Be the change – Page 13

I started my newest book Passionate Readers with a chapter on teacher reading identity. At first, I couldn’t quite grasp why my brain kept going there, after all, this was meant to be a book for teachers, not about teachers. And yet, every time I went to write, my mind wanted me to write about teachers and the decisions we make. How our own reading experience colors every decision we make within our reading instruction and beyond. How our own school experience sneak into the way we teach, whether we are aware of or not. How the very essence of who we are influences everything we do.

Need proof? Look at your classroom library and search for your own reading gaps, books you don’t like to read, and then look at which books you are purchasing most of? Which ones are you not? I guarantee that part of your book gap comes down to your own reading preferences.

I started Passionate Readers with teacher identity because so much of what we do depends on who we are.

Depends on what we bring with us through our own experiences.

Depends on how we see ourselves in the world.

And yet, how often is our professional development focused on who we are?

How often are our conversations focused on what we need to change in ourselves, rather than what students need to change?

How often do we get multiple ideas for what students will experience or create without looking at the process we need to go through as professionals first?

How often do we spend lots of time learning about student’s needs, development, or even the latest greatest thing, without ever turning the lens inward?

How often would we rather embrace change when we are the ones implementing it rather than the ones experiencing it?

Yesterday, as we had a professional day in our district, I was reminded of the power of starting with teacher development, rather than what to do with students. To focus on who we are, what we bring, and how we need to change before we focus on more things to work on with students.

We have been going through an equity discussion throughout the year and rather than focus on all of the things we could be doing with students, we have been focusing on who we are as teachers, as people. We have focused on what we need to work on ourselves before we even dive into the work with our students.

It is powerful to start with ourselves, it is also super hard, even uncomfortable at times.

To realize my own implicit biases and how they color my worldview.

To realize how my own value system directly influences many of the small decisions I make every day.

To realize how much of who I am is what I rely on when I am making decisions that impact all of my students.

But all of the reflection, all of the discussion, the time to think, is what we need to do this work right. to not just pull out another lesson that will hopefully help our students when we haven’t done the work ourselves.

So to all of us who plan professional development. To all of us who are on our own journey. It is okay to start by looking at ourselves, in fact, it is necessary. Start with yourself before you ask for a change in your students.

And plan for it, make time for it, value it, and expect it. How can we possibly expect our students to grow under our care if we are not growing ourselves? And I don’t mean in having more strategies to apply, but truly growing as a human being that understands why they do what they do.

So play by the same rules we set forth for all students; take the time to reflect on who you are, how you want to grow, how you need to grow and then set a goal. Pursue your own change as you would that of your students.

Start with you before you start with them.

If you like what you read here, consider reading my newest book, Passionate Readers – The Art of Reaching and Engaging Every Child, out August 2017. This book focuses on the five keys we can implement into any reading community to strengthen student reading experiences, even within the 45 minute English block. If you are looking for solutions and ideas for how to re-engage all of your students consider reading my very first book Passionate Learners – How to Engage and Empower Your Students. Also, if you are wondering where I will be in the coming year or would like to have me speak, please see this page.

Be the change, being a teacher, student choice, student driven, Student Engagement, student voice, Student-centered

Ideas for Helping Students Raise their Voice

February 24, 2018 Pernille Ripp

Student voice-PixTeller-204654.jpg

My mother raised me to raise my voice. She raised me to believe that my voice mattered. That speaking up when I saw injustice was a part of my civic duty. To not take my position of power within my white privilege for granted but to recognize it and share it with others.

My teachers taught me I was different.

That I was too loud. Too opinionated. Too much.

That I was the bad child to be avoided.

That I needed to learn how to tone it down.

Lower my voice.

Speak less.

Let others speak before I added my voice.

If it wasn’t for my mother’s insistence that my voice mattered, I would have been a silent child.

A silent adult.

As I see students speak up in the aftermath of yet another horrific school shooting, I cannot help but be proud. This is why I teach the way I do. This is why I believe that what we do matters.

When we create learning communities that thrive on discussion. That thrives on student voice. That tell those we teach to speak up rather than to stay silent, this is when we are truly changing the future of this world.

So what can we as teachers do to encourage student voice? How can we make sure the very children we teach know that their voice is needed for a better future?

Let them speak.

While it sounds so simple for many of us, it is not. Afterall, faced with curriculum deadlines, content standards, and all of the things we need to do, there are times that we forget that teaching is not meant to be a performance of one, but a chorus of many. In fact, research indicates that teachers speak more than 60-75 % of the time. That leaves very little time for those we teach to find their own voice. So monitor your own. Ask a question and step back or better yet, ask the students to ask the questions and guide them along the way. This doesn’t start as they get older, this starts as they enter school.

Teach them to question.

Questioning is one of the single most powerful skills we can pass on to students. And yes that also means questioning us. Provide opportunities for them to question what they see, let them know that they should be questioning what they are learning, and show them through example that it is fine to question you, the authority in the room. I would rather have students who dare to speak than those who remain silent. We discuss how to question authority with respect, but also that you should fight for what you believe in.

Make room for debate.

I know it is scary at times to be a teacher in a heated political climate, at times, I feel like whatever I say feels like a loaded question, and yet, we must find ways to bring hard topics into our classrooms and then step aside. I tell my students that I am not here to shape their opinion, I am here to give them an opportunity to shape their own. They know our discussions are not about what I want them to believe but instead about them coming up with something to believe in and then fact-checking it. It is not enough to have an opinion, you must realize where it stems from.

Ask, “Now what?”

My wise friend, Dana Stachowiak, taught me to always ask, “Now what?” when I believe in something. She reminds me that forming an opinion is not the point, but doing something about it and continuing to question is. So when students write persuasive essays, when students discuss, when students uncover new information, ask them, “Now what?” What do you plan on doing with the information? What else do you need to learn? What can you do with this belief that you have?

Show them change.

I survey my students throughout the year about how I can be a better teacher. It is one of the best things I do. And yes, there are criticisms every single time I read the surveys, things I could do better. Things they would like to see me improve. And so I try when I can and we discuss the changes needed for the experience to be better for all of us, me included. When students see an adult, who does not have to listen to their voice because let’s face it nothing says we have to, actually listen to them and implement change because of them, they see the power of having a voice in the first place. This is vital for them to believe that they can be changemakers.

Support don’t punish.

I have been appalled at the districts that are telling students they will be suspended if they protest. Have we forgotten that this very nation was founded on the notion of protest and speaking up when we saw a wrong? Why we would tell students, who we teach about inequality, about courage, about sacrifice, that they cannot exercise their right to free speech, blows my mind. So instead of saying no, find a way to support. Show them where they can go to protest, show them how to do it safely. Step up as leaders of this future generation rather than the oppressive older generation, a cliché that has been held on to for too many years.

Create deeper learning opportunities for all.

Last weekend, I had the amazing opportunity to read the final draft of Sara Ahmed’s book Being the Change, a book being released on March 29th by Heinemann. Sara’s book ignited my already present fire to create further opportunities for students to dissect their own identity, to push their own knowledge boundaries, and find a way to bring the world in as part of our curriculum. This book is a game changer and provides a blueprint for us to do more with what we already do. Centering on student identity and not the teacher’s this book gives us the needed tools to create classrooms that are focused on social comprehension without dictating a political path. I am thankful that this book will be out in the world soon for all of us.

Don’t forget our purpose.

Education is to better our world, not to create better test takers. Education is to create a new generation of literate adults who question the world around them, who uncover information, who seek to right the wrongs of this world. To help children become complex thinkers and problem solvers, who strive to make this world a better place not just for themselves but for a society as a whole. That is not a political sentiment, but a humanitarian one. We must continue to do better. We are teachers of the children who will write the history of this world, so what type of history would we like them to create? One that echoes the dystopian novels that sit in our classrooms, or one that continues to focus on better for all?

For the past weeks, my students have looked to me and the other adults in our building for answers more than ever before. I have been asked how I will keep them safe, what our plan is in case the unthinkable happens, how I feel about what is going on in the world. I have done the best I can to share my own thoughts without scaring them, without forcing my opinion on them. And yet, I keep thinking about all of the things we already do; how our job as educators was never to be the sole voice in the classroom, but instead to help our students raise theirs. So how do I plan on keeping them safe, by making sure that they know they can change the world.

Be the change, being a teacher

Because We Teach

February 22, 2018 Pernille Ripp

How do you follow up a blog post that writes about how you don’t want to be a hero?

How do we adequately describe what it means to pick up the pieces and keep on teaching, even though it seems America has gone mad? Even though some people, including our president, are saying that we should be armed in order to protect the children we teach?

How do I write about all of the seemingly trivial components of what it means to be a teacher, what it means to teach, when once again we have been reminded we may be the single difference between a child feeling loved and a child feeling the need to kill.

Where I live we have had a threat in a school in our county every day in the past week. It doesn’t even feel surprising anymore.

And yet, as we walk through our doors our days continue to unfold. We slide back into the same old routines, but with a heightened sense of awareness. We truly look at our students, look them in the eyes, and we say thank you when they leave us for the hour, for the day.

We say good morning and mean it.

Ask them about their day.

Sit next to them as we re-teach, explain, and help where we can.

We look for warning signs but we also look for the good. We notice the good. We point out the good.

On my computer hangs a post-it note that says, “Which child are you giving up on?” Inspired by a conversation Lisa Meade shared, this simple note is my constant reminder that in our school we don’t give up on anyone. That in our school, we seek out all of the kids. That in our school we don’t want invisible children. That when we think we have done enough, there is always more to do.

That in our room, their presence matters. That they came, despite the obstacles that may have been in their way. That in this room, their presence makes my day better even if they are not sure others care.

So when we pick up the pieces after yet another mass shooting, we do so with care. We renew our vow to continue to be focused on kids first, teaching second. To take the time to truly get to know the kids we teach, not because someone told us we had to, but because we cannot imagine not knowing them. And we use the fear that may be following us into our rooms as a way to drive us all toward goodness.

We remember that because we teach we get to be a part of the conversation of what happens next.

That because we teach we get a choice to either focus on kindness, empathy, understanding and acceptance, rather than hate and mistrust.

That because we teach we get to have a say in how students view the world.

That because we teach we get to tell a child every single day that they matter.

That we are glad they are with us.

That we are proud of them and that they should be proud of themselves.

We remember that because we teach we have the power to change the future.

And that is how we pick up the fragile pieces once more and carry on toward a future that involves the very heart of this country.

A future that we have the power to make better.

Be the change, being a teacher, technology

The True Power of Technology

February 9, 2018 Pernille Ripp

He told me that this year he wanted a friend. Just one.

That other kids didn’t like him.

That they made fun of him. That they were mean. That they went out of their way to make him feel less than.

That perhaps he had no reason to be alive because no one seemed to care whether he lived anyway.

I told him we did.

He told me that he wanted to be a writer. That he had all of these stories to share. To create. But that no one would care, no one would read them anyway.

So we told him to write. Write on your blog whatever you want. Share your story and I will amplify it for you. And so he did. He wrote about a prince and his mission. Asked me to please send it out. “Will anyone like it?”

So I did and they did. Teachers and students left comments urging him to write more. To not leave them waiting for the next installment. I approved every comment.

He came to me the very next day, “Did you see it, Mrs. Ripp? They really like me…I must write more.”

And for that moment he saw himself as a writer. As someone worth knowing. Not the child that others found strange, or angry, or unfit to be a friend to. A writer with words that mattered.

And so he wrote. And he believed that he, too, mattered.

She came to us wearing cat ears. Then a tail. A big jester’s hat.

Her laugh was loud but you didn’t it hear it much. After all, no one else seemed to get the jokes.

She would go on and on about games she played online. Filling our ears with Minecraft terms that I had no idea about. I saw the eye rolls from other kids. The ones who chose not to be at her table. The ones that whispered.

And we spoke about kindness as if the kids hadn’t heard it all before.

She asked if she could write whatever she wanted and we told her of course.

And so she wrote about Minecraft. The place where she felt like others got her. The place where she felt that she had value. Where others saw her as indispensable and not just as that weird girl.

And so she wrote, Minecraft fanfiction, I had trouble following it and yet her passion, her creativity marked her words. And so I shared, the least I could do, and the very next day she had 85 comments from kids around the world telling her to write more. To tell them more. Asking her to be their friend.

She would come up to me to tell me about her latest installment. About her newfound fans. She knew that at our school perhaps many wouldn’t see past the hat, the tail, the laugh, but online, she was something. I told her she was something to us as well.

At the end of the year, she wrote a speech detailing how friends found online were true friends. How sometimes you needed the online world to make you feel found. That she had found her community in the games she played, in the worlds she created. That she would have never felt as accepted, as valued, as she did online.

That technology meant that she was more than what those face-to-face saw her as.

We bring in technology thinking it will add the next level skills to our classrooms. That technology will help our teaching come alive, our curriculum have a deeper meaning. That it may “hook” the kids as if they are fish, keep them engaged, get them ready for the future.

And yes, those are valid reasons.

But the true power in technology is not just the readiness. The skills. The playing around with tools to create something impossible.

It is the power to be seen.

To not be alone.

To feel that in the world, someone values you. That someone out there gets you.

Our oldest daughter cemented her best friendship through Minecraft. They play together, side by side, and it drew them tighter together as Thea faced the bullies at her school.

When I think of technology, I don’t just see it as a tool. I see it as a way for kids to be seen. For kids to be found. For kids to not be alone. And for adults too.

Someone out there values us. Someone out there, who wonders whether they have worth, is waiting for all of us. Technology means we don’t have to be alone anymore.

Be the change, being a teacher

Unintended Consequences

January 27, 2018January 27, 2018 Pernille Ripp

“But I don’t have to read, Mom, it’s Friday.”

Our daughter looks at us with fire in her eyes, refusing the graphic novel I am holding toward her.

“What do you mean, it’s Friday, what does this have to do with anything? Of course, you are going to read, we always read.”

“Not on Friday’s…”

“Why not?”

“Because my teacher tells me I don’t have to do any homework…”

And so my daughter, the reader, refused to read when I asked. Every weekend, every time. All because in her mind, reading was homework and if her teacher said they did not have to do any homework, then they did not have to do any reading. Have I ever shared that my daughter is as stubborn as me?

Now the funny thing is, I know that her teacher did not mean to not read. She had, instead, declared to the students that she did not want to give them homework for the weekend. A policy we loved. Our daughter just took it a step further, and no reading over the weekend became an unintended consequence of an otherwise marvelous policy.

And so the thing is, I find myself wondering about unintended consequences and how often do they play out in our classrooms and we just don’t see them? Or worse, we refuse to see them wrecking real havoc under the surface. We refuse to see how these little decisions we have made with the best of intentions, actually end up doing more harm than good and then hope that maybe our experiences are simply wrong and at some point, students will, surely, be fine?

Take reading logs for examples. I used to have students do reading logs with parent signatures, because I thought that’s what you did for reading homework. The reading logs gave me a quick way to see who read at home. To see their practice, or so I thought. I used them as a way to reward, to praise, to even separate those who did from those who did not. My intentions were noble; reading logs meant accountability and accountability meant more time spent reading. This had to surely be a good thing, and yet, what I had failed to notice was how reading logs meant reading for some was now something they measured in minutes, eager to shut the book once they got to the 20 minutes. Eager to fulfill their duty and not read until the next night required it. Reading logs now meant that if they didn’t have a signature then they surely must not have read, that perhaps parents were not as invested as I had first assumed they were. Reading logs meant I had “good” kids who followed the requirements and “bad” kids who bucked the system. Reading logs meant that our conversations changed; it wasn’t about loving reading, it was about why the reading log was not filled out or why they didn’t read more at home. It was about how I couldn’t just take their word for it, I had to have the proof, even if I thought some of those signatures didn’t really mean what they were supposed to mean.

I had never intended for this to happen, but it did. Unfrotunately, it took me several years of using them to understand the damage they were doing for some kids.

And that’s it.

How many other systems and procedures do we put in place without really examining the unintended consequences of these procedures? How often do we follow the system rather than question it simply because we are not sure where to even start with our questions? How often do we not pilot something but instead implement it as law, never to look back and examine whether it actually did more good than harm?

How often do we leave systems and procedures in place because they are not inherently, or glaringly, that bad, and so we may as well just leave them in place?

Our kids deserve more than this. They deserve for us to ponder. To question the very foundations that we put in place for our classrooms to function, for our schools to operate. They deserve for us to start questioning everything, even if it takes time. They deserve for us to realize that we are, indeed, just human and that as humans we sometimes make flawed decisions where we fail to see what we really have decided.

A constant factor of education is change, so why not initiate it ourselves? Why not start the line of questioning with the very practices we implement ourselves so that we may uncover the truth about how they really work? Why not examine our unintended consequences and do something about the things we already have in place, rather than always searching for the new?

Be the change, being a teacher, Literacy, Reading

On Which Reading Program to Purchase

January 22, 2018January 23, 2018 Pernille Ripp

I was recently asked if I could give a 2-minute answer to which reading program would be best for a district. While I was flummoxed at first; 2 minutes, that’s not enough time to discuss the needed components?! I quickly realized that I really don’t need even two minutes to answer this question, because here’s the thing…

If a program does not leave time for independent reading every day – don’t buy it.

If a program does not leave space for students to self-select their books independent of their level or Lexile at any time – don’t buy it.

If a program does not leave room for teacher’s to adapt it to the needs of their students – don’t buy it.

If a program tells you that students should sit in front of a computer every single day to be successful – don’t buy it.

If a program is based on short segments of texts, filled with lots and lots of things to do, with no room to build stamina or to go beyond the obvious in their answers – don’t buy it.

If a program dictates that every single teacher must follow every single lesson with fidelity or their students will not be successful – don’t buy it.

So what should we look for instead?

A program that supports choice, independent reading time, small group, one on one conferring, as well as lessons for ideas.

A program that focuses on the needs of the individual as much as the needs of the group.

A program that leaves teachers and students alike thinking that reading and being a reader is something good.

A program that builds hope for all readers to be readers. That balances out between reading for skill and reading for pleasure. A program with an emphasis on developing reader identity as well as reader skill. A program that doesn’t kill the love of reading but instead bolsters it.

That is the program you should buy. And then don’t ever forget that fidelity should always remain to the students and not to the program itself to quote my Assistant Superintendent, Leslie Bergstrom.

And if you are not sure if that is the program you have; ask the very students who are forced to endure it. Ask the teachers who have to implement it. Ask the caregivers and parents who hear the stories. They will always tell you the answer if you are ready to hear it.

Ps: Wondering what research says about best practices in reading instruction? Here are a few articles; one from NAESP, one from ILA and one from NCTE