reflection – Page 27 – Pernille Ripp

I feel like a fraud. All week I have been discussing grades with my students as we prepare to release the second trimester report card. All weeks I have been telling them they are “3’s” or “4’s” and why they are these arbitrary numbers. I have wished for ownership of their learning. I have wished for them to understand what that number means and how it looks in their work. I have wished for them to see that everything they are working towards cannot just be distilled into a number and yet we are going to try. I have had so many reflective periods in class that I am not sure they even know what they need to reflect on anymore in the hopes that they will buck the numbers. And yet, when I sat them down, one-by-one, to ask them what their goals were for the final trimester, most answered, “To get more 4’s.”

Argh.

Yet, I know the fault is my own. I have tried to humanize a report card To make it mean something to the kids. I have tried to elevate it to something of importance rather than just add it as another part of their journey. I have let it take center stage rather than just pointing it out as one more representation of their learning and then moving on.

This is not what school is about. This is not what school should be about. I have tried all year to have my students own their learning and own their journey and yet, this week, I set them back so far. I forgot how much I hate grades. I forgot how much I do not want to talk about them. I forgot about how little they truly mean in education.

reflection

In Which I Get Schooled By A Kid

March 6, 2013 Pernille Ripp

This post is not to garner pity, or poor you kind of comments. It is not to embarrass or to make myself look terrible. It is to speak the truth of how teachers are merely humans and although we would like to be infallible, we are far from it. Although we would like to think we always know best, we don’t.

Chalk it up to sleep deprivation going on for about 10 days. That’s what happens when everyone in your household has the flu and you are the only one healthy enough to be caretaker. Chalk it up to being distracted; too many things going on, both in school, and outside. Chalk it up to forgetting who I am, if even for a minute, and going back to those old ways. Chalk it up to whatever you want but today I got schooled by a kid, and I deserved every bit of it. I called this kid out infront of the class and made him so angry. Instead of backing off and thinking about it, I kept at it, letting him get more angry, until a break was needed. I wanted to be right so bad, that I forgot for a moment that this was a kid in front of me. Perhaps I was a little bit right, but nowhere near the amount needed for that type of confrontation.

I went home, reflected, admitted to myself that that was poorly handled and that I had to reach out tomorrow. Once again, this kid beat me to it. This kid, this so angry kid, sent me the most eloquent email telling me exactly what was going on. Telling me exactly why he got so very angry and exactly what I did to push him there. He wrote to apologize but also wanted to make sure I heard his side, and hear it I did. Not like I had heard it today in the classroom, but really hear it, no filter, no holding back.

Instead of getting angry, I saw what this email really was; a way in, a gift really, a way to repair a relationship that otherwise may have been fractured for the rest of the year. This kid gave me a chance again. This kid gave me a chance to redeem myself, to become a better teacher, to remember that I teach someone’s child. Thank you. I am sorry.

principals, reflection

Can We Have Courageous Conversations With Our Principals?

February 26, 2013 Pernille Ripp

I am always struck by passion of the principals I meet in my travels and this weekend, at EdCamp MadWI, was no different. I was in many frank conversations with principals who had questions for me or just had really amazing ideas. Their passion for their staff and the betterment of their school poured out of them. As I returned to school today, I wondered; where are those conversations between teachers and principals in our buildings? What holds us back as teachers in starting frank and honest discussions with our very own principals on a regular basis? Fear? Apprehension of misunderstanding? Past poor experiences? Or is it simply time and a strictness of protocol? Do our home schools have a power hierarchy that we cannot bridge in the same way we do at EdCamps? Do we walk around our schools afraid of having courageous conversations with those closest to us?

I think it is time we start those courageous conversations with our administrators. It is time for us to realize and acknowledge that our principals were teachers once as well, and that they too functioned under a principal, with every self doubt that implies. It is time for us to not be afraid and to speak to our principals and administrators the way they deserve to be spoken to; as human beings rather than just our bosses.

I know I fall victim to stereotypes myself; assuming that someone in a principal job does not want feedback, does not want ideas, does not want honest discussion. I am not sure where this idea started from but it seems to permeate many schools. Perhaps the very role of principal means there is a glass wall between us. Perhaps it is their sheer busyness that creates a natural distance. I am not sure but we must discuss, we must reflect, and we must have conversations that push the boundaries much like we would with our colleagues because even though principals are in leadership positions they are still our colleagues as well.

While I know many principals tread water all day, floating from one fire to another, there are still many moments for us to discuss and reflect together. I think we need to bridge that unspoken gap that exists between teachers and principals and somehow find a way to grow together, rather than the more typical path of us versus them. We must approach our every day as we would an edcamp; there to learn, there to think, there to connect. It is time we give our principals a fair chance.

reflection, students

Should Teachers Ever Apologize for the Damage We Do?

February 17, 2013 Pernille Ripp

“…Peter*…What am I? Chopped liver?” And with these words the boy that changed me turns around and gives me a smile. It is the annual PTO carnival at my school and he has come back with a friend to see his old stomping grounds.

I stand there not quite knowing what to say, feeling like I should apologize and tell him how much having him in my classroom changed the way I teach. How I am sorry for not changing sooner, for realizing that punishment and rewards was not going to help motivate. For not giving up on homework he was not in a state of mind to complete For not treating him as a child and more like a product. I don’t know where to start and so I don’t.

“How are you?” I say
“Good…” and he smiles again.
“How is school?”
“Really good…”
And I smile.
“I am proud of you, do you know that?”I stammer out.
He smiles, shrugs and nods.
“Good to see you…” and I release him back to his friend.

The words left unspoken rattle me and I turn to a colleague, “If he only knew how much he means to me. How much having him changed everything for me.” Perhaps it is just not something you tell a middle school boy.

When do we as teachers apologize for the way we teach? When do we apologize to the students we failed to reach? Do we ever or is it part of the nature of teaching, that we wont be able to reach them all? Do we ever own up to our previous ways or do we just carry it with us hoping it will push us forward and never teach that way again?

Would Peter have cared if I apologized or simply shrugged and nodded as must middle school boys do? I don’t know.

*Name changed for obvious reasons

image from icanread

reflection, students

Do Kids Really Want an Intervention? Do We Care to Ask Them?

February 14, 2013 Pernille Ripp

I think I may have interventioned some kids to death. Not an easy thing to admit but it needs admitting. In the trend for differentiated instruction and a test to discover every shortcoming a child could possibly have, my students know and dread the word intervention. I dose them, specialists double dose them, and sometimes when things get really rough, they even get a triple dose. Call it reading help, call it math support, call it what you will, but I wonder if some of these kids don’t need a break from all of our help?

Imagine being a child who comes in with certain knowledge lacking. Perhaps they have moved many times. Perhaps they have a learning disability. Perhaps they just hate reading. Or perhaps they can’t help what they don’t know. We test and discover the holes, we meet and discuss the gaps, we then plan and set up all of the things we now shall do to the child. Often without ever asking them or wondering how they will feel when they get pulled out. We teach them strategies, we fill their brains with more methods, more knowledge, more understanding, hoping to find the one that makes it all make sense. They lose class time but we know we have to sacrifice something. They lose reading time because they are in the group we meet with as much as possible. We hover and constantly ask, “Does it make sense?” All in the hope to help them.

I don’t mean to suggest we shouldn’t intervene but perhaps we should ask them how they feel about all of the things we do to them. How do they feel about their labels that we are not supposed to have put on them? How do they feel about the pull out? The extra attention? The extra people that they get to work with? Most kids just go along, but perhaps we should ask them. Perhaps they need a break t ojust be a kid, like all the other kids in the classroom, and perhaps they just need some time.

reflection, student blogging

I Make Them Blog But Do They Want To?

February 12, 2013 Pernille Ripp

image from icanread

For three years I have assumed that my students loved blogging. For three years I have assumed that they wanted to share their thoughts with the world, be role models for others, and have many people comment. I have tweeted about it, I have blogged about it, and I have presented about it. I have held up their work as pictures of exemplary blogging and I have pushed them to share, reflect, and bare their souls. Never did I stop to ask them if they wanted to. Never did I take my own advice to give the students a voice and ask them how they felt.

Today I did. I had opened up their Kidblog, noticed a few kids that had not done the weekly blogging challenge and I got upset. After all, how much more time could I possible give them to blog? How many more opportunities to get it done with? Then I realized that perhaps they didn’t want to. One child for sure did not since he had told me pretty much every day, but the others I had no idea about and the truth is, I had never asked. I had just assumed they loved it as much as I did.

So today I stepped back and asked them if they wanted to blog. I told them it was their discussion to have and that I would await their answer. And I meant it to, as much as I love blogging and it is something I am incredibly proud of, I no longer want to push them into something that is so open without them being ok with it. So I sat back, slightly on pins and needles, and just waited to hear their thoughts.

At first hesitant chatter but then a student took charge and told everyone to sit in a circle and they would all share their opinion. One by one they got their chance to speak and one by one they were listened to.

…I love to blog because I love writing for other people than Mrs. Ripp…
…I love blogging because we can talk to other kids…
…I love blogging because I have no social life…
…I love to blog because people care about what we say…

In the end they decided they wanted to keep blogging. They wanted to share, to reflect, to discuss. They wanted me to read it but they also wanted others to discuss their lives with them.

When they had decided and told me, I added only these thoughts:
…I love when you blog because I get to see your growth as writers…
…I love when you blog because you are considerate writers and others can use you as role models…

But most importantly, I love when you blog because it allows me to get to know you better. We have such little time in the classroom but blogging allows us to connect even more, and I am grateful for that. So thank you for sharing, for growing, and for writing. My students are bloggers; not just because I tell them to be but because they want to be. And for that I am thankful.

If you would like to visit them, please leave them a comment and tell us where you are from – we map all of our connections, wont you be one of ours?

Epilogue: Two days after I wrote this post I asked my students what the students who chose not to blog should do. After another student-led group discussion, they decided as a class that any students that chooses not to blog will do a weekly journal prompt to me instead. They felt that since they were writing as bloggers and sharing their thoughts with the whole world, that others who chose not to should have to do the same but only to me. I stand by their decision and look forward to seeing who will blog or not.