Category: reflection

being a teacher, being me, reflection

Feels Like Home

Pernille Ripp
image from icanread

I was a lonely child.  Not quite a loner, but definitely always the awkward not quite sure where she fit in kid hovering in the background.  I had friends, in fact, I had many friends, but I had few that got me, few that wanted to get me, and I wasn’t really sure how to make people want to be my friend.  I switched schools several times throughout my childhood and every time I kept thinking that maybe this time was the time I would feel like I belonged.  That maybe this move would make my personality change and I wouldn’t be quite as dorky, quite as needy, quite as intense.  It never happened but my hopes kept my heart aflutter.  I made friends along the way, some I still keep as parts of my life, but each friend was one I battled for, one I really tried for, not one that came easy.

When I moved to Wisconsin permanently at the age of 18, I felt truly lost.  My parents and little brothers were here, but I had no one.  Not a person to call, to meet for coffee, to go to a movie with.  And I had no idea where to start.  For my first 3 years here I stumbled along a path, meeting people but not quite making friends besides one.  Then I met Brandon and I felt like I was found.  For the first time, I didn’t feel so lonely.  I didn’t feel that dorky, or needy, or intense.  I just felt like I was home.  And every day I cannot believe that he chooses me to be his wife.  That he chooses me to be there for him.  That he chooses me.  How this lost kid ever found her soulmate, I am not sure but somehow my heart found where I belonged.

I feel that way when I am in my classroom.  When I am among my students and some of my colleagues, I feel home.  Like I am with my tribe of people that get me and that I get.  I know the rules of friendship, community, and how to build trust.  I am needed and wanted.  I have a purpose and I fulfill it with all of my heart every day.  So as I struggle with whether or not I should continue teaching due to finances, I feel as if my heart is breaking.

I would have never said that I was born to teach.  I think I was born to understand, to connect, and to try to help.  Teaching lets me do all of that.  teaching lets me be a part of someone’s life and make a difference every single day.  I never don’t want to go to work, even if I have slept little, am sick, or there is a snowstorm.  My work is my home as well and those kids I get to teach are parts of my family.  Those people I get to work with are parts of my family.  And yet, the state of teaching as a job that pays the bills is abysmal and I don’t know if  can keep letting my heart rule how my family is supported.

So I wonder if my path now leads to a new home?  Will this teacher find a new place to belong?  Or will I leave teaching and be lost like I was so many years of my childhood?  Will I leave my tribe only to be without one or is there another one waiting for me somewhere?  I know I am not the only one searching for answers, can we find home again, outside of teaching?

 

Related articles
Be the change, being me, reflection

How the #Nerdlution is Already Making a Difference

Pernille Ripp
image from icanread

I woke up grumpy yesterday.  Not just fleetingly mad, but kind of a bone deep anger at the world.  Not that there was much a of a reason for it.  I have a pretty fantastic life if I may say so.  But I had slept terribly, the baby had kicked me most of the night, I had nightmares, two of my 3 kids had been up several times.  I didn’t have a good lunch planned, I am in the awkward stage of pregnancy where clothing looks weird, and it was so foggy out I could hardly see my ugly min-van.  You get the drift, everything was not good because that was my dominating mood.

But then I remembered the promise I had made to myself and to the #Nerdlution – to focus on the small happy moments and take pictures of them.  To stop and smell the happy rather than rush through the day.  So I took a deep breath and tried to look for the happy.  Maybe not as serendipitous as just finding it but I had promised myself I would be happy so I was going to find my happy.  At first it seemed super forced, like a fake smile, but then I felt the tension start to leave my shoulders.  Sure Ida was making the stuffed puppy play it’s annoying Christmas jingle for the 10th time, but every time she hit that button, Oskar wiggled his butt.  Sure, Thea was being wild and crazy, but she was playing with her younger siblings the best way she knew how.  Sure, my classroom was filled with piles of work to be done but it meant that almost all of the students had done their work.  And sure, I stuffed myself into a skirt and tried to look decent, but this 4th baby of ours is a miracle baby and this will be the last time I ever get to be pregnant.  Stop and smell the happy.

Could I have snapped out of my mood by myself?  Sure, but it was the knowing of the promise I had made publicly to #Nerdlution that made me do it more forcefully.  I couldn’t already break my promise after 2 days after all.  So today, when I woke up even more tired, even more sore, even more stressed, I knew I had to find my happy again, and I am ok with that.  I know I will because I promised it to myself.

Won’t you join the revolution?  (It is not too late to make yourself a promise…)

being me, Reading, reflection

What My Students Taught Me About Reading

Pernille Ripp
image from icanread

I used to think a child would love reading if I could just find the right book and place it in my library.

I used to think a child would love reading if I could just give them the time to read and the space to do it in.

I used to think a child would love reading if I was passionate about it and always shared what I was reading.

I used to think a  lot of things.

Now I know that we cannot just have the right books in our library but they must be placed into the hands of children.  Sometimes repeatedly.  Sometimes by more than one person.  Sometimes cleverly disguised with new covers or exciting book trailers.  And sometimes we must accept that our favorite book will never be a favorite book of a certain child and so we must place another, and another, and another into their hands.  Sometimes we must get them first to trust us to even open up their hands or hearts to us.  Sometimes a book does that for us.

Now I know that it is not just about giving children time or space to read but choice in how to read and what to read.  Even if that means that they hate the books we suggest, even if that means that they try on 10 books before settling, or 20, or 30.   Even if that means that they sit on their desk to read, or lie under a table, or hide behind the door, or fling themselves on the floor.  Reading does not have to happen at a desk, in a chair or sitting up.  It just has to happen.

Now I know it is not just about me being a passionate reader but also giving students time to share their passion.  It is about them finding their voice as readers and discovering the joy of having another child pick up a suggested book.  About having a conversation about a book with someone who loved it as much as you, cried as much as you, yelled as much as you.  I can share all I want but it is the students that need to discover their inner passion.  They must have time to talk about books.  They must have ways to share their favorites, their worst,  their “I can’t wait to reads!”  They must feel that their opinion matters, that their passion shapes our library.  They must feel that reading time is sacred and not just another chore.  They must know that reading matters and not just because the curriculum says so but because it shapes us as human beings.

I used to think reading was about going through books as fast as possible just so I could show how many I read.  Now I know it is about savoring every one, experiencing it, and letting it change me.  I try to give that moment to my students too.  They taught me to slow down, to give more reading time, to talk more about the books I read.  They taught me what it means to be a passionate reader by being passionate themselves, and for that I am forever grateful.

Be the change, being a teacher, being me, reflection, Student-centered, testing

Why I Will Not Refuse to Give the Tests

Pernille Ripp
image from icanread

I was told this week to just refuse to give standardized tests.  Just like that.  And while the person who told me probably meant well in their statement, I don’t think they realize how big of an action that would be.  I have long blogged about how standardized testing such as the WKCE here is Wisconsin is not an accurate measurement of what a student really knows, but rather a snapshot of that very moment they took the test.  I have also been vocal in my opposition to what that data sometime is used for and how we end up labeling students, teachers, schools, and entire districts on a meaningless measure that does little to emulate what we really do in our classroom.  And sure, I have dreamed of refusing to simple administer it in my room.  But that’s it, a dream, because in reality it probably wouldn’t do much for anyone but me.

If I were to refuse administering these state mandated tests, I would get in trouble.  That is an absolute guarantee.  And while I have never been one to shy away from too much controversy, the kind of trouble this time would be much bigger than a write up.  I could even lose my job for failing to do my duties.  To some that may not seem like a big deal, after all, I should be standing up for my students and their rights, my own opinions, I should protect those children that I teach from the tests.  But my job is vital to my own children.  My job is our health insurance.  My job gives us just enough money so that we can pay our bills.  I wish my husband had a huge paying job, he doesn’t, and so we are a very dependent two income family.  So losing my job refusing tests just isn’t something I can rationally do and in a sense, I am not sure I should be the one refusing the tests anyway.

Teachers can try to change education as much as we want.  Many do.  We write, we speak out, we try things in our own classrooms that we hope will spread to others.  We stand up for what we believe in, we spread our message.  But in the end we are just the teachers.  The real change must come from outside the classroom, from school administration, from school boards, from government, but they will not change until one group speaks out:  parents.  The real change must come from parents.  The real opposition must come from those who entrust their children to us.  They are the ones that can decide whether a test is harmful or inaccurate.  They are the ones that can choose to opt out.   I am not the one that decides whether testing  will harm a child or not, I can have my opinions sure, but in the end the decision does not rest with me and as long as parents willingly have their children tested then my job is to test them.

So while I can dream of refusing to test my students it will only stay a dream until the parents whose children I get to teach are the ones that decide that things should change.  We may think as teachers that it is only our responsibility to speak up and that if we don’t then no one else will.  This is not true anymore.  We may be the ones that start the conversation but others have to join the fight.  Whatever they believe in.  So when I am told I should simply refuse, I hope others see how it is not that easy.  How my refusal will do little for my students and only harm to my own family.  And while I would sacrifice my life for my students if I ever had to, I will not sacrifice my job in a non-lethal situation.  I will not sacrifice the life of my own children for something that many others do not see as a big deal.  Would you?

 

 

 

Related articles
reflection, students

Even in My Room They Still Hate School

Pernille Ripp
image from icanread

I go to work with a mission: I want students to love school.  I want them to want to come to school.  I want them to be excited about learning.  I think most teachers do.  So I stopped punishing, I stopped rewarding, I gave up as much homework as I could, I gave up grades and all of the tests I could.  I made it student-centered and student-led.  I gave them back the classroom.  And yet…some kids still hate school.  How do I know?  Because they told me.

I always end the trimester asking them for their opinion.  What should I change?  What did they love?  What do they never want to do again?  They always give me honest feedback and I take it to heart, changing the second trimester based on their feedback.  Does it sometimes hurt to read?  Absolutely.  Being told that a child hates school hurts.  And yet, it also tells me how much I am up against.

I am not the only factor in creating a love of school.  I can only do so much.  I can take the time I have control over and try to make it the best possible, but I cannot work miracles, even if I want to.  School is still school and no matter what you do there will always be kids that hate it.  Does that mean that our schools are broken?  Perhaps.  Does that mean that we are not reaching every kid?  Yeah, probably.  Does that mean that we still have to change the way school is done in most districts?  Absolutely.  Does it mean I am a terrible teacher?  Maybe for that kid.

But when a child tells us they hate school they are also telling us that they hope we will do something about it.  They are also trusting us with their words.  They are giving us another chance to make it better, to re-engage them, to work harder.  And they are giving us a chance to start a discussion, simply by asking them “Why?”

So on Monday, I get to ask why and then I get to listen.  Because that’s how we change school, we listen to the kids and we start a discussion.  Yes, the truth hurts, but it is no use to hide from it, even if it is not all your fault.

being a teacher, grades, reflection

What the Report Card Doesn’t Tell

Pernille Ripp
image from icanread

I am about to start report cards.  Being a teacher that doesn’t believe in grades for assessment but would rather do feedback, I always struggle at this time of year.  How do I put into words all of the things that I have seen my students do in in the last few months?  How do I quantify how they have grown?  There just seems to be so many thing a report card doesn’t tell us.

It doesn’t tell the story of the child that has worked so hard every day yet has made little academic progress.

It doesn’t tell the story of the boy who hated to read and now has read two books already.

Or the story of the child who thinks he is the world’s worst writer but did an assignment all on his own.

It doesn’t tell the story of the girl who struggles with self esteem and thus doesn’t want to shine a light on herself even though she should.

Or the child that reads a book a night but is too shy to discuss it.

Or the child who knows everything there is about DNA but doesn’t know his letter sounds.

It doesn’t tell the story of the child who knows more than their mind lets them show.

Or even the story of a teacher who tries every day to get these kids to believe in themselves and their ability to change the world.  which grade do I assign all of that?