Hello, my name is Pernille Ripp and I am blogger. Two years ago I would never have been able to introduce myself that way, it has only been a year and yet this journey has profoundly changed me, my teaching, and my world. And yet how does it feel to be out in the open? How does it really feel to be blogging with my real name, real thoughts, and real fears?
I decided to blog because my husband thought it would give me an outlet for all of my thoughts. I have always loved to write, poetry in particular, and I have pages upon pages filled with horrid teenage misery that hopefully no one will ever find. I have tried journals and seen them fail – who would want to read my thoughts after I die? What a selfish notion. And yet blogging for me is a journal in some way even though it didn’t start that way. Instead my blog came about as a way to digest all that was happening in my head, a reflection of my classroom and the things I had been taught in college unraveling. I wrote for myself, for my own clarity and then something happened; people responded. They shared their stories, their lives with me and trusted me with their words and sometimes even asked for advice. From me! A fourth year teacher who is an infant among the great teachers. Encouraged by their thoughts, I kept on writing about whatever I had to change. I figured if I made it public it would be more binding to me, it would become more urgent because the world was watching. And again people responded, some kindly, some not so much and I found myself debating, articulating, and always reflecting upon my actions and my words.
I have never considered a pseudonym, not that there is anything wrong with that but for me it just didn’t even cross my mind. Mostly because I thought no one would read my blog anyway and I am honest to a fault and therefore wanted to represent me in the online world. I never considered hiding my blog from people I worked with or others that meet me in the “real world.” After all, I have nothing to hide and I am not ashamed of admitting that I still have a lot to learn. As a teacher there has, of course, been conflict. Some people do not appreciate me writing and think I should know my place. Some people think my ideas are too out there and do not like what I propose for my classroom. Some people think I am addressing them even though I only reflect upon my own choices and education as a whole. And so the battles happen between my blogging and people who may take offense. There have been days where I have cried, and days where I have rejoiced. Once a parent emailed me a comment on a piece I had written. Baffled I told her I did not know she read my blog. She responded that she had a for awhile and admired my thoughts. I shouldn’t be surprised; all sorts of people read it, and yet here was someone who’s child was directly affected by my teaching style saying that what I did was a good thing. Humbling. So I write as if I am telling a story to the head of my district, I choose what I write about it and try to remain positive. The world does not need anymore reminders of just how awful it can be but it does need reminders of all that we can change if we believe in it. The change starts with me, with my real name, and real life details.
So I blog with my heart and my mind knowing full well that I cannot please everyone. I know that some people who cross my path may not agree with my ideas, and I am at peace with that. My blogging has shaped a new facet of my identity, one that is rooted in reform and thinking about the needs of the children versus my own needs as a teacher. This writing in the open has brought sorrows yes, but it has also brought so much joy to my life. I now enter my classroom with passion, knowing that this is the kind of room I would have loved to have been a student in. I am becoming the kind of teacher that makes my mother proud. Blogging did that for me.
I decided to blog because my husband thought it would give me an outlet for all of my thoughts. I have always loved to write, poetry in particular, and I have pages upon pages filled with horrid teenage misery that hopefully no one will ever find. I have tried journals and seen them fail – who would want to read my thoughts after I die? What a selfish notion. And yet blogging for me is a journal in some way even though it didn’t start that way. Instead my blog came about as a way to digest all that was happening in my head, a reflection of my classroom and the things I had been taught in college unraveling. I wrote for myself, for my own clarity and then something happened; people responded. They shared their stories, their lives with me and trusted me with their words and sometimes even asked for advice. From me! A fourth year teacher who is an infant among the great teachers. Encouraged by their thoughts, I kept on writing about whatever I had to change. I figured if I made it public it would be more binding to me, it would become more urgent because the world was watching. And again people responded, some kindly, some not so much and I found myself debating, articulating, and always reflecting upon my actions and my words.
I have never considered a pseudonym, not that there is anything wrong with that but for me it just didn’t even cross my mind. Mostly because I thought no one would read my blog anyway and I am honest to a fault and therefore wanted to represent me in the online world. I never considered hiding my blog from people I worked with or others that meet me in the “real world.” After all, I have nothing to hide and I am not ashamed of admitting that I still have a lot to learn. As a teacher there has, of course, been conflict. Some people do not appreciate me writing and think I should know my place. Some people think my ideas are too out there and do not like what I propose for my classroom. Some people think I am addressing them even though I only reflect upon my own choices and education as a whole. And so the battles happen between my blogging and people who may take offense. There have been days where I have cried, and days where I have rejoiced. Once a parent emailed me a comment on a piece I had written. Baffled I told her I did not know she read my blog. She responded that she had a for awhile and admired my thoughts. I shouldn’t be surprised; all sorts of people read it, and yet here was someone who’s child was directly affected by my teaching style saying that what I did was a good thing. Humbling. So I write as if I am telling a story to the head of my district, I choose what I write about it and try to remain positive. The world does not need anymore reminders of just how awful it can be but it does need reminders of all that we can change if we believe in it. The change starts with me, with my real name, and real life details.
So I blog with my heart and my mind knowing full well that I cannot please everyone. I know that some people who cross my path may not agree with my ideas, and I am at peace with that. My blogging has shaped a new facet of my identity, one that is rooted in reform and thinking about the needs of the children versus my own needs as a teacher. This writing in the open has brought sorrows yes, but it has also brought so much joy to my life. I now enter my classroom with passion, knowing that this is the kind of room I would have loved to have been a student in. I am becoming the kind of teacher that makes my mother proud. Blogging did that for me.
