Author: Pernille Ripp

I am a passionate teacher in Oregon, Wisconsin, USA, who has taught 4th, 5th, and 7th grade. Proud techy geek, and mass consumer of incredible books. Creator of the Global Read Aloud Project, Co-founder of EdCamp MadWI, and believer in all children. I have no awards or accolades except for the lightbulbs that go off in my students’ heads every day. First book “Passionate Learners – Giving Our Classrooms Back to Our Students” can be purchased now. Second book“Empowered Schools, Empowered Students – Creating Connected and Invested Learners” is out now from Corwin Press. Follow me on Twitter @PernilleRipp.
education reform

My School – A Dream to Work With

Pernille Ripp

We all talk about “If I was in charge…” or “If I could decide…” then this is what school would be like.  Well, here are my ideas, unfinished, a lot of wishful thinking and yet powerful in their simplicity.

My school would have less walls, more carpets for laying down and many nooks and crannies for self-reflection.

My school would have less bells, more time to explore and not so set schedules of when one class ends and another begins.

It would have farmers connected to teach students about food and to celebrate where food comes from and teachers would be given the time to collaborate and even teach each other’s classes because they are all our children.

My school would have windows that could be opened and fields that beckoned for exploration.  There would be desks of course, but also stand up tables, shelves, couches and beanbags for students to choose from.

Curriculum dreams would come true meaning standards would be followed but not shoved down our throats and we would have enough time to update our learning quests.

Questions would be posed from the students and then time given to find the answers.

Engagement would be evident, as would loudness and excitement.  And that is just talking about the teachers not to mention the students.

There would be real accountability, urgency, and a shared goal for progress.  Results would be discussed and reflected upon, not just noted and scored.
Collaboration between grades and level would be expected as would the sharing of resources.

Students would be heard as equals and parents would be brought in to discuss change and direction and actually be listened to.

There would be no grades, just progress and feedback.  No homework other than meaningful projects and punishment would not be integrated either.  We would have to to build community and discuss behavior.

My school would be for all students and students with special needs would be given the resources they need.  Teachers who work with them would be given the time to do so right.

Technology would be used to connect with the world and strengthen students voices, but books would also have a home as would pen and paper.  There is no need for either or at my school.

We would be flexible but firm and have a clear vision.  A vision that we all created together and that never became stagnant.

My school would be a place where everyone knew they could learn, where no one was just passed through the system, where students actually were listened to as were teachers.

My school may only exist in my imagination, but many ideas I can implement into my classroom already.  I cannot wait.

education reform, Student-centered

Ask the Children

Pernille Ripp

There are many experts in education.  Government that seems to know best, education secretaries that certainly have the solution, districts that mandate, standards to be followed, and teachers that always know best.  Yet in many conversations surrounding education we seem to leave someone important out; the students.  No one seems to be bothered to ask what they think of the state of the American educational system.  No one seems to care how they feel about Race to the Top, college tuition, or even day-to-day curriculum.  No one seems to care because we do education to them.  

Students are not seen as the experts that they truly are.  Students are not included in the debates, in the decision making and yet all of our decisions impact them the greatest.   This year, I ran my classroom with one word in mind: ours!  This classroom does not belong to me, I am not there to “do” anything, I am there to educate along with my students.  And believe me, they want to be heard.  When I provided them with the opportunity to speak either through conversation or blogging, it was like a floodgate had been opened.  These 4th graders already knew how they learned best, they knew how to be the best students they could possible be, except no one had ever asked them.

We claim to be experts yet forget to ask those we are experts on.  How can this failed social experiment continue to function?  How can we do education to all of these children without ever asking them how they feel about it.  Ask the children!  Hear their voice and then change!  It changed my life when I let my students speak, don’t continue to support the silence.

alfie kohn, classroom expectations, rewards

My Barren Wasteland – A Room Without Rewards

Pernille Ripp

A barren wasteland with no smiling allowed.  A silent classroom with a teacher standing sternly at the front slapping a ruler against their palm waiting for the next kid that dares to actually have a good time.  These are all images people tend to get when I say I do not believe in rewards.

Recently I wrote a post detailing how I reward my students through time rather than extrinsic motivators.  One comment I received asked me whether I believed in whole classroom rewards or not, which is a question I often get.  The answer is no.  I don’t believe in the idea of rewards and agree with Alfie Kohn when he states that “Rewards and punishment  are ways of manipulating behavior that destroy the potential for real learning.”

I believe that rewards twist the focus of the classroom and provides students with a false reason to want to engage.  I believe that rewards always end up benefiting the same students and some are always left out.  I know some will say that classroom rewards are the answer to that inequity, but ask yourself; how often have you taken away classroom points or not given marbles based on the actions of one kid or just a couple?  I know I used to even though it did not reflect the behavior of the whole classroom.  So you still produce an inequity because the other kids certainly know who it is that makes them lose points and believe me that plays into social situations sooner or later.

The bottom line for me is when we perpetually stick a carrot in front of students faces whether it be through points, letters, or marbles, we are teaching them that they should not do anything without a reward.  So while in the short term it may work to have kids get points to earn something as a classroom, in the long run it is not shaping their behavior to want to behave simply for the greater good.  I need kids that want to be in my classroom and I expect kids to take responsibility for their behaviors.  So I do not make kids “earn” anything in the reward sense, and I do not single out kids.  Instead we celebrate class-wide whenever an occasion arises.   Celebrations are given not earned and they can be based on whether we have achieved something or it is a certain time of year.  Often students and I discuss how we should celebrate something and it is never ever taken away from them.    I never use it is a way to manipulate their behavior or to point out anything.  We simply celebrate, and there is always a lot to celebrate!

So while classroom rewards may seem harmless, think of what it projects.  Think of what message it really is sending the students.  Are we trying to tell them that we do not expect them to behave without some sort of reward?  Are we trying to tell them that society will always reward them extrinsically whenever they do what is expected of them, because if we are, those kids will be mightily disappointed in adult life.

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alfie kohn, education reform, rewards

GIve Me Back that Gold Star or How Do You Reward Your Students When You Don’t Believe in Rewards

Pernille Ripp
Image taken from here

It used to be when a student did something exceptional, I would place a cute sticker on their worksheet, homework, or test.  I had a drawer just meant for stickers and I lovingly picked new ones for each year in the office catalogs.  I also had Bravo certificates and even great stamps that quickly but distinctly told them exactly how I felt.   Who doesn’t feel great after getting a stamp with a big thumb on it telling you “Thumbs Up!?”  Sometimes, when I had a little more time,  I would even write “Fantastic” next to that sticker just so that they knew I really meant it.

If the class was having a great day I couldn’t wait to dole out those kid points (if I remembered) so that they could earn another party. Never mind the fact that they knew they would earn it eventually because odds were they would have many more great days than bad days. I thought my kids knew that I thought they were great. I thought my kids understood why they were great.   In fact, I even had an “Awesome Wall” where all the A+ work would go up. Of course, I hoped that all kids would eventually have their work prominently displayed, but truthfully some just never did.

So this year I threw it all away. Well, I kept the stickers but they are for my daughter and husband – he loves motivational stickers on his honey-do lists.   The awesome wall got replaced with a world map, the kid/teacher points disappeared. And I felt so empty; after all, how would my kids know when they did a great job? Wouldn’t they miss the stickers and the fantastics? Ummm no. In fact, no kid ever asked me for a sticker this year. No kid ever asked me to explain their fantastic remark because I didn’t write them often.  Truthfully I found out that kids really didn’t need those extrinsic rewards, that learning still happened, that the kids still stayed motivated, of course some days more than others because guess what, they are kids.

So in throwing out all of my rewards, I found out about the biggest reward of all; time.  This simple concept that I know we have precious little of in a classroom is a hot commodity to everyone.  Now when my kids deserve recognition (which they do every day) I give them time.  Whether it is to take the time to speak to them about their work, or to write feedback.  Whether it is to give them time to work or just time to speak to one another.  How about time for a sledding party?  Or time for 5 minutes of meditation after that awesome assembly?  How about the time to just be a classroom, to just hang out and celebrate all the amazing things happening in our room, in our school, in our world?

So don’t feel like giving up rewards will steer your classroom management off course, I believe it will actually heighten it.  I believe that when you push the superficial things out of the way, deeper connections arise and the students become more willing to share, more connected, more motivated.  Finally, by getting rid of rewards I also gave myself the biggest one of all; the chance to connect deeper with my students.  The chance to speak to them more.  The chance to have them all be equals and not labeled and ranked according to grades or homework.  The chance to finally all be “Fantastic.”

being me, lessons learned

Lessons Learned from Home

Pernille Ripp
Coming home to my native Denmark never ceases to ground me, remind me of who I am, as well as provide a few lessons that I bring back to my classroom.  This year, I chose to share them with you.

On one of my first night’s home, my mother shared this story with me:  In 1938 when my 98-year-old grandmother was young she wanted to go to France with a friend.  The daughter of a woodcarver and an aspiring math teacher, she knew that she could realize this dream but that she would have to bike there; all 648 miles.   Their minds made up though, they rode their single gear bicycles the whole way in 2 weeks, stayed a couple of days and then rode their bikes back.  The whole trip took them around a month.  Lesson learned: perseverance and fortitude.  Instead of waiting for the opportunity to arise, my grandmother or mormor as she is known just did it. 

It has been more than 2 years since my best friends, Laila and Julia, and I have sat face to face.  More children, more wrinkles, and more life experiences have shaped us differently and yet we are still the same.  Those old friendships spanning more than 16 years nurture me and sustain who I am and who I want to be.  Those two know me better than anyone and every time we get together we are able to just be ourselves. 
Lesson learned: those who knew you when, matter the most.

This past weekend as I was home alone with Thea, we were chicken sitting for my aunt.  Imagine my horror as a fox attacked them and I was left to call my aunt with the news that the fox had managed to snag half the hens and all the chicks.  While on the phone, the fox came back for me and charged a chicken close by me.  My reaction:  A blood curdling scream and charging toward it.  The poor chicken ran inside the house, the fox ran the other way.  Mission accomplished. 
Lesson learned:  You never know how you will react when something is at stake.

As I visted my grandparents, I told them of how excited I was to move to 5th grade and in particular what we had planned to do for our math instruction.  My mormor, a former math teacher, instantly perked up and told me that she would really like to hear about what we planned on doing and to keep her informed.  She would even offer up suggestions if she had any.
Lesson learned:  Once you find your passion you never grow out of it.

Coming home I instantly felt I belonged and Danish is spoken to me automatically wherever I go; I fit in.  In fact, I wrote a post about how important it is for kids to get the same feeling when they enter our classroom.  I could only feel this way because I know the social norms and expectations in this nation, something most tourists are not privy to. 
Lesson learned:  Share expectations, norms and normal behavior for everyone to feel they belong.

education reform, No grades, no homework, punishment

We Say it is All About the Kids

Pernille Ripp
Time and time again I hear the statement, “I do it for the kids…” or “It’s all about the kids.”  This before I hear any educational philosophy or methodology, but I have yet to meet a teacher that does not think it is all about the kids.  So then what happens from that statement to our classrooms?  Where does the disconnect start because how can you say it is all about the kids and then assign punishment or rewards?  How can you say it is all about the kids and assign hours of homework even at an elementary level?  How can it be all about the kids when there are no re-takes, no extra chances, no resources allowed on tests?

So if it is true that it is all about the kids, then perhaps we need to rethink what that means.  The way a lot of educational systems are set up is apparently all about taking time away from the kids and making sure the teacher is in focus and in control.  Do we not think that all about the kids could mean the kids had a say, were more in control and were even listened to?  Because if inane classroom management, pointless homework, letter grades with no explanation, and test upon test is what is meant by being all about kids, then no, I am not all about the kids.