Category: being a teacher

being a teacher, believe, making a difference

How Do You Know You Made a Difference?

Pernille 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 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.

being a teacher, being me, Lesson Planning, Student-centered, teaching

Simplify

Pernille Ripp
As I prep for the upcoming week of lessons, I find myself cutting ideas out and slimming things down.  I am simplifying my lessons.  And not because I am “dumbing” them down, not at all, instead I am offering my students the luxury of only having to focus on key concepts rather than overwhelming them with all the bells and whistles.

In order for my students to take ownership of the learning they have to understand what they are owning.  They have to be able to take an idea, make it their own and then push it through.  if I add too many components to something, they will end up confused, bogged down, or just plain bored.

In college I was taught to make it exciting, to add visuals, support, brainstorming sheets and even hand signals.  I now rebel against that notion of having to add more every time. Perhaps that is why I am no longer a supporter of IWB’s in every classroom.  I don’t need to be more interactive, my students do.

So this week, I am cutting back all the extras.  I am focusing on what the goal is and letting students add their distinctive spins on it.  I will have supports ready if needed but I will not assume they need them.  I will speak less and engage more.  Simplify my teaching = expand their learning.  I am excited.

This post was partially inspired by this excellent post written Josh Stumpenhorst @stumpteacher.

being a teacher, being me, students

When the Day is Tough

Pernille Ripp

No matter the noise, no matter the distractions, no matter how perhaps one lesson didn’t go quite as expected. There is always something good to see, something wonderful to praise, and something that deserves to be recognized.

When the day has been rough and the kids have been tough, take the time to huddle. Take the time to relish the good moments because no matter what, they are there, waiting to be discovered, waiting to be remembered and shared.

So take a deep breath, gather them on the carpet, and ask them to share that one good thing from the day. Go around the circle, come back to those that need extra time, and then smile. Twenty-three golden moments all out in the open; the day couldn’t have been that bad after all.

aha moment, behavior, being a teacher, inspiration, Student-centered

Teach To Fit Your Students, Not You

Pernille Ripp

Monday was a chatty day. One of those days where no matter what you do, the kids just cannot settle down and focus. One of those days where I would have moved a lot of sticks and gotten a lot of points. Except this day, I didn’t. There are no sticks to move, names to write or points to take in my room, and sometimes that is hard. You see, when you can punish students for a behavior they often change their demeanor for a short time. Punishment leads to submission and the day can keep moving. However, punishment also means that nothing corrective takes place or valuable for that student. So I don’t punish anymore.

And yet the kids, who are usually so on track, just had a hard time. Whether it was because of the impending blizzard, being tired, or one child starting the talk wave, I don’t know. But teaching proved difficult. In earlier years, I would have ended the day lamenting about how the students didn’t work hard or had problems focusing. Instead, this year I turned my glance inward and thought about how I could accommodate their jitteriness, their talkativeness, their seeming inability to it still too long. How could I change my teaching to make it a great day?

So Tuesday, I came prepared. We had decks of cards as manipulatives for math and the kids did most of the talking as we figured out probability. My planned lesson for literacy for our author study was switched to one about choral reading where the students had to create and perform their first ever choral read poem. We stayed focused on the day through small talk breaks discussiing the probability of a snow day. We spoke about our fifth grade friends in Egypt, we checked in on the live feed to an eagles nest, we took small body breaks stretching and then worked hard. That afternoon, we were able to feed our crayfish, clean their tanks and then have a small study hall with multitudes of choices. We ended with an exciting math game with our first grade reading buddies.

At the end of the day, I was unstressed. We had accomplished what we set out to do and we had also had a good day. The students had worked with their distractedness and made it a strength rather than, well, a distraction. I had realized that it is not my job to force my student into the learning, but instead shape my learning to accommodate my students. It is indeed not about me, but about them, and that is the most mportant thing to remember.

alfie kohn, being a teacher, blogging, rewards

I am a Hypocrite

Pernille Ripp
Today I had one of those great thought moments that can only happen during deep professional and personal reflection.  George Couros, a principal I admire, did some thinking out-loud on my latest blog post, a follow up to another post on behavior.  Part of his comment is shown below:


I am going to challenge you a bit on this post, but not necessarily on its content. I noticed that you listed some stats on how many hits you have had, retweets, etc.. I also noticed that you listed that “Alfie Kohn” commented on it (like it was some kind of award that he did that). You have also written how you were disappointed that you did not get an edublog award: (http://mrspripp.blogspot.com/2010/12/im-loser.html)

With the listing of these stats (kind of like marks) and discussion of awards, are you somehow showing that you have a part of you driven by the same thing that you are saying we should take away from students in the classroom?

Just some food for thought. I think that your posting discussing the importance of intrinsic motivation and not extrinsic motivators is contradicted by use of the stats of your blog hits and retweets.

Is there room for both to drive us? I know I have a twitter counter on my own blog posts and love recognition.

Part of my response to George was this:

George, what a great comment that really made me think early this morning. I think your questions prove avery valid point for me; we as adults struggle for the same recognition as our students do. However, the reason why I listed those stats etc with this particular post was because it showed that somehow this particular post really struck something in people, which I had no idea it would. I never expect anyone to read my blog so the fact that that many people took the time to share or read shows that this a debate that many others are either thinking about or engaged in.

So all day I wondered; was I indeed a hypocrite (not that George implied it, I label myself that way)?  Had I published those statistics and name dropped because I too craved recognition and reward from my peers?  Could I possible be wanting the same thing that I despise so much in my own classroom?  The answer is not easy to come up with.  On one hand, I really do not seek out recognition but rather reflection, however, on the other hand, do I obsessively look at my blog counts to see if I matter?  Is that what it really comes down to?  

Perhaps when we look at our blog visits or comments received, we are really looking for some sort of validation that there are others like us out there.  That we are not alone in this educational ocean where the tide continuously shifts.  Perhaps, when a lot of people respond to a post we have found an island on which others seek refuge as well.  Perhaps, the need for recognition is so intrinsically ingrained in us that we can never truly escape it no matter how much we try.

I am not perfect, which thankfully no one has ever accused me of being.  I struggle publicly with many of my own teaching practices and choose to chronicle this struggle in order to give myself clarity from a distance.  I wish I could be 100% staunch anti-reward, but I am not, I still praise my students for great behavior, amazing work or just being all around fantastic kids.  Some would consider that a reward as well.  What I am opposed to, though, are the public reward ceremonies, the in-class recognition of only the best and brightest, rather than different categories where all children can be celebrated.  So perhaps I am a hypocrite, but at least I am a hypocrite who is willing to share their thoughts.