Category: being a teacher

being a teacher, energy, invest, students

Invest in Yourself

Pernille Ripp

I am nothing special.  Just a teacher trying her hardest in making her students believe that they too can be something.  That they too can move mountains, change the world, be somebody.  A small quest but a meaningful one.  Some call me an idealist, others overly optimistic, but I think of myself as human.  I believe in those kids entrusted to me.  I believe in their passion, their desire to learn, their ability to learn.  I work too many hours, I wonder, think, digest their learning, their skills, their failures.  I take responsibility, I beat myself up if a lesson fails and I celebrate loudly with my students when they triumph.  I live life fully in my classroom, embracing all of the emotions of life, investing myself into my this classroom, making sure my students know the true Mrs. Ripp, warts and all. 

The reward is immense.  My students tell me about themselves.  They show me their work.  They trust me with themselves.  The setbacks are also big, though.  I can be on an emotional rollercoaster due to the mood of my classroom.  I can work too many hours and not get enough sleep.  I can obsess over lessons, obsess over a student’s situation that is out of my control, and I can beat myself up over not being good enough, there enough, just not being enough.  So last night my husband told me that I was working too much, missing out on moments with my 21 month old daughter.  And he is right.  With all the changes that have occurred in my classroom, this has been by far the most work I have ever put in for the first 7 weeks of school.  I am glad I have put in the hours, I am glad I have invested myself but the balance has been bumped somehow.  The balance of life and teacher has been tilted in the wrong way and I am feeling drained, listless, and just plain old tired.

So instead of complaining about it, I am realizing this is normal.  When you invest everything you have into your classroom, you sometimes forget to keep a little for yourself.  So while I do live for this job, for these kids, I also have to live my life.  I must allow myself to go home at the end of the day sometimes with no work to do.  I must allow myself to take the weekend off and not go into my classroom to do more.  I must allow myself to live, just as I hope my students do, when I do not assing them another worksheet.

To be the best teacher I can be, I must also be the best person I can be.  And that person needs her family more than anything else in the world.  Without time with my family, I lose my base, my sanity, and that affects everything else.  So this weekend I plan on going to the farm and picking a pumpkin with my daughter.  I plan on petting the goats, reading a book, and cooking dinner.  I plan on listening to my husband when he speaks and maybe even going grocery shopping.  And I will relish these ordinary life moments, come back renewed, rejuvenated and ready again to invest in my kids.  After all, they deserve the best me that I can be, and so do I. 

being a teacher, emotions, honesty, personality

Yes, You Look Fat in Those Pants

Pernille Ripp

I am an open book.  I wear my heart on my sleeve, smile to the world and rage directly at the people that need the rage.  I am driven by emotions both good and bad and have a very strong instinct that guides many decisions.  I was probably born this way but can also accredit this personality to my mother, who never backs down when it gets tough, who always speaks her mind, who is always honest.  I am the friend that will tell you that those pants make you look fat but I will also tell you when something you did was amazing.  I am that wife that tells their husband when they are whining but will also show genuine appreciation for taking the garbage out or buying gas station flowers (they are the best).  I am that teacher that will tell you how your actions upset me and then we will solve it together.  I wish I could say I do not carry a grudge, but I do, however my grudge list is very brief and I intend to keep it that way.

It is not easy being bold, or direct, or honest.  In fact, this society does not reward such behaviors but instead tells you to tone it down, think of who you are offending, or know your place.  Being Danish does not make it easier since it is a trait much-valued in my country and yet over here, it is almost entirely frowned upon.  The trouble I have gotten into because of my bluntness could fill the pages of a very long book, from being booted out of a wedding the week before, to almost being left behind in a Vegas casino, yes, I have made many mistakes.  And yet, I would not change who I am, at least not in a major way.

Yes, I am emotional but that is not a swear word.  Instead, I am exuberant, joyful, and overly optimistic – most of the time.  I am genuinely happy to see you, to meet you, to connect with you and if I am not, you will know.  If I care about you, I will reach out to you.  If I am interested, I will ask.  If you upset me, I will tell you and then try to solve it.  If you hurt me or there is a misunderstanding, I will come to you rather than my colleagues or friends.   I believe in honesty and it is my driving nature.  Sure I get into trouble, a lot of trouble, but I will not change it.  It is time we let our guards down and let the honesty out.  It is liberating to tell someone what you really are thinking as long as you weigh your words carefully.  But do not be afraid of yourself, your emotions, your instincts, after all, they are you.  Do not hide from your directness but embrace it; embrace yourself, and give yourself a chance.

being a teacher, community, grades, letting go, rewards, students

Letting Go

Pernille Ripp

As this new year is really getting under way, and for me even slightly starting over, I am thinking of all the things I am letting go off.  At first scary and new, now these things are becoming familiar and worth it.  So I urge myself to let go and continue to let go off

  • Grades. Yes, once the cornerstone of my educational philosophy but now I am seeing them for what they are; fictional numbers scribbled on a page that does not let my students know what they excelled at or even how they may improve.
  • Tests for the sake of a grade and being done with something.  Instead they now work as springboards to new learning, explorations and joint adventures.
  • My voice.  Yes I am actually staying more quiet and letting the students do the talking.
  • Rewards.  Imagine a room of 28 well-behaved students that yes may get a little fidgety or even a  little loud but that actually enjoy each other and the learning environment they are creating.  Not punished by rewards as the wonderful Alfie Kohn would say but rather motivated by a common desire to create the best learning environment for all of us.
  • Rule poster.  Oh yes, that staple of classroom walls.  I don’t even have one this year, of course, we have talked about it and, in fact, they often change based on the challenge we are doing, but nothing is etched permanently and neatly laminated for the sake of reminders.
  • My markers.  Another novel idea; let the students do the writing.  No more trying to decipher my chicken scratch.
  • Missing all of a recess.  Sure some students stay in to work with me but when we are done they are free to run because kids need to run, not stare at me for some sort of punishment they do not understand.
  • Lectures about behavior.  They get it, they know when they are being too loud, or off task, address it and move on.
  • Structure for the sake of control.  We have a basic structure such as asking to go to the restroom but if you forget, it is ok.  I forget sometimes too.
  • Me being the only teacher.  I think of my room as having 29s teachers plus whom ever walks into the room.  Those kids know something, let them show it and watch them gravitate toward each other for more.
So ask yourself; what have you let go off this year and how has it changed you?  I know that I have a long way to go but this journey is one I gladly get on every day.
aha moment, being a teacher, PLN, students

I’ve Always Been a Teacher – Edna’s Aha Moment

Pernille Ripp
Edna was one of the first international connections to my PLN and has been one of the most inspiring as well. Never afraid to lend and ear or give advice, she has been a wonderful person to learn from. Edna is a teacher and curriculum coordinator at an IB PYP school (Primary Years Program) in Melbourne, Australia. She blogs at What Ed Said and is @whatedsaid on Twitter.



I’ve always been a teacher. Not the sort who does the same things year in, year out, though. I’ve always enjoyed change and challenges and been willing to experiment with new ideas.

But I’ve been teaching a long time and I admit there have been things I have done just because I always did them that way. I always liked using computers, but I had no idea of the possibilities…

My ‘aha’ moment came a couple of years ago, when I read an extract from ‘Navigating through the Storm, Education in Postmodern Democratic Society’ by Ron Aviram, head of The Center for Futurism in Education, in Israel. To be honest, till then, I had not thought much about the fact that education in schools hadn’t changed, while everything else in the world was changing rapidly and radically.

Then I attended my first international conference in Singapore, a gathering of 700 IBO educators from the Asia Pacific. What motivated me wasn’t so much the content, as the opportunity to network with educators from around the world and to witness the things that teachers had done in their classrooms and schools.

I started reading online and began to discover some inspirational education blogs.  Soon I had subscribed to quite a number and was reading voraciously online about educational reform and how others were integrating technology into their classrooms.
I started experimenting with web 2.0 tools and implementing them into my teaching. I introduced my class to ToonDoo and Voicethread to enhance their learning. We learned together.  As I discovered new and useful tools, I shared them with my class and with other interested teachers at school.

The ICT teacher at my school was thrilled to have an accomplice at last. We started a voluntary tech group for interested teachers to experiment together every fortnight before school. Our ‘Thinking group‘ which meets on the alternate week had been sharing readings and implementing Visible Thinking and soon the 2 groups began to merge as a 21st century learning group.  Discussions centred on making learning relevant and authentic, including the integration of technology. This is my in-school PLN.

I joined nings, such as Classroom 2.0 and PYP Threads and began to participate online.  Then a friend encouraged me to start writing my own blog. At first I didn’t think I had anything to say. Then I didn’t think I would have any readers. But I pushed forward and was soon addicted. I had more things to write about than time to write them.  I didn’t care if I had an audience or not, the process was part of my own learning.

And then, by far the best thing happened. I had dabbled in Twitter and not yet seen the point. But, once I figured out the benefits of following educators and educational hashtags, and once I discovered #edchat, I was on the road to the most powerful learning yet. Over the coming months, I began to develop a worldwide PLN. Learning from them and with them, I discovered and uncovered resources, tools, ideas, challenges… and inspiration. Interacting with educators around the world has pushed my thinking, clarified my ideas and motivated me to explore different kinds of learning for myself, my students and my school.

I’ve always been a teacher. Not the sort who does the same things year in, year out, though. I’ve always enjoyed change and challenges and been willing to experiment with new ideas. But I’ve changed more in the last couple of years as a teacher and a learner than in the preceding 25 years!



AHA!

aha moment, Be the change, being a teacher

Don’t Be a Worthless Ball of Goo – Jeremy’s Aha Moment

Pernille Ripp
This week’s Aha moment is shared by Jeremy Macdonald, a 5th grade teacher in Klamath Falls, Oregon. Besides opening minds of 5th graders he is also in charge of professional development at his school in regards to technology integration and can be found on twitter under @MrMacnology.  He has a fabulous wife and 3 wonderfully crazy kids.  A fellow grade slayer, deep thinker, and just one of the boys, his blog always inspires me to do better, strive for more, and just overall think about why I do what I do.


I’ve never looked back since that day.  I remember the rush that I felt.  There was no doubt in my mind.  It was my epiphany; my “Aha!” moment.  I finally knew what I was going to do for (essentially) the rest of my life…

(Camera fades out, flashback a la Wayne’s World.)

Since I was eight I wanted to be an F.B.I. agent.  My dad did it.  My uncle did it.  Several of my dad’s cousins did it.  I had a family heritage to uphold.  Shortly after graduating high school, I was getting ready to enroll for my first semester of college.  I was going to study psychology.  I wanted to “understand” the perps I would soon be investigating and apprehending.  I dreamt of closets full of dark suits and guns.  I was ready for shootouts and car chases.  I clicked the final “Submit” button and I was enrolled.  A few introductory psych classes along with a few other generals.

Jumping ahead a few months, I found myself sitting in front of that same computer screen, but this time in my dorm room.  I had about seven minutes before my first class started, but my room was at least a fifteen minute walk away.  What was I doing?  Why was my hand ready to click “Clear All” below my class schedule?  I really didn’t know WHAT I wanted to do.  Had I deceived myself with countless hours of the X-Files and Unsolved Mysteries?  I believe I had.  So I clicked.

Here I was, no classes, tuition paid, books bought, on the first day of school, and I was clueless.  Not exactly the best feeling.  Something led me to my university’s school of Fine Arts and Communications.  After a few minutes (and I mean this literally) of consideration, I was now a Communications Major, with a focus in Advertising and copy writing.  I was always day dreaming, doodling, and coming up with silly stories while growing up.  I thought that Advertising would be a great way for me to use this creativity for the greater good…(especially since I wouldn’t have to shoot anybody now.)

(Cue soft piano music and chimes)

(Camera fades out, and through a light fog, camera fades back in.)

So here I am after a two-year hiatus after my freshman year, newly married, and looking to explore a bit of Business and Finance before I commit to Advertising.  I loved being able to create, write, and laugh at most everything I did, but I was also a numbers guy and money had always interested me.  I enrolled in some basic business classes like Econ 110 and Accounting 101, in addition to my continued pursuit of Advertising.

It was the middle of the semester and Norm Nemrow was giving his famous “Sixth Lecture.”  He had nine required lectures during the semester–the rest of the learning was done on the computer and in the lab.  The “Sixth” was the one every Accounting major remembered.  It had nothing to do with accounting, actually.  It was a life-lessons lecture.  Norm talked to us about making life decisions based on our passions and what made us happy and not based on money or the endless pursuit of it.  Now this came from a man that was easily worth nine figures before he was 40!  Easy for him to say, right?  But in reality it was, and he meant every bit of it.

Norm, too, had an “Aha” moment.  He realized one day during retirement (remember, this was before he was even 40 years old) that he was a “worthless ball of goo”–his words, honest.  He had done nothing with his life since retiring and felt that he had more of a purpose to fulfill.  Long story short, he started teaching at the university.  For free.  And it was during that fabled “Sixth Lecture” that I learned all this, but it was what he was about to say that struck a chord.

“If I could go back and start over, I would have started right here, in the classroom.  I should have started as a teacher.”

(Cue light bulb.  Student “A”–that’s me–gazes towards ceiling with thoughtful expression)

Big words from a man that could fund a stimulus bill all on his own.  I knew he meant it though, and that’s when I said, “Aha!”  I literally had to keep myself from standing up and leaving.  I was ready to change majors and step into a classroom of my own.  Why had it taken so long for me to see this?  Psychology?  Advertising?  Business?  Who was I kidding?  What better place for a hyperactive daydreamer with a love for pencil fights than an elementary classroom?  I was a shoe-in.

(Cue sentimental piano/violin music a la the end of an After-school Special)

So here I am.  Over seven years since that day and I’ve never looked back; never second guessed; never regretted that decision.  It’s strange how life leads you down the most obscure paths before you “find your way.”

I will soon be starting my fifth year in the classroom and I think I’m more excited now than I have ever been.  Much of this anticipation is due to the marvelous PLN that I’ve been able to build over the last several months.  From Twitter to Blogs to #rscon10, I have been able to experience growth as an educator, and a learner, than I have at any other point in my career.  I am grateful for friends and colleagues like Pernille who drive me to think differently about learning and encourage me to keep doing what I’m doing.

(Fade to black)
aha moment, being a teacher, reflection

My Very Own "Aha" Moment

Pernille Ripp
The following is a new regular feature that will be posted every Monday.  I hope that other’s will be interested in sharing their  “Aha” moment with the world so that we as teachers can see how different we get to our life altering moments and how random people can end up shaping the rest of our lives.  Join me into the journey of “Aha” moments.

We all hear about them;, rumors,whispers, hushed conversation in the hallway, “Did you hear so and so had that moment.” Shock, joy, jubilant outbursts often follow.  That moment being, of course, the evasive “Aha” moment.  This moment is something I chase every day, hoping that my students will experience the sheer joy when everything clicks into place and a concept becomes clearer.  As I grow professionally, my desire to create more of these gets even more insatiable and thankfully so.
Think back to your own childhood, though.  What was your biggest Aha moment?  What, all of a sudden, clicked into place and your future molded in front of you; now you had a direction, a course to steer from, a goal to reach.

Mine was about 6 years ago.  I was 2 years into my teaching degree.  Mind you, this was the second time I had entered college, the first time electing to be undecided, and undecidedly uninspired.  So there I was, my 23 year old self, thinking that maybe this whole teaching thing could be kind of interesting.  After all, I come from a long line of educators and they seem to really enjoy it.  Yet, my heart was not in it.  I had no inspirational stories about my favorite teacher, or how I could not wait to get with the kids.  In fact, I was reaching a rather critical point in where I though the whole degree was kind of a joke since all we were being taught was how to teach fictitious students.  College and teaching just did not seem to be worth it.

Then, I was assigned a practicum.  A teacher, that for some reason really liked me, set it up for me.  It was convenient, close to my house, and it was in special education, something that I had to learn about anyway.  With no delusions of anything grand, I arrived at the school and walked into Melanie’s classroom.  Well, hold on, it wasn’t quite a classroom but rather the old book room where she had been placed for convenience.  The room was full of kids, all sitting around a table writing.  Not a small feat, come to find out, since they all had varying degrees of special needs and they were all being serviced by this one teacher.  I introduced myself and immediately she put me to work making me listen to a child read aloud.  As I sat there listening to this young girl, so eager to share the basic book she was reading, I looked around the room.  This kids loved their teacher and she loved them back.  The praise, the admiration for their effort, and the respect that emanated throughout this room was tangible.  Melanie knew what it meant to be a teacher of all children and they basked in her genuine caring for all of their aspirations.

The 2 hours flew by and I had to go to work.  I thanked her profusely and promised I would be back.  As I got in my car, it happened; my “Aha” moment.  So this is what being a teacher can look like, feel like, be like.  Melanie’s teaching skills and person skills changed my entire outlook on teaching and what teaching meant for me.  During this practicum I developed this high sense of urgency in reaching these students and fell in love with  really, truly, believing that all children can be reached, that all children have a chance at learning, and that you have to believe.  Melanie is the reason I became a teacher.

This story has a fairy tale ending if you would like.  I came back to this school for a year, always making up excuses and twisting my practicum placements so that I could continue to be in Melanie’s room.  When it came time to say goodbye, I cried as the students gave me their handmade cards and pictures.  I promised to stay in touch, which I did, and over a year later, Melanie set me up in my student teaching experience in a 5th grade room in the same school.  Through that I got a long-term sub position that ultimately led to my regular position as a 4th grade teacher at the same school.  Melanie and I are still great friends, and I will be the first to yell the loudest about just how phenomenal of a teacher she is.  She was the conductor of my “Aha” moment, the reason why I am so happy with my life now.  She continues to inspire me in how she teaches her children, how she reaches out and how she touches a community.  I owe her more than she will ever know and every day I hope that some day, somehow I will be the provider of such an “Aha” moment.