Author: Pernille Schmidt Ripp

Since 2010, I have lived my teaching life outloud, writing, speaking, and sharing the great, the okay, and the sometimes not so great. Starting as a 4th grade teacher in Middleton, Wisconsin, then heading to the middle school for many years, in 2022 I moved back home to Denmark to try teaching primary grades. Because why not? But I also started the Global Read Aloud in 2010, a global literacy project that has connected millions of children across the world. I also write books trying to help others co-create sustainable student-centered learning spaces, and I share my life on Instagram, in both English and Danish.
being a teacher, inspiration, Student-centered

Some Concrete Changes

Pernille Schmidt Ripp
Every day, I catch myself.  I catch myself before I say “stop,” or “quiet,” or “teacher point.”  Those old habits dies hard, but every day I fight them and I renew my commitment to my students.  It is because of them I stop myself, it is because of them I am changing my ways every single day, ever lesson, every minute.  They deserve more, better, and sometimes even less.

So what have I changed, my big things I have documented, but there are so many little things as well, and they add up:

  • No more stay in your desk.  I used to have designated work time where students could leave their desk, now they can get up and move somewhere closer while I am speaking or while something else is happening.  I have a lot less squinting and fiddling going on now.
  • No more sending kids to the office.  I used to send kids to the office sometimes, feeling frustrated and not quite sure how to handle situations.  While this may also be because of my incredible class, I have had to send one 2 students all year for situations that were bigger than just my classroom.  Now I ask students to take a break, think about their actions and we find the time to talk.  So far so good.
  • No more set projects (well almost anyway).  Now when students ask if they can do a different type of project I always think “Why not?”  Often their ideas are much stronger than what I am coming up with anyway.
  • No more silent in the hallways.  As adults we converse quietly as we walk in the hallways, my students get to do the same.  This doesn’t mean loud voices or out of control behavior.  They use whisper voices and are getting adept at walking like adults do.
  • No more assuming I know why.  I used to assume all of the time, why a student didn’t do something, know something, or did something.  Now I ask instead; their explanations are way better than my assumptions.
  • No more “My classroom and you are just visiting.”  The students take care of the classroom because it is theirs.  Granted my level of orderliness may be a little higher than theirs but they stp up when they need to.
  • No more “My Goal.”  We are learning together and so the goals are all of ours.  We discuss our goals of learning, why they are set and how we can achieve them.  I may be the that knows the direction but we can all steer. 
being a teacher, being me, life, Passion, students

I Am a Teacher

Pernille Schmidt Ripp
I am a teacher.  I have been ever since I realized that this was my life’s calling, my passion unfolded, my dream in life.  I don’t become a teacher when I show up at school at 7 AM and then turn it off when I leave hours after my contract time ends.  I am a teacher every minute of the day, every day of the year, with every breath I take.

I am passionate about teaching.  I spend hours every day at home thinking of how I can reach my children better (the students are all my children), how I can make their day better, how I can enrichen their lives.  I discuss, reflect, and I dream bigger, better, and more every day.  I lead, I comfort, I support, and I dare to believe in all of my students and what they can offer to the world.

I love my students.  I ride with them through their journeys in life; when they celebrate I cheer with them, when they grieve, I cry with them.  But more importantly, I teach them.  Every day they show up to school and even if they don’t, I always continue teaching.  I see my job as an honor, as something only a select few do really well.  My job is not just a job, it is who I am.

Teachers are not made in college, they become them in the classroom.  Teachers reach out to anyone that enters their worlds, and they impact every single aspect of this American life.  Support them, cherish them, and right now, fight for them and their rights.  We are here to help America succeed and grow, not to take the blame.

being a teacher, boring, inspiration, Lesson Planning, lessons learned

Today I was Boring

Pernille Schmidt Ripp
I love Mondays.  They are loud, a little bit crazy, and always exciting.  My students are tapping their feet, their are sharpening their pencils and asking a million questions about what we are doing this week and when are we going to get to do this really cool thing?  The noise can be kind of intimidating to cut through but then you realize that it is excitement, not just chatter, and it becomes a different beast to maneuver altogether.

Today, I was boring, though.  I had my lessons planned, even with discussion questions, extra surprises and movie clips.  And yet, I fell flat.  During social studies, where I was teaching the writing of the Constitution, I yawned.  And you know if the teacher is bored, then imagine what the students feel.  So I stopped.  I put the book down that I was reading aloud and then asked them what questions they had.  A little bit of perking up.  Then I asked them to write on the board everything they knew about the office of the president, some motion and activity.  Then I started to drone on again – moment lost.

I don’t know what it was today.  I had a long night with my daughter with croup, my mind is heavy with the scary legislation vote looming over us, and I didn’t take the time to think this morning.  I have a pretty set morning routine where I get in 1 hour and 15 min early, turn on my music, jam to that while I clean, pull out, discuss, give hugs to colleagues and just focus.  Today I had no music, ran around, got visited by students early, stopped by a great Valentines Day breakfast and just spoke a lot of politics  By the time the bell rang, I was ready physically not mentally.

And what a difference that makes!  All day I played catch up, tried to find my brain – it must be around somewhere – and just made it through.  That is not what teaching is supposed to be like; surviving.  So I wonder; what do others do when the lesson isn’t working?  Do you throw it out?  Stop and do something else entirely or just lumber through it?  I felt I robbed a great moment in history from my students today, something that I cannot get back.  So when your brain disappears and the day just seems to happen to you, what do you do to put it back on track?

I, for one, am going to bed early, charging my Ipod, getting my red shirt ready (all union workers are wearing red to show unity this week) and packing chocolate in my lunch tomorrow.  I will not let my students down like this again.

being a teacher, education reform, government

Dear Scott Walker

Pernille Schmidt Ripp
I can’t afford to be a teacher anymore, at least not if what is proposed here in Wisconsin gets passed.  Don’t get me wrong, I am not a teacher because of the money, I am not a fool after all, but if I lose 17% of my already insanely low salary, I cannot afford to remain a teacher.

I cringe at saying those words aloud, but the facts remain, if I want my child to go to daycare so that my husband and I can work to pay for our bills, then teaching does not let me do that.  We speak of wanting another child, yet know that on my salary today, it would be a far stretch with extra hours picked up wherever possible.  If my salary is cut, there will be no second child, no house mortgage and certainly nothing extra.

So the debate within me begins; can I give up what I so passionately believe that I was meant to do?  Do I even have a choice anymore if my salary is reduced and frozen?  I have been willing to sacrifice almost all of my social life to dedicate myself to the craft of teaching, but at some point, the realization hits that it will not just be time I am sacrificing but the ability to pay our bills.

So dear governor of Wisconsin, you may think that you are solving the problems, but who will you get to teach the children?  Who will have the luxury of being a teacher when they cannot afford to anymore? You speak of us as if we are using the system, stealing money from children who need health insurance, while you cut taxes for businesses.  Who will educate the future workers of Wisconsin?  Who will buy the goods of all those companies you lure to our state at the promise of less money taken from them?  Who will want to raise their children here when we slash funding and stifle the voice of teachers.  We do not have a lot, but what we have, you want to take away.

So that is where I stand.  Blamed for the deficit, blamed for why we cannot beat China in test scores, and blamed for why America is slipping in its world rankings.  One teacher with all the blame at her feet.  I wonder what will happen when the teachers cannot be blamed anymore, who will be next?

being a teacher, believe, making a difference

How Do You Know You Made a Difference?

Pernille Schmidt Ripp

How do you know you made a difference? Is it the test scores? The grades? The parent approval? Or your principal giving you a thumbs up? Is it the highlights? The low moments? The tears? Or the smiles? Maybe it’s the hugs? Or the excitement? The introductions and the goodbyes?

Or perhaps, just perhaps, it is the people. The kids, the conversations, the handwritten cards. Your self-satisfaction from knowing you tried your hardest. The tiredness that comes from focusing on something you know is important. Perhaps it is the kind words sent your way, a friendly gesture, or a friendly hello. Maybe a plea for help or an offer of assistance shows you made a difference. Maybe someone letting you try that new thing or even that old tried and true thing. Maybe somebody simply believing in you or letting you try again after you failed. Maybe that means you made a difference. Or maybe, just maybe, believing you are making a difference is all that it takes to make it come true. Maybe if you believe in yourself enough you will know that it matter, that it all counts, and that the kids are noticing. Maybe then you will know you are making a diffence.

being a teacher, college, education

What I Didn’t Learn in College

Pernille Schmidt Ripp

I was an adult student, attending college in all of my seriousness, so eager to learn everything there was to know on how to be a teacher. I wanted to be good, great even, and I studied, and I planned, and I reflected my little heart out. And then I graduated, got my first teaching job and realized that I had very little idea of what it meant to really be a teacher.

So what I didn’t learn in college is really quite a lot. I didn’t learn how to gain my students’ trust, interest or even attention. Instead I learned systems of control, of management, of planning that would force students to listen. I didn’t learn how to teach a child that consistently gets 5 hours of sleep every night because of parent job situation and therefore puts his head down on his desk every day. I learned that that child better pay attention to me because that is what children are spposed to do.

I didn’t learn how to care about my students, this was meant to be a given, and not taken for granted. I didn’t learn how to strip away all the layers and show the true meaning of the lessons being taught. I didn’t learn to adapt at the start of a tantrum or the twist of an interesting conversation. I didn’t learn to love them all, no matter their roughness or demeanor.

I didn’t learn to change myself, to be humble, and to realize that this journey is not about my teaching but the students’ learning. I didn’t learn that there are at least five different ways to explain something, or in my case, at least twenty, because every student explains it their own perfect way. I didn’t learn that often the simplest idea, lesson, or decision can make for the most meaningful moments.

I didn’t learn how to be great, or even how to be good. I learned how to save paper, be efficient, and to plan, plan, and plan some more. I learned how to find sources, and ask for help, but not who to ask it of. I learned how to plan for the fictitious child with special needs, the unplannable, or even the out there. And so there are many things I didn’t learn in college but I am not so sure you can. Teaching has to be experienced to be learned, not just read about, discussed and debated.

A great teacher is not something you are just taught to be in college, pushed to be through test scores, or coached to become through observations, it is something you become through your experience, reflection, and everyday life. I wish, I had been taught that in college.