being a teacher – Page 88

aha moment, being a teacher, being me, books, Literacy, Passion, students

A Story of A Boy and a Book

November 6, 2015 Pernille Schmidt Ripp

This originally was posted on The Reader Leader Blog from Scholastic. You should really see the other posts on the blog!

He came to me with anger seeping out of every pore, a cloud of dismay surrounding him. Looking at us with eyes that told the world that he was not afraid, that he knew that we could not make him do whatever it was we intended to ask. That he would fight us with every cell in his body just to stay in control. Yet, for all of his anger, for all of his glances directed my way, he wasn’t one of mine. I didn’t have the pleasure of teaching him. He was in a separate English class, trying to be taught all of those things he had missed because of his anger and outbursts.

He wasn’t afraid of me, nor very angry. I posed no threat since I was not one of the ones asking him to please do, please sit, please stop. So every day I greeted him, smiled when our paths crossed, and told him that all of those books I had in my classroom could be his if only he wanted to read one. That even if he wasn’t mine, those books were still meant for him. Every day, he smiled and went on his way, seeing little need for any of the books I might have to share. As the weeks passed, he grew. He pushed his boundaries as children can do so well, always inching along that very fine line of control and struggle. I watched from afar; after all, he was not mine, so all I could do was smile and nod and remind him of the books that awaited.

One day, he didn’t just smile, but instead asked in all earnestness, “When can I be your student? When can I come to your class?” It wasn’t because he didn’t like the class he was in, or the teacher who taught him, but the books were calling, as they often do to so many kids that feel lost. I smiled and shrugged, repeated that the books were there for him whether he was mine or not. For weeks this played out until one day, he entered our classroom and I held my breath; after all, now he was mine, now I was one of the ones that would ask him to stop, to sit, to do. And I was scared of what would happen.

He sat quietly that first day in class. Bent his head and wrote ever so slowly, picking out his words with care, wanting so much to fit in and not just be known as that kid with anger issues. As the other students cleared out, he lifted his head, looked at the clock and asked, “Is it now? Can I pick my book now?” And he walked to the shelf of the book he had eyed and grabbed it, holding on to it as if I would ask him to put it down. “What do I do now?” he asked. “You read it,” I said, “And then you bring it back.” “That’s it?” “That’s it.”

So he left that morning, clutching Amulet: Book 1 to his chest as if it were a safety blanket. And I figured that the minute he left our classroom, that book would be forgotten; his day would develop, and soon our conversation would be a distant memory as his ingrained behaviors clouded his judgment once again. So I wasn’t surprised when at lunch he walked up to me and handed me back the book. “Did you not like it?” I asked, already running a possibility of other titles in my head that I could offer him. “I am done,” he said. “Done? But I thought you were so excited to read it?” I asked, my voice laced with confusion. “I did…I loved it…Can I have the next one please? I promise to bring it back.” He had read it already. He had fallen in love with a book. He was ready for the next one. For one moment in that day, he was just a kid who loved a book, just a kid like all the other kids, asking for the next book in a series that had spoken to him. So we walked into our classroom, found the next book and he left, clutching it to his chest once more, ready to wrestle anyone who would try to take it away.

We fall in love with books when they speak to us. When within their pages, we find a piece of ourselves we didn’t know we were missing. We clutch these books to our chests long after we have stopped reading them as a way to shield us from a world that we sometimes do not understand. Books become absorbed into our identity and allow us to risk, to love, to care about something even when we feel the most vulnerable. Even when we feel the world is not for us, we can find safety within the pages of a book. That is why my classroom is filled with books–so that every child has a chance to find a piece of armor, so that every child has a chance to find a vessel that will hold his dreams and protect them when they need to be. My students may not understand each other’s pasts, each other’s behaviors, but they understand books, and so when a child falls in love with a book and it becomes part of him, it builds a bridge for others to understand that child better. For others to be let in.

Books provide us with the magic that we dream of as teachers. Books, whether fiction or non, chapter or picture, give us the building blocks that we need to connect with our hardest students. To connect with those that we sometimes feel at a loss to reach. That boy didn’t stop being angry. He didn’t stop feeling that the world was out to get him, but he did start believing that somewhere in the world was a place for him to fit in. That he too could be a reader, that he too could belong. That his anger would not be the only thing that defined him, even when it spoke the loudest. That boy knew he had a home with us whenever he needed it. He still does, even though he is no longer around. My door is always open, the books always calling out for anyone who needs to belong, if even for a moment. I will never forget that boy and his book.

If you like what you read here, consider reading my 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.

aha moment, assessment, assumptions, being a teacher, being me, conferences, connect, Passion, student voice

How Can I Make This Better For You?

November 4, 2015 Pernille Schmidt Ripp

For the past three days my students have read. They have sat wherever they wanted, immersed in the book of their choice. They have book shopped. They have reflected, but mostly just read. Whispered about their books. Handed those in they have finished. And waited for me to call their name, knowing that soon it would be their turn.

I have sat at a table and spoken to them all, one by one, taken the time it takes. “How is English going…How can I be a better teacher for you….What is not working…” Armed with the survey they have takes as we finished our very first quarter, they have told me their truths. They have looked at me and then gladly told me everything I have needed to change. And I am so grateful. Think of the guts that it takes to look at your teacher to tell them that something is not working for you. Think of what that says about the community we have.

So for the past 3 days, I have listened. I have nodded and taken notes. I have asked for further explanation, and I have also asked for help. How can we make it better? How can we find more time? How can we make it easier? More engaging? More of what they need? How can we…

We read books to become better teachers. We ask colleagues for help. We meet with administrators. We reach out to parents. We connect and we ask and we ponder together. Yet, how often do we ask the very kids that we teach? How often do we stop what we are doing simply to conference with them? Not about their work but to uncover how things are going? What they need? How we can change? How often do we stop so we can learn from them? Not often enough, but that can change. It starts with us. And it starts with a simple question; how can I make this better for you?

aha moment, being a teacher, being me, PLN, principals, trust

How to Do PD Right – Yes, It’s Possible

November 2, 2015 Pernille Schmidt Ripp

Last week, I had two full days of professional development, or PD as we like to call it. I shared my excitement on Facebook about the two days and, of course, was met with disbelief. Excitement? Really? Since when has PD actually been something to look forward to? And so I realized that I might be in the minority when it comes to excitement for PD, that I might be a lone voice among the educational community and yet, in my district I am not. Because my district, Oregon School District, has figured out how to do PD right.

They operate under a few simple things; trust, communication, and choice. Tenets that far too many districts kind of believe in when it comes to PD but then really don’t when it comes to setting the agenda. Yet, my district not only believes it, they live it, and it is apparent every time we are given time to learn as professionals. Our two days consisted of many different things, all meant to fulfill the needs we not only have as a community, but also as individual learners.

We started with curriculum time. Just that. No set curriculum to go through. No agenda. We were not even told who we had to meet with. Instead we given the true gift of time to meet with those we felt we needed to meet with. And so we did, and we planned, and we even book shopped as we prepared for book clubs. They trusted us to use our time in the best way possible, in the way that we would see as most beneficial, and so we did.

Then we were given small group work time. We have 4 separate professional learning communities happening in our school, so each group met to check in and then as a group we decided what we needed to do. My group had decided it needed time to read the books our school had ordered for us (on our request of course). So we did, we met after and we discussed what we found. Not in order to fill out a sheet, or to check off a box, but because we wanted to learn from each other.

The afternoon was filled with whole school learning as a coach came in to teach us how to coach each other and students. 2 hours were spent trying to make our community stronger and more cohesive. While confusion may have arisen from things we did, it still started a lot of conversation. It still gave us tools we could use. It still gave us a chance to learn from each other.

We ended the first day with work time for whatever we needed. Again, no need to check in. No need to report somewhere. Just work, get it done, whatever “it” is.

The second day had two components to it. The first part of the day being an Edcamp style set-up where we could choose to go to whichever sessions our colleagues were holding, the second being time to work on Educator Effectiveness, our state evaluation system. The morning was fantastic, there were so many sessions, it was hard to pick. And the best part was the variety of the sessions; from discussion of curriculum, to brainstorming, to hands-on projects. From the advanced to the basic, there was room for all. That afternoon we ended our two days with time to do all of the things that our government is asking us to do. Whether it was to meet with our evaluator, meet with a colleague, simply fill out the many online forms, or contemplate how to reach our goals, we were given the time. We were given the tools. We were given the support to be the very best educators we can be.

I wrote about trusting staff in my book Empowered Schools, Empowered Students. I wrote about what it could do for an entire district if professional development started to mean something again. I wrote about how a district could actually use these days to honor the talent, the curiosity, and the need of its educators by trusting them. By listening to them. By offering choice. When I wrote that book, I had no idea that I would get to work for a district that lives out this vision every day. I am so grateful that my dream is not just, but actually a part of the tapestry of where I get to teach. PD can be done right, after all.

aha moment, being a teacher, books, Literacy, Passion, student voice

Then It Just Doesn’t Matter

October 31, 2015 Pernille Schmidt Ripp

I have some staunch book haters this year. Some kids who really hate reading. Some of them hate writing as well. And not just in a “7th grade trying to be cool” kind of way, but in a deep-seated notion that rules their decisions, their actions, and their days. They hate reading. And they are telling me loudly.

They are pushing me to think about what I do in our classroom. How I try to wrap them up in the excitement, how my own relentless quest to find that perfect book along with them is one that deserves the time it gets. That the very act of loving reading (or writing or math or science) is something that we must find the time to cultivate in our schools. Even when I feel the pressure of the year and the deadlines looming over me. Because when they hate reading (or insert whatever school related subject here) then it just doesn’t matter what strategies I try to teach them.

When they hate reading then it just doesn’t matter that I am trying to teach them how to think deeper about text.

It just doesn’t matter that I am trying to teach them to find the signposts.

It just doesn’t matter that I am trying to teach them how to write about their thoughts. How to access harder texts. How to understand text features or write a summary. How to analyze rather than paraphrase.

When they hate reading then that is all they can think about. They refuse to access the skills that they need to practice because everything we do is attached to something to something they hate.

And I get it, why would you want to do more with something you despise?

So when they hate reading we must attack that first. Not the strategies, not the skills, but the emotion that is attached to everything we are trying to do. We must dig and dig and dig to find out why. And we must ask, and we must talk, and we must give them a chance to change their mind, if even just in the slightest way, as we create classrooms that are run on a culture of love for our subject, rather than a need to cover curriculum.

We can assume that they hate it because it is hard. We can assume that they hate it because they find it boring. That they hate it because they have to sit still, because they cannot focus, because they would rather be doing so many other things. But we won’t know until we ask. We wont know until we acknowledge the hatred or whatever emotion they carry so that we can do something about it.

Too often we barrel on, hoping that within our teaching something magical will happen. Yet within our race to teach to the standards, to explore the strategies, to cover, cover, cover, we cannot forget to develop the love, develop the relationship that students need to have with what we teach so that can become invested, even if just a little bit.

So when they hate reading, or whatever other thing they loudly proclaim to hate, don’t just teach. Listen. Ask. And then do something about it. And not just by yourself, but with them.

advice, aha moment, being a teacher, being me, parents

How to Have Courageous Conversations With Your Child’s Teacher

October 22, 2015October 22, 2015 Pernille Schmidt Ripp

Every year it has happened to me, you check your email or your voicemail not expecting much and there it is; a message from “that” parent that makes you so upset. That message that makes you question everything you have been doing, everything you are trying to do. And you cannot help but get a little angry, but get a little defensive, to immediately want to protect yourself rather than stop and think. It is so hard sometimes being in a world where communication is so easy and words can be interpreted in a million ways. And while those messages may seem hurtful at first, they can become the biggest inspiration for growth, if we let them.

No one sets out to be “that” parent. No one sets out to send an email that can be read a million ways, to make a phone call that you know might dampen someone else’s day. But sometimes we have to start the types of conversations that we hope to never have with our child’s teachers. Sometimes we have to ask things that may be seen as questioning them. And it is so hard. Especially when you are a teacher and you know exactly how something can be taken.

And yet, for the sake of our children we have to find ways to have tough conversations. When something is not working for our child it is our right and responsibility to speak up. But there are ways to do it nicely, to where it will not immediately be taken as an attack but rather as an invitation to further discussion. So what can you do?

Be nice. Politeness goes such along way. If you are about to ask some tough questions, use your manners and do not speak down to someone else. All the teachers I know take great pride in their work and no one sets out to have bad experiences in their classroom, so show respect by the tone of voice you use whether written or spoken.

Investigate by asking questions. If I believed all of the things our daughter, Thea, told me, I would have a crazy view of her school, after all she is 6 and sometimes pretty tired by the time she gets home from school. So when something happens I always ask questions before I jump to any conclusions. Often times what really happened is not what a child shares, so give the teacher the benefit of the doubt.

Do your research. We oftentimes think that teachers have all the power over what happens in their classrooms, but we do not. Anything from district initiatives, state standards, and federal regulations all influence what we do in our classrooms, so make sure the teacher has control over whatever it is you are questioning, particualrly if it something that has upset you.

Ask for clarification. When Thea came home with a reading log 5 days into kindergarten I emailed her teacher asking what the reasoning behind it was without sharing how much I hate reading logs. I needed to make sure her teacher knew I was not questioning her, but rather trying to understand. Once I had more information then I could ask further questions.

Leave room for conversation. When we come across as brash or hotheaded, we are not inviting further conversation. Ask for help. Ask for support and ask to be a partner rather than dictate what someone should do.

Over-explain. I would rather a parent over-explain their reasoning than under-explain. Sometimes when we are too brief, we leave a lot of room for interpretation which almost always ends up being a negative experience for the recipient. So state your point, explain why, and give enough information for the teacher to have something tangible to respond to.

Be specific. If something is harming your child tell me how. If your child has reported something to you tell me what that is. I cannot sort through a situation or even respond to it well if I do not know the details, which can lead to further misunderstanding.

Keep it to your child. If you are concerned for your child, state that, but do not generalize or ask questions about other children. Teachers have to adhere to strict privacy laws and often cannot answer questions about children. If this is a concern for many parents have them as part of the conversation to, do not just say that you speak for them.

Go to the teacher first. Sometimes our gut reaction is to head to the top when we really need to first speak to the teacher. It is common courtesy to give someone a chance to speak before others are involved. That does not mean administration cannot be involved, it just means the teachers should have a chance to respond first.

Call rather than email. Email can be misinterpreted in so many ways, trust me, I have probably misinterpreted intentions at least once a month, but a phone call or meeting is easier to navigate. If someone is truly upset about something, I would much rather they seek me out and schedule a meeting, letting me know what we will be discussing, then sending an email. And also, be mindful of school hours; if a teacher is in the middle of teaching they probably cannot speak to you at that moment.

Treat the teacher like you would want to be treated. I cannot stress this enough; teachers are human and sometimes we mess up. It is not because we tried to, but it does happens. If you treat us the way you would like to be treated in a tough conversation then our conversation will be much more productive. Much can be handled via an honest and lighthearted conversation, even serious topics.

Gently question. There is nothing wrong with questioning a teacher’s practice if you are seeing it harm your child, but do so gently. Teachers spend a lot of time planning for best practices, and thus take pride in their work. That does not mean it is always in the best interest in the child (public behavior charts, I am looking at you) but that can be a pretty hard thing to face.

And finally, a word to all of us teachers. While criticism, even if just perceived, is hard, it is also a chance for us to reflect, grow and become better teachers. Yes, there are times when criticism will be just that and those moments are hard to get through. But in the end, I truly believe that when a parent asks us questions, even if they come of as a rude or disrespectful, within those questions are a seed for reflection, an opportunity to pause and make sure that what we are doing is in the best interest of children. We are all trying to do the very best we can, after all, let’s not lose sight of that.

If you like what you read here, consider reading my book Passionate Learners – How to Engage and Empower Your Students. The 2nd edition and actual book-book (not just e-book!) just came out!

assessment, being a teacher, Personalized Learning, Student

An Easy Yet Powerful Method for Differentiating Instruction

October 19, 2015 Pernille Schmidt Ripp

Today was one of those days that gives you hope. Where you feel like maybe we have been doing something all of these weeks together. That perhaps the students are on their path to personalize, to take ownership of their learning. To do all of those things I get a chance to tell others to try. And it was not because I did anything revolutionary, but instead because I relied on an old method of differentiating, a method that I have not yet perfected, yet it gives us all greater insight every time. This is best used with something the students have already tried.

It is simple; with whatever task you want students to do ask them to divide themselves into three groups; those that would like to work with support of a teacher, those that would like to work with the support of a peer, and those that would like to support a peer. Then let them go into those groups, even if you think it may not be the right choice for someone. Pair students up in the two peer groups and have them do the learning task while you work with the other kids. That’s it for this time.

Here comes the best bit of this; once they have done the task and you have looked at it (I quickly glanced at their work today and assigned them a score according to the criteria we set), then the following day you regroup them based on their scores. Why? Because some kids inevitably need support that they did not get the day before. Some kids are ready to support their peers and do not know it. And others just need one more time with the same type of assignment but in a new way.

So why bother with the self grouping in the first place? Because it gives you invaluable insight to the confidence (and ability) of the students. This way you get a chance to see how they view themselves and it allows you to have some deeper conversations as to their skills. Yes, I had to bite my tongue as a few kids made choices I was not sure of, but it turned out that some of them knew themselves and their needs a lot better than I did.

And there you have it, an easy way to gauge students’ skills, confidence, and needs.

If you like what you read here, consider reading my book Passionate Learners – How to Engage and Empower Your Students. The 2nd edition and actual book-book (not just e-book!) just came out!