Category: being a teacher

being a teacher, conferences, learning, new teacher, parents, students

Let Them Speak – Why Student Led Conferences are the Right Choice

Pernille Ripp
I admit it; yesterday morning even I thought I was crazy.  I was getting ready to unleash my students in their first student led conferences and with no experience to fall back upon, those 24 super nervous students were freaking me out.  And then something magical happened; it worked!  The students took their parents through an eloquent journey of their learning, and more importantly, flaunted their knowledge while setting new goals for themselves.  I am sold.This beauty of the student-led conference was not something invented by me; in fact, many people have blazed the trail on this and I have even heard of kids as young as 1st grade leading their own conference.  Therefore when I decided this year that the classroom was no longer all about me, I was intrigued by the idea of also “allowing” students to run their own conferences.  Every year, I am exhausted and exhilarated after these.  Exhilarated, because it is a thing of beauty to discuss success, progress and goals with parents – exhausted because I talked and talked for 20 minutes a kid two or three nights in a row. Although students have always been required to be at their conference with me (why discuss them if they are not there to hear it) they were never really engaged.  Conferences for them were a way for me to tell their parents how they were doing, and as such, a passive act for them, something they were required to listen to but not be full participants in.  This year,  I knew it had to be different.Always a believer in preparation, I decided that much as I prepare for conferences so must my students.  We therefore discussed the purpose of them until everyone understood that conferences were there to show off their learning, not as a form of punishment or “telling” on them to their parents.  Then came the real work; what would they discuss?  I knew that these kids had never led a conference before and so they needed an agenda.   Students therefore received a 2-sided agenda from me with what I expected them to discuss. (Another valuable life skills happens to be how to lead a successful meeting so this proved practice in that as well).  They were given time in class to take notes for their conference if they felt they needed that to guide them; some did but not all, and they were able to ask any clarifying questions of the agenda and curriculum we had covered.  Students were also asked to self-assess both their writing and grade themselves.  I have to give them letter grades on their report card, even if I would prefer not to, and so they were asked to translate their performances and knowledge into grades.  It was eye-opening to see how harsh they could be when judging themselves.  Once students felt that they had everything prepared, we met to go over their papers.  They were given a folder in which they could place anything they wanted to show at the conference, including their notes.  And then we waited…

Our final question session was yesterday right before the first conference was to be held.  Students all placed their conference folders in a safe spot and took a deep breath.  I showed no nerves, even though inside I was second-guessing this decision with every teacher-bone in my body.  It wasn’t that I thought students couldn’t do it, but more that I wondered whether parents would get it.  Would they see that this wasn’t just a way for me to “get out of” conferences, but rather a much better way for the same information to be delivered?  I am glad I was proven so wrong.

While some students did better than others, 1 never showed up, and 3 parents forgot to bring their kids, it was still incredible to hear and see the kids share their learning.  Parents were given a recommended question sheet but most did not need it.  They knew which questions to ask their children and I became what I should be; an accessory to the conversation.  I jumped in when clarification was needed or if a child judged themselves too harshly.  Otherwise I helped guide a little and then just listened and what I learned was so valuable.  I got a better grip on how secure some of my students were than I could have ever gotten from just observing them in the classroom or let alone given them a worksheet.  I also got to see another side of my students as they spoke to their parents, in essence representing themselves as members of my class to the outside world.  I know what I have to repeat in class and what students get.  I know what has made an impression on them and what I should skip next year.  But the best part of all of this was the pride these kids took.  And not just in their work, or their grades, but in doing the conference themselves.  The parents noticed too and I therefore must declare these my most successful conferences to date. I am thankful for the advice given to me regarding student-led conferences and I hope this will inspire others to try it as well.  If you let your students lead; you will be amazed.  I know I was, and for that I am thankful (and proud!).

I have all of the forms I use available here

being a teacher, community, connections, inspiration

Hey Mrs. Ripp…

Pernille Ripp

Dear Fabulous 4th graders,
When I look at you in the morning, I see the future. Bright eyes, some anyway, bushy-tailed, again some not all, but eager. Kids that are genuinely excited to at least be at school even if math for an hour and 15 minutes isn’t at the top of their list for fun things to do right away in the morning. Yet there you are, letting me in and wanting me to know about you and your dreams. And you let me in; it is amazing what you share: “Hey Mrs. Ripp, I stayed up until 1 AM last night! Mrs. Ripp, guess what? What? I threw up after eating too much candy last night, it was orange. Mrs. Ripp, my parakeet died last night.” And every day I am grateful for what you share, for the smiles you give, for the voices you raise whenever you have the courage to.

And that’s it for me. The draw of being a teacher. The trust you give me every day, the genuine emotions that are exhibited whether good or bad; there is no curtain. I don’t ever take it for granted, it is a gift, something to be in awe of and cherish. The magic of teaching for me comes when that moment occurs that not only do you “get” something, but you “get” me, us, the classroom, and you trust it. Trust isn’t easy to give when you are a 4th grader already hardened and partially jaded to the world from bad playground experiences and horrid classroom memories. Trust is something we hope to earn as teachers, never something to be taken for granted or forced. trust comes through sharing with the students, opening yourself up and letting those kids into your life a little bit. Then it’s my turn to say, “Hey kids, guess what? What? I am sorry I was out yesterday but I was so sick. Did you throw up? Yeah maybe. Was it orange…?”

being a teacher, blogging, kids, no homework, rewards, students

If I Were a Teacher – Reflections from Students

Pernille Ripp

Ah from the mouths of students.  Every week I challenge my students to blog asking them various questions.  This week I thought why not ask them how they would run their classroom?  What do they love when we do and what would they change.  Well the answers are in and they are very revealing (and not so surprising after all).

  • No Homework.  The consummate complaint is that teachers give too much of it, that it is too hard, or even worse that it is boring and/or pointless.  We know this probably from our own school experience, so why is it most of us ( and I used to be one) feel the absolute requirement to prescribe homework?  Students already give you at least 6 some hours of their day, how about we give them a break and let them enjoy life a bit?
  • Rewards, candies, and parties.  Yes, students want to be rewarded and they do not know why.  No students wrote how they would “earn” said rewards but many pointed out that parties were the best thing about school.  Makes me sad to think that with all of the amazing learning going on, the parties we throw are the ones that kids remember.  So how do we change that?
  • More spelling tests.  Ok, that one was a surprise.  I have a couple of girls that love spelling and so for them a perfect classroom means more spelling tests.  Preferably on Thursdays when their minds are still fresh.  I am still thinking about that one.
  • More creativity.  Students don’t want to show us their progress through another worksheet (well, some do but many don’t).  Students want to create.  So my students are asking for more creative projects.  I cannot wait for them to see the Native American Battle simulation I am working on right now.
  • Rules.  Not the rules you set up, but rules they come up with.  This year I do not have rules posted on the walls but we discuss them a lot.  Especially trust and just how important it is in our classroom.  It shows again that students crave structure with some freewill embedded and gives me a good reminder that we need to have another class meeting to discuss norms.
And then the compliment.  Almost all of my students had to share just how amazing I am as their teacher and while I certainly appreciate the compliment I also wonder about it.  The challenge did not say anything about me or rating my performance but rather what they would do themselves if they were a teacher.   When are students taught that they must tell you that you are their favorite teacher or that you rock?  I always tell my students that they do not have give me compliments unless they mean them but whenever I mention teachers, there it is, “well, you are my favorite one.” Oh if it really were so, I will settle with being one they like and not let the rest go to my head.
If you would like to see the blogging challenge (blogging challenge 3) and their thoughts on tests (blogging challenge 2) as well go to our class blog.  While you are there, leave us a comment.  They love to hear from others and we mark you on our map as well.
aha moment, assumptions, being a teacher, believe, community, homework, hopes, role model, students

They are Someone’s Child – Tania’s Aha Moment

Pernille Ripp

This last aha moment is shared to me by the prolific can-doer Tania Ash, whose newly minted blog I have a feeling will be a must read and who is also a must follow on Twitter at @tcash. Tania was a person who reached out early to me in my Twitter experience because that is just how she works. Always looking to welcome new teachers into the experience, always there to support, and as one of the founders of the wonderful #elemchat held on Thursday nights she has been a fantastic resource in my PLN. As a 5th grade teacher in Morocco, she is never afraid to connect with others both herself and with her students. This aha moment speaks deeply to me as I have gone through this same transformation. Thank you Tania for sharing it with the rest of us and also for rounding out our aha moment guest series with such a heartfelt piece.

When I was asked to write about my a-ha moment, I must admit that I had mixed feelings. Coming from an educator I respect and admire so much, a prolific writer whose blog represents not only a wealth of ideas, but also thought-provoking, deep reflection; after the initial excitement, my first fear was that of falling short. My second, was to find the perfect a-ha moment among myriad possibilities.

There have been so many a-ha moments along the way. How to choose a single one? My life, my choices, haven’t exactly followed the most typical itinerary.

There could be the moment when, after dropping out of school in grade 13 and following a boy to another continent, I decided I wanted to work in an elementary school and became an assistant in a 2nd grade classroom.

Or the moment, 3 years later, when I decided that I wanted to go back to school and become a teacher. It could be any number of moments with some of the inspiring educators I had the honour to work with, from the 2nd grade teacher who opened the door to the world of teaching (and continues, to this day, to be both my mentor and best friend), to the 3rd and 5th grade teachers who opened up their classrooms, filing cabinets and plan books when they kindly agreed to act as my cooperating teachers during my student teaching… those were unforgettable moments that shaped the teacher I was to become.

It could be the moment when, after serving as the technology coordinator in my school, I realized that I longed for my own class where I could be a pedagogue and plan learning experiences from start to finish, and not just content myself with being the “tech” of someone else’ project.

That said, one of the moments that most profoundly impacted my teaching came from the most unexpected sources. Well, it was unexpected to me at least. It wasn’t in any textbook in the teacher-training program, it wasn’t in any student-teacher internship programs, nor part of any of the countless workshops and conferences I’ve attended over the years. It was a transformation that started small, and then began to grow. It isn’t a particular moment per se, but a collection of moments that started the day my son was born. The day I became a parent and got my first glimpse at the other side of the fence was the day I began to be a better teacher.

At first, it was just the realization of how powerful parenthood is…
As an educator, I’d always loved and valued children, but as a mother, I found out what that really meant. For the first year after my son was born, I found I couldn’t watch any news or read any newspapers. Every time there was a story about a suffering child, it touched me as if those children, in faraway lands, were *mine*. Today, when I meet my 5th grade students and their families in the first days of the school year, I can immediately visualize those nights when those parents tiptoed into their child’s bedroom at night, just to make sure s/he was still breathing, or imagine the trepidation they felt the first time they left their treasure in someone else’ care. Today, when I greet a new student at the door, it is the whole family that I welcome, doing my best to reassure them that I will handle their delicate treasure with the utmost care.

After a while, the a-ha feeling grew…
I began to look more closely, and more appreciatively, at the small things in life. Having worked with mostly upper elementary aged students, I used to think that teaching early childhood just wasn’t for me. I know – that’s quite the confession coming from a teacher. Shame! I found I had trouble relating with very young students, that our cadences were, well, off-sync. Kindergarten? I didn’t think I had the patience for the very basic, well, basics. But as I watched my son grow from an infant to a toddler, and the determination with which he learned to crawl, then walk, the elation I saw in his face with each new discovery, I learned just how *big* those small steps are. They say that quality preschool programs are one of the best indicators of future success. Today, as both an educator and a parent, I strongly support that claim – and would gladly teach Kindergarten any day if offered the opportunity.

And then it grew some more…
Another confession that I really must share is this – as a teacher, I used to give plenty of homework. I used to make students record their reading in a reading log, do problem after problem, practice basic facts, research…I even occasionally gave homework on the weekend…academia in overdrive! Today, as a parent, I realize just how precious those weekend minutes for family time really are. I see, now, that fighting with my child to get his reading homework done isn’t going to create a lifelong reader. It is only going to create frustration, anxiety and tension and may indeed backfire. As a teacher, I now strive to be more reflective, more selective in the homework I assign…much less than before… and I never, never assign homework on the weekend.

Every day, another a-ha connection
Whereas I have always felt a little anxious during parent conferences as a teacher, I now have a better sense for what a parent feels at that same moment. As a parent, I look at my son’s teacher across the conference table and see someone who is judging him – whether favourably or not – evaluating his development in the cognitive, physical, and social domains. Does she see the guilt I carry around about all the things I *should* be doing as a parent to help my child grow? Those things that somehow, despite best intentions, get set aside on those days when life gets in the way? This person is helping to shape my child’s future. Does she know everything she needs to know about him? Does she know how anxious he gets when he believes that he may have lost her approval? Today, as before, I start out parent conferences by listening. I listen to parents tell me about their child, and how they perceive their child’s feelings about school. Is Johnny happy to come to school? What kinds of topics does he seem to enjoy most? What works at home? Today, as before, I start out by listening, but it seems like today, when I listen, I can really hear what parents are telling me. As a teacher, I don’t beat around the bush – I am honest with parents about their child’s progress, and always include goals and strategies parents can try at home to help their child grow. I do my best to set the tone right from the start of the school year, to clarify that lines of communication are open. I explain to them that we are partners in the quest to help guide their child towards success, and that, whereas I may not have all the answers, I, we, can work towards effective solutions together.

I have the incredible fortune of having my child attend the school where I work, a school which is, in my opinion, one of the best schools out there. Located on a beautiful green campus, it has intangible qualities that make it a very special place where children are happy and want to learn. It is also a place where, every day, I learn a little something about being a parent, and I learn lots about being a teacher. Being a parent has helped – is helping me – become a better teacher. I switch hats numerous times during the day, look at the other side of the coin, or across the fence. Whatever the metaphor, whenever I move between my role as a parent and my role as a teacher, I make another connection, I have another little a-ha moment.

being a teacher, personality

Do We Dare to Show Ourselves?

Pernille Ripp

The split personality syndrome; an affliction that most teachers suffer from.  We all have our “other”s sides that the students don’t see; maybe it is the side that has tattoos, that swears occassionally or that lives passionaltely for domething that society has not deemed 100% acceptable.  Whatever it is, we hide it, in order to be proper teachers.  Not because we are told but it is expected of us.  You see, being a teacher is not just a job; it’s a life.

I first remember when it happened to me.  Walking in as a practicum student, realizing the immense importance of my future job, and knowing that not all sides of my sparkling personality would see the light.  Not that there is some dark hidden life that I cannot confess to in the daylight, but rather those things we don’t speak of, those things we do not do in front of others.  At least if those others are fellow educators, parents, or students.  Taking those first steps into the building, shelving away part of my personality, inducted me into something special; the cult of teaching.

Teachers are pristine, angelic creatures that live passionately only for their students.  Society has put us on such a high pedestal that most of us struggle to even reach it, let alone remain on it.  We are not just role models for the students when it comes to being passionate learners, but also when it comes to how we live our life.  So we don’t swear (ever!), we certainly do not drink alcohol, smoke, have tattoos, go-go dance, or whatever it is that we do as part of our other life.  We keep it secret, speaking only of noble adventures and how they strengthen our pursuit to be the very best teacher we can be.

I know of very few other profession that puts such high moral demands on its participants and yet we are supposed to willingly accept it because we were the the ones that chose to be teachers.  No longer allowed to be fully human, we instead become caricatures of ourselves, always smiling, always perfect, never gritty or tarnished.  And of course, I agree that we shouldn’t swear, or drink alcohol or any of those things in front of our students, but we are allowed as adults to go out and have a drink and a dance on Saturday night without looking over our shoulder and worrying about who sees us.  And while I relish the fact that I am role model and take it very seriously, I have also found that students respond to us better when we let them in a little; show them a little of our true personality, warts and all. 

So I wonder when teachers will have their fall from grace?  When will society realize that the expectations to us as human beings are so ridiculously distorted that no one will want to even try to be that perfect.  Is this something we must just accept or is there a way to turn it around?  How do we continue on as educators but perhaps show ourselves as fully human?  How do we escape the cult of teaching, the personality we are expected to have, or do we not want to? 

being a teacher, change, communication, control, students

What Do you Mean I am Not the Center of Attention?

Pernille Ripp
This year I stepped out of the limelight.  Hard, cruel, and totally uncomfortable but I am learning to just be quiet.  And not so that I freak my students out with long stern stares or raised eyebrows, although that does happen on occasion.  But so that students can talk, learn, and explore.

You see when a teacher talks a lot, and teachers usually love to talk, students turn into drones.  We know all of the material already so we are so eager to tell the kids all about it.  Some call it excitement over curriculum, I just call it teacher mouth.  We talk to get them ready to them learn, we talk about the learning they are doing, and then we talk about what they have just learned.  Have we ever thought that maybe us being quiet would let them learn better, more, faster?

So I decided that this year would be it.  After reading brain research that shows that students pay proper attention to the same amounts of minutes as their age; oh yes, I have 9 minutes of attention time, I knew I had to stop talking.  Immediately, me ego tried to stop me; how will they ever learn anything if I don’t tell them all about it?  Well, that has been the great part.  Students seem to be actually learning more this way.  They are talking to their classmates about concepts, they are figuring things out on their own and most importantly; they are eager to get to work and learn something.

As the proud parent that lets go of the bicycle so junior can peddle on their own, I am learning to let go of my own ego.  We are so highly educated that we think the only way the students learn best is if we teach them.  Wrong, the best way for student to learn is to explore, and fail, and then explore some more.

So while my classroom may be a little more noisy, ok, a lot more noisy, this year, and lessons may be taking a bit longer because the students have to discover the answer rather than me pointing it out to them, there is also more excitement, more come on and do it and more get-to-it-ness then there has ever been before.  So even though I catch myself sometimes talking too long, I am also getting better at letting go.  After all, I know this stuff already which is why I  am the teacher, now let them have their turn in the spotlight.