being a teacher, common sense, punishment

The Story of My Brother the Onion Boy

When I was 22, my 12 year old little brother brought a knife to school. Now before people freak out, it was a steak knife, kept in his backpack, until he needed to use it to cut open an onion.  You see, his 6th grade classroom had different plant experiments and my brother’s group had decided that they would slice open an onion in a live demonstration to show the rest of the class all of the layers and even have them smell it.  So he prepared as any normal Danish student would and packed one of our normal serrated dinner knives in his backpack.  Come science time, much to his teacher’s horror he pulled out the knife.  His teacher, a calm and cautious woman, sent him straight to the principal’s office for a knife possession.  And then zero tolerance took over.


Had this event occurred in Denmark, nothing would have happened, in fact, my friends and I had a birthday cake commitment where every time someone had a birthday, cake and a massive bread knife was brought to school.  No big deal.  However, in this post-Columbine American era, no chances were to be taken.  So when my little brother, a straight A student, threatened to cut up that onion he was expelled from school for a year.  The school board argued that intent did not matter, what mattered was that he had brought a dangerous weapon to school and that it could fall into the wrong hands, a person who could then use it as a weapon.  They also argued that to be released back into the school system faster all he would have to do was admit he committed a crime, undergo extensive anger management therapy and anger management therapy.  The school district urged my parents to take the punishment, have him admit his guilt, and then he could return to school the following school year.  Mind you, this was March.


Most parents would not have fought, but mine did.  They saw injustice being made and more importantly, they realized that zero tolerance with no perspective of situation made zero sense.  So they hired a lawyer, a family friend who specializes in bankruptcy law, but has a sharp tongue and even sharper intellect.  The school district was shocked!  They had never had a family hire a lawyer before for an expulsion hearing and when my parents opened up the hearing to the public, the media caught wind of it.  I cannot tell you how strange it is to drive to work and have the local morning radio team lambast your little brother ,who they felt was just another privileged white kid trying to get out of his rightful punishment.  And so I swore at the radio, tried to protect my little brother, who admittedly had made a stupid mistake but a mistake nonetheless, and waited for the hearing.


I don’t think there has ever been so many people to an expulsion hearing before.  I also think a lot of people were shocked at the vigorousness with which the school district’s lawyer went after my little brother.    Had my parents not been in a situation to hire their own lawyer, it would have been a bloodbath, with a 6th grader as its victim.  The hearing lasted 3 1/2 hours with witnesses being called to testify to my brother’s character and intent.  My brother swore he did not realize he was doing anything wrong.  Finally after 3 1/2 hours, the independent examiner told the district that the 15 days my bother had been out of school was enough punishment and that this eagerness to prosecute was overkill.  It was a victory not just for my little brother, whom we still refer to as onion boy, but for all of the students of his district because it prompted a review of the district’s zero tolerance policy, and a clause was added much later that each case had to be evaluated and could not just be judged based on the same language.  A small but righteous victory indeed.


So what made me think of this even that occurred 9 years ago?  A line in this article “How I Joined Teach for America – And Got Sued for $20 Million” in which the writer states, ” Furthermore, I saw from the first month that she generally gave delinquents no more than a stern talking-to, followed by a pat on the back, rather than suspensions, detentions, or any other meaningful punishment.”
Meaningful punishment?  Why does those words seem to not go together?  To me they appear almost opposite of each other.  Meaningful?  When you punish a child, it is to punish, not to have them reflect or rethink, but to judge them based on their actions and then hurt them in some way, not necessarily physically.  When we suspend students, we punish them by removing them from the privilege of learning, even though this sometimes is the worst thing that can happen to them.  When we punish students for not doing their homework by keeping them in from recess, then we are taking away their rightful time to renew and reenergize before we expect them to learn again.  What would a meaningful punishment look like?  There can be a consequence, but a punishment?


So I ask you, is there such a thing as meaningful punishment?  Is it our job as educators to punish our students?  My brother fell victim to a zero tolerance policy that wanted to punish him to the outmost of its capabilities, without common sense, without the “punishment” fitting the “crime.”  He was not angry, nor was he a criminal, and yet the district deemed him as such.  Since when do we get to lose our common sense when we make rules and them apply them blindly?  When do we realize that it is children’s futures we have in our hands and not just percentages or statistics, but real live kids that are deeply affected by our decisions to punish.


As for Christian, he is 21 now, traveling in Asia and about to go to Denmark to study.  I miss him dearly and will never forget that phone call I got from his school back in 2002, when I was sick on my mom’s couch, telling me that he had been caught with a knife, and that scared look when he realized what was going to happen to him.




attention, being a teacher, new teacher, Student-centered, talking

Your Lips May be Moving But I Stopped Listening a Long Time Ago

A question I kept asking myself last summer was, “Would I like being my own student?”  Beside bringing back a flood of unfortunate memories of my own schooling, it also stopped me in my prep tracks.  The answer was a resounding “No.”  I would have been that kid rolling their eyes at the teacher (yes, that happened daily), groaning every time a new group project was introduced (I hated group work),  and refusing to do homework out of sheer principle of boredom (and then argue with the teacher as to why it was pointless). Yikes, I am still that kid.  And so when a tweet by Jeremy MacDonald asked

“How do we get teachers past the teacher-centric use of tech? Modeling? Should I make them let me teach 30 mins in their classroom?” 

my mind started to spin.  Would simply asking teachers to sit through their own type of teaching, stop them in their tracks?  Or would the response be a more nuanced reflection discussing the need for various learning styles and types?  Or would we hear the stagnant adult claiming that, “they went through it so that is just how things are and to suck it up?”  I love that “suck it up” like school is just meant to be survived and not lived.

So how do we get teachers to rethink the traditional classroom setting?  Why is it we tend to forget our own school experience and then repeat it as teachers?  Why do most teachers come to teach prepared to speak most of the time?  I have been actively trying to stop talking and let me tell you, it is hard! Our curriculum is not set up for a lot of exploration, but rather mini activities packaged with a lot of careful monologue.  What is it about our way of educating that makes question-answer seem like the best fit?

So I start my own quiet revolution, using less words and still getting to the point.  Using less teacher-focused and more student-directed learning.  I even started thinking about it all as a learning process rather than how I am going to teach something.  In the end, we have to realize that if we want just test-taking students, then yes, talking at students will get us there.  If we want independent thinkers who are also creative and confident, then we have to stop talking.  So how do we stop talking?

authentic learning, being a teacher, discussion, Student-centered

An Opportunity for Discussion

Friday is Op.Ed. day in my room and I savor this chance to ask my students some of the questions I discuss with fellow teachers. Yesterday’s was “Should students have a say in what they have to learn about.” To see all of their answers, head over to our kidblog. After 15 minutes of writing I asked students to share and this is where the magic happened. Several students shared and then someone blurted out a question. Nervously, they glanced at me to see if I would stop or reprimand them. I kept quiet. Question was answered by another student, and a new one came. Again glances were shot my way; I remained quiet. Well, that really got them going.

For ten minutes I sat back and let my students discuss. The kids got out of their seats, used arm gestures to underscore points, and formed smaller clusters of talking groups. Their enthusiasm was contagious and a huge smile spread across my face. This is what we try to teach our students; how to discuss, how to form opinions, and how to respond properly in a conversation. I did not teach them this, I only gave them the opportunity to engage one another.

As a teacher, I have to equip my students with life skills and those include how to have a proper discussion. I stopped the class only because they went back into kid territory of getting upset with each other. This, though, was also a learning opportunity; how do you politely disagree? How do you carry on a large group discussion? My students quickly realized that one major rule was to not interrupt each other, something I have asked for all year. And yet now they got it. They figured out the why themselves and that will always be my favorite way for them to learn.

Sometimes it is not about what we teach but the opportunities we provide. The opportunities are what matter.

learning, students, technology, tools

The Tools We Use (and Those We Don’t)

                    Photo courtesy of I Can Read

As I get ready to write my second set of report cards, I realize 2/3’s of the year has passed and I have some very technology savvy 4th graders.  And by savvy I mean critical, knowledgeable, and demanding tech users.  So what has stood the test of time in our classroom and what has died a silent death:

Some Favorites:

  • Kidblog – hands down the most useful tool we have integrated this year.  Through this blogging platform we have reached out to more than 20 countries around the world, have had an intimate view of the revolution in Egypt and created an ongoing writing portfolio.  I cannot believe something like this is free.
  • Animoto – a tool favored by my students to present video or still pictures as a way to give an inside view of our days and of our doings.
  • Flip Camera’s – Our fantastic PTO donated 8 new cameras to our school through the Digital Wish buy 1 get 1 fee program and we have one permanently on loan in our room.  Students have created grammar videos, learning snapshots and just documented really cool things.  
  • Glogster – some of my students have the glogster bug, begging to create projects using this medium, and one even created his own glog Christmas contest.  They have gotten more creative, and better at citing through this site.
  • Google Suite – well duh, most might say, but my students have become very savvy Google users, taking initiative to search for life cycle of the crayfish when our crayfish exhibited some peculiar behaviors, as well as creating Google maps of students they speak to, and that is just the tip of the iceberg.  
  • Skype – oh yes, we skype and as the year progresses we do it more and more often.  From a quick check in with my husband (just to see what he is doing, they say) to classrooms around the world, we are bringing the world into our room.  Interested in skyping with us – let me know!
  • Wordle – ahh, yes we love our word cloud generator.  This tool has been used from everything to research, overused words, to poems about parents.  This free tool is pretty amazing.
  • Twitter – while my students are not on Twitter, this social phenomenon colors much of our every day learning.  From finding out about World Math Day to the Global Read Aloud Project, what I gain from Twitter is invaluable.
And some that seemed fun and then not so much:
  • Edmodo – this very cool social interaction site took off like wild fire and then died out with my students.  At first, they loved speaking to each other through the site from home and then they simply got bored.  Now, I think our last update was 2 weeks ago.
  • VoiceThread – I know of many educators that successfully implement this in their curriculum, but in my classroom, it wasn’t wort  it.  Perhaps it was because we didn’t have a paid for account and so it was rather limited usage or perhaps I didn’t give it enough of a chance, whatever the case, it has been months since we used it.
  • Voki – yes I know there is a Voki for education as well, and while my students loved creating avatars of their friends, saving and uploading them was cumbersome and time consuming.
  • ToonDoo – again, I do not have an educator account for this, which means I cannot provide the safe environment that I need for my students, however, students did do a test run and while some loved it, most found it ineffective and that they could do the same work by hand much easier.
What am I missing out on?  What do you love in your classroom?  What did you give up on?  Share, share, share.
being a teacher, being me, inspiration, listen, students, thank

Those Things We Carry

The shuffled movement, the slight look possibly from the left, a small gesture to be noticed. “Ummm, Mrs. Ripp can I have lunch with you?”. Oh shoot, there goes that extra prep, but yes, absolutely yes, let’s have lunch. Over food the words come tumbling like a bottle with it’s cork pulled. Didn’t even have to ask a question, they just spill out and out, away from this student, this trusting student that needs someone to carry the weight of the world with them. It is not new, not shocking, but every day life, every day fears, every day needs of wanting bigger, better, more. And yet here, it means the world.

We carry those words.

Another morning, a moment, a need for a hug and then a drawing shown. “Do you think I can make it, Mrs. Ripp?.” “Of course, you can, just dream and work toward it,” is what I say but what I think tells more. Work hard, little child, don’t believe those people who will try to steal your dream. Don’t believe those people that tell you you are not smart, that you will not amount to anything. Don’t listen when they make you angry, or when they make you cry. Dream, dream on, dream strong.

We carry those dreams.

At the end of the day, a mad rush, backpacks on, cubbies emptied, and one last “Thank you for coming.” I mean it too, thank you for being here, for sharing your day with me. For sticking with me when my voice got tired, or my explanation made no sense. For listening when I should have been quiet, for raising your hand patiently and waiting your turn even though you were really, really excited. Thank you for laughing, for thinking, for creating, and trying. Thank you for believing and caring, for trusting and loving, because that’s what it is; trust and love and hope and hard work, every single day.

They carry those teachers; us.

authentic learning, being a teacher, feedback, lessons learned, students

Hold Your Tongue – Why Feedback has to be Time Appropriate

    Today, as we practiced writing our weekend webs, the students had to focus on writing a catchy first sentence.  It all ties in with our major writing goals of better word choice and yet was still met with groans and eye rolls.  “But that’s hard, Mrs. Ripp” was expressed repeatedly.  “Absolutely,” I said, “And that is why we have to practice it.”  
 
After the 15 minutes of writing were up, I had students share just their opening sentence with the rest of the class.  As we went through each sentence, I stayed quiet beside the occasional “Nice” that slipped out.  These sentences were not created equal by any means.  Some were catchy, exciting, inviting and others were just ho-hum.  In the past, I would have given my honest opinion at each sentence, and yet today I held my tongue.  Instead of sharing my opinion to each individual, I asked the students whether they heard a difference in sentence quality.  All of them agreed and some even ventured that there were certain stories they would love to read right away.  A discussion then broke out as to the purpose of that first sentence.  Was it to explain everything such as “This Saturday, I went to the carnival” or was it to entice the reader?  This discussion would not have happened had I greeted each sentence with a comment.  Instead, I would have had some deflated students, unsure of what their next step should be.
Public criticism disguised as feedback is always something I avoid.  Not because I feel students should not be aware of what their goals are, in fact, we discuss this quite often in my classroom, but rather the public part of it.  Of course, there are times when public discussion does happen such as addressing inappropriate behaviors, or when the whole class is trying to learn from each other in a more deliberate way.  Just stating though that student’s work isn’t their best, is simply not doing them any good.  In this instance, I would not have had time to properly discuss ways to change their sentence, and I knew that some students would figure out theirs was not as strong if they simply heard the other ones that were.  So I am learning to be quiet, to be more deliberate in my delivery of learning, and to sometimes forgo it all together.
Feedback is one of our strongest tools but can also be one of our more damaging ones if handled inappropriately.  While you can easily build a child up by publicly praising their work, one misplaced comment can undo months of confidence as a writer, reader or student.  This goes for disingenuous praise as well; children will see right through it if you don’t mean it.  So as I continue to grow alongside my students I try to keep it simple, earnest, and meaningful.  Saying “good job” might work at that specific moment in time but the students learn nothing from it.  Just as saying “That wasn’t a great sentence” delivers no learning opportunity, we must be willful and deliberate in our words.  How do you handle feedback in your classroom?  What are you stopping doing?  Am I the only one on this word choice journey?