as they do in the classroom. I, of course, finally asked them why? The answer: “Mrs. Ripp, you are not out at recess.” When I wondered how that mattered, they answered “Well, we always behave around you because we are afraid of you…”

Apparently, I have some thinking to do.

being a teacher, believe, connect, education reform, embrace, hero, inspiration, kids, love

We are Superheroes

Pernille Ripp

We are superheroes. Or at least in the eyes of some students, we are. We can do magic such as melt styrofoam cups, solve complicated algorithms in our head instantaneously, and know exactly what is happening behind us when our backs are turned. We are all-knowing, knowing who needs a hand, a soothing word, a joke. We come to the rescue of students that are lost, disheartened, upset over a fight with another child. And we love endlessly, always ready to share , hug (if allowed), laugh, and even cry. We are superheroes.

And yet, sometimes we forget that, and a raised voice stains our image. A sharpness of tone shows that we might be a little bit evil. A lost temper may prove it once and for all. And the students watch, and talk, and remember. And yet, they continue to believe because we build it back up. We continue our quest to make them superhuman, to make them believe in themselves. To pass on our powers as healers of the world, changers, movers, learners, teachers. We do it all and we do it out of love, respect, necessity. We let our students become our mission because someone has to show them that there is faith that they too will become superheroes one day, that they too will believe in others, that they too will change a life. So believe in yourself so that others may believe in you as well. The difference is being made, just look into the eyes of your students and you will see it. They believe in you, now believe in them.

acheivement, alfie kohn, assumptions, being a teacher, believe, change, choices, communication, difference, elementary, get out of the way, grades, homework, learning, parents, promise, trust

How Homework Destroys

Pernille Ripp

It finally happened; a parent decided to disagree with my new take on homework. They do not feel that I am providing enough and thus am doing a disservice to the students by lulling them into a fake sense of security in their skills. My response at first was indignation; how dare so and so question my fantastic educational shift in philosophy. Why are they not enlightened or believers as well? And then it dawned on me; I have not shown them the way.

I spend a lot of time speaking to students about what we are doing, why we are doing it, and what the goal is for their learning but not enough explaining that to the parents. And while I hope that parents have faith in me, I cannot take it for granted. I am, after all, messing with a system that has been set in place for many years and that these same parents are products of. So, of course, my system may come as a shock at first, and without the proper explanation it will continue to be so. After all, parents have been trained to think that for every grade level you figure out homework load by multiplying the grade level with 10 minutes. So by 4th grade, students should at the very least be doing 40 minutes of homework a night. And yet, my students don’t. They do most of their work in class, even staying in for recess so that I may help them, and I never willingly send home a piece of homework that I know they will struggle for hours with.

Homework should be practice, a showing of skills. It should not be a two hour time consumer where both mom, dad and the encyclopedia gets involved. I explain this to my students and the sense of relief is visible in them. They know that I will challenge them in class but at home they may pursue life instead. So if you work hard at school then the reward is rest, family time, and a pursuit of happiness. And it works. My students are still learning everything they should for the year, albeit in a more hands-on manner. I am shying away from worksheets and instead having conversations about learning. Our favorite tool is our dry-eraseboards that allows me a quick check in for understanding. And the students are noticing the difference. No longer dreading the afternoon because I will continue to haunt their day. No longer dreading school because it means so many extra hours of works. No longer dreading learning because they are realizing that learning is something you do at school and that it doesn’t come form worksheets.

When I recently welcomed 9 new students into my room, one “old” student told me that she was looking forward to seeing how the newbies would react since I “teach a little crazy.” And perhaps that is true. I am loud, obnoxiously so at times, and I have high standards. I push kids to learn, I push kids to understand, and then I back off. I let them think about it, let the learning resonate within them, and then I challenge them to dredge it out again the following day.

By no means, am I the perfect teacher. I have many years of learning to come, but I do know that I am on to something here and I stand at a fork in the road signaling a massive shift in my whole educational philosophy. I believe these students are learning, I believe I am preparing them as well as any other teacher, and most importantly I believe I am letting them be kids at the same time. My students know that if something is homework it is for the benefit of their learning and is important to do, not just another piece of paper that their teacher didn’t get to in class. They know that I only assign it if it is truly valuable, and not just something for me to use for grades. They know that we will meet and discuss their learning, always knowing what is missing, what is accomplished, what the direction should be. They know that if I assign something to them it is because they have the skills needed to do it. Do yours?