reflection – Page 3 – Pernille Ripp

Be the change, reflection, Student-centered, writing

But We Hate to Write

October 2, 2014 Pernille Ripp

“It’s just…”His eyes dart away and he stops talking.

I sit there quietly, waiting for him to finish his sentence. I can tell he is down, I can tell he is unsure.

“It’s just…” he begins again after a long pause, “It’s just that I really hate writing, I’m sorry.” And he gives me that look that only a child can give you, that “please don’t hate me” look that cuts straight through me.

A million thoughts fly through my head, mostly surprise. I would never have guessed, not this kid, not him, he is too good of a student. And yet, he waits, so I ask the only thing I can think of, “Well, when did that start?”

I don’t think I hated writing as a child. It was something I did gladly, often delving into long stories filled with tragedy and drama as I worked through my own quiet life. I remember all of the essays I had to write and how I had to wait until I was inspired or the deadline had passed and a teacher was asking me to hand it in before I wrote. But hated it? Nah, more inconvenienced than anything else.

But this child, with his courageous statement, is not alone. More and more often I hear it from my students; “We hate writing.. We hate being told what to write. We hate having to come up with something when we are not inspired.” And I know I cannot be alone .

So what do we do as the teachers of the future writers? How do we bring back the passion into our writing curriculum, much like we aim for in our reading? How do we show these kids that writing is not a chore, not something simply to get through to get to the next thing, but the way for them to have a voice. The way for them to make a difference from where they are right now?

We start with blogging. By providing them with a platform for putting their voice into the world where they can see their words are being read, and their words carry weight. Where others can comment and start a conversation. We then add choice, authentic purpose, and declare our own passion for writing. We show how writing makes a difference to us in our lives. How writing matters and should be held sacred, much like we hold our reading sacred.

But then what? Where do we go from there? How do we convince our students that writing does actually matter? That being a good writer is actually something worth their time and not just something they have to do because their teacher told them to. Or something forced to fit into an already pre-determined box of thought. How do we help them un-hate writing again or is it too late?

I am a passionate teacher in Wisconsin, USA, who has taught 4, 5th, and 7th grade. Proud techy geek, and mass consumer of incredible books. Creator of the Global Read Aloud Project, Co-founder of EdCamp MadWI, and believer in all children. I have no awards or accolades except for the lightbulbs that go off in my students’ heads every day. First book “Passionate Learners – Giving Our Classrooms Back to Our Students” can be purchased now from Powerful Learning Press. Second book“Empowered Schools, Empowered Students – Creating Connected and Invested Learners” is out now from Corwin Press. Follow me on Twitter @PernilleRipp.

Awards, being me, reflection

Once Again I Am the Loser – But Not Really, Well Maybe

September 27, 2014December 29, 2014 Pernille Ripp

Tonight I am the second time loser of an award. It happened rather anticlimactically. I paused to check my Twitter feed in between carrying a bucket of dirty water from the carpet cleaner to the sink. Congrats rang out all around but not to me. I shrugged, felt happy for the winner, and told my husband I was a loser once more. He gave me a very strange look indeed.

I have never shied away from expressing my hatred toward awards in general. It hasn’t always been like this, I used to hand out awards like I was trying to get a degree in it, and yet, I realized one day that it was mostly the same kids getting rewards through my own fault and that of the systems implemented. I realized one day that I was not the kid that would have gotten any because I never did. Funny, how a tradition like that follows you into adulthood. And yet now, I am not as bothered, I have bigger things to do. Bigger things to be proud of. And besides, my daughter told me tonight that I am the world’s best mom. That’s the award I want to win every night.

And yet. I am loser but at least I was nominated. I was recognized for something that is bigger than me, the Global Read Aloud, which I happened to create. I was part of an elite five that somehow had been chosen to represent all of the millions of elementary teachers in the US (or the world, I am not sure). I had been singled out. The young me would have jumped for joy – finally someone to recognize this greatness- and yet the adult me just feels dirty. I cannot help but think of all of the other teachers that should have been nominated, or all of the other people who make our jobs easier, better. All of the others that we build our success upon.

So rather than blast awards more than I have, I would rather use this blog to nominate people who I think deserve some recognition. You may know them, you may not, I could nominate many incredible people who have thousands of followers, people who know of them already, but to me it seems unnecessary. Chances are the people you know who have changed my life are exactly that; people you know. So instead I would like to recognize some quieter people. Those who make me think. Those who make a difference not just to me, but to many others, that don’t seem to fall into any award categories.

To the bus driver, Brad, who for the last two days has made sure that my daughter got to her new school and back to me safely; thank you. Her last school lost her twice on the busses so having her come off of your bus with a smile and you waving and calling her by name, that means the world to me.

To the para that comes to my room in 5th hour and laughs along with me at the crazy things the students do, and yet jumps in every time anyone has a need, thank you. Lynn, you make me feel like I am a better teacher.

To Kelly, “my” special education teacher who sometimes reads this blog but has no idea how at home she has made me feel and how much she does not just for me, but for the school, thank you. You should have thousands of people following you if you ever get on Twitter.

To Jen Wagner, who tirelessly creates global projects that others can do for free just to make the world smaller; thank you. You got me started on global collaboration, just like so many others. You make it safe and you make it fun. I don’t think the world knows how much time it must take you to do it, but I do, and I appreciate it more than you know.

To Jessica Lifshits, your post this summer about coming out and embracing who you are in your classroom, has rocked my world. The work you are doing to create a safe community for LGBTQ teachers may be slow and painful, but you are changing the world by making it better for all of us to find our tribe.

To HappyCamperGirl, I know your name is Amy, but I realized tonight that I don’t know your last night. We follow each other on Twitter, I have learned from on many occasions, how do I not know your last name? Your post on finding your tribe and being there for each other as teachers completely changed the way I treat people that I work with. You made me realize that we are not in competition, but that we are better together. That we should not be tearing each other down, but building each other up. You did that for me, I am sure those I work with thank you for it.

To Tony, how did you become like my annoying little brother so quickly even if you are older than me? It’s crazy how close Voxer can make you feel to someone. You guide me when I need it but you also make me think. Checking in with you is a highlight for me, you make me a better teacher because I want to be more like you.

And finally, to my edu sisters; Leah, Kaye, Jena (and sometimes Sue), your words matter to me every day. Your stories, your ideas, your dreams resonate. I see you as those I come home to every day on my way to my home. I love knowing you like this, I am not alone, because I have you.

How about we all took the time to nominate someone who makes our lives better? How about for once we don’t recognze people like me who have a blog like this. How about we recognize the people who don’t get recognized, those who may seem invisible? I think it would be worth our time.

being me, collaboration, reflection

Yes, I Am A Jealous Child

September 26, 2014December 29, 2014 Pernille Ripp

I felt it creep in today. That feeling that I pretend to not have because I am grown up and above it. That feeling that eats away at me, making me doubt whether I am doing enough, trying enough, creating enough. Jealousy, oh you bad habit, I thought I had gotten rid of you.

It’s not that I am jealous of other people’s lives. I love my own, how can I not when I get to work with incredible people, teach amazing kids, and then come home to my family every night. I have a good life, I am fortunate, but still… Sometimes even what I do doesn’t feel like enough. I don’t have a fancy title to add to my name, nor any awards. My lessons aren’t always great, just ask my kids, and my plans sometimes don’t work. I have yet to be able to reach every child or make a difference for every one I teach. Jealousy can sometimes feel like a constant companion when you are on Twitter.

I realized a long time that jealousy is something that comes along with being a connected educator. When you get to surround yourself with incredible people who seem to have incredible ideas any moment of the day, you are bound to feel inadequate. You are bound to feel out of your league. You are bound to feel like you are simply not as good as them, no matter what your brain tells you. It is really easy to think you are bad when you are surrounded by greatness. So we can wallow in self-pity or we can accept and move on.

A few years back, I chose to accept it. I chose to allow myself to feel jealous, and then I chose to use that as a way to drive myself further. I realized that it was not the attention others got that made me jealous but the incredible things they got to do. Things that I didn’t get to do. Opportunities I didn’t have. So rather than be envious, I decided to to try to pursue the things that I was too scared to do before. So I wrote a book, then another. I submitted proposals to speak. I said yes to things that I before would have felt I was inadequate for. And yes, I wrote blog posts that I was too scared to write before. Has this changed my life? Yes. But am I perfect now? No. I still see people do incredible things and jealousy sneaks in again. But this time I don’t kick myself, nor do I tell myself that I will never reach that level. I instead ask myself; does this matter to you? And if yes, then how are you going to do that too? If no, then I simply tell those I am jealous of that I am happy they have the opportunity.

We can allow jealousy to eat us up or we can allow it to move us forward. We choose what to do with it, not the other way around. I know what I will always choose, even if I forget sometimes. I am only human after all.

Be the change, Reading, reflection, Student-centered

How Many Readers Have I Hurt?

September 20, 2014 Pernille Ripp

Every year I share the story of my husband and how he hated reading for most of his life with my students. I used to share it because it was unfathomable to me; how can anyone hate reading? But in the past few years, I share it so the students know that hating reading and feeling like a bad reader is not a box that should define them.

Yesterday, as I told the story to my 7th graders, head nods all around as I explained how my husband would rather ride his bike than read a book. He knew he was a slow and bad reader, so why even bother when the world has so much else to offer? I asked the students; why is reading hard? Why do we think we are bad readers? One boy raised his hand and said, “I was told I couldn’t read a book because it wasn’t at my level…” More head nods, and I cringed a little, pretty sure I have told students something similar at some point. But still I asked them, “What else has happened to you?”

One shared the story of being told to read other genres to break out of their preference, another of the five finger rule and how it was enforced. A girl told us of how easy books were not allowed, only the ones deemed “Just right.” Stories of forced books, worksheet packets, and reading logs arose and my mortification grew because I know I have said and done all of those things. But these kids were telling me how harmful it had been, not helpful as I had thought every time I said it.

I wonder how often our sage reading advice hurts rather than helps? I wonder how often our great intentions damage what we are trying to build? I know that students need guidance when it comes to growing as readers, but are levels, forced books, and “just right” the way to do it? In our helpfulness are we instead creating reading boxes that our students cannot break free from? I told my students that I would never define them by their level and that the books they choose to read need to be just right for them. Just right at this time in their life. Just right for what they want to do. That can mean many things and it can change through time.

I end with the story of how my husband realized at the age of 35 that he was not a bad reader. He was a slow reader, yes, but that did not make him bad. He realized that had he had more choice, more books, something else in his younger age who knows what would have happened. The past is out of his hands but the future he controls. So as he slowly makes his way through books, he is becoming a reader. I tell my students that they have control of the label they give themselves and to not let that label hinder them. We have all been “bad” readers at some point, we chose what to do with that label. It is my job to help them with that, not give them more boxes to hold them back.

being me, reflection

We All Have Worth

September 19, 2014 Pernille Ripp

We do not think our words have value. We do not share our new ideas as loudly as we should, instead whispering them in the hopes that someone hears us. We do not want others to think we know better. We tread lightly so that others can see we know our place. We beat ourselves up before others can, that way we are ready for the disappointment.

Yet we tell our children that their words matter. That their voice should be heard around the world. That they should speak up, stand proud and stand tall behind the ideas they share. That their worth starts within them, not based on the opinions of others. We tell our children that they can make a difference if only they speak up. If only they dream. If only they try.

Yet our own actions do not fly so boldly. Instead we cower within the box we have placed ourselves in, even though the world needs our voices as well.

We forget that we have worth. That our words are worthy of an audience. That the ideas we carry within may help others as they have helped us. That although we may be unsure, we will not find greatness if we do not try. Our words have power. Our words have strength. Our words may take on a life of their own if only we release them. We all belong in the conversation, join in.

being me, books, reflection

Why the Time to Empower is Now

September 17, 2014 Pernille Ripp

This post originally appeared on Corwin’s Connected Educator site.

I remember the first time I was called to the principal’s office as an adult. The sweaty palms, my mind racing with questions, my heart in my throat. Questions about what I had done to spark a one-on-one meeting taunted me the whole way there, and it wasn’t until I sat down in the chair and my principal smiled at me that I actually took a breath. I don’t remember now what the conversation was about, probably something about my students, but the experience of being called into an unannounced meeting, of entering into someone else’s territory left a deep impression. It left me feeling powerless as I walked into a situation I knew nothing about. It also prompted me to think of what I did to my students whenever I held them back from recess silently admonishing them to stay behind, or asked to speak with them outside of my classroom. How they must have felt their adrenaline spike; how they must have wondered what they had done wrong.

The empowered school is one where all voices are heard, dissenting opinions are valued, and staff is trusted. The principal is not simply the leader, but a voice in the discussion—just not THE voice. Empowered teachers feel they have control over their work environment, that their voice is heard, and that their experience matters. Empowered students know that their opinion matters, that they have control over their learning journey, and that school is worth their time. All of this leads to an environment based on community and trust, where everyone knows they matter. Sound utopian? Perhaps, but it is not. The steps toward a better functioning school are easily started and integrated.That feeling of powerlessness and fear of what’s to come is a feeling I don’t want to give to children or school staff unless it is warranted. Yet, most of our schools are set up with a very clear hierarchy of power. The principal or lead administrator holds most of the control and delegates morsels of it to chosen people, much like in our classrooms where the teacher holds the rein of power and only briefly lets students take control. This type of structure works by feeding itself—all important decisions are made by those in power and one must be given power to have any importance. It is a structure that has not been questioned for a long time, but I feel it is time to spread the control. It is time to give schools back to the staff, to give classrooms back to the students, and to empower others.

The first step is to reflect on who has the power within your environment? Who makes decisions? How is the power given? Acknowledging our weaknesses is always our first step in the road to change. We cannot change what we refuse to face.

The next step is to actually spread the power. How can staff meetings or meetings with students signal a power change? How can decisions be made where more voices are heard? How can all of the stakeholders be more involved in the decisions that are made that affect everyone?

The third step on your way to change is to actually change. We spend an awful lot of time discussing new initiatives, planning for them, and even figuring out the best way to implement them, but then we never actually change. This is where our time should be spent, where our focus should be.

I wrote my new book, Empowered School, Empowered Students hoping to inspire others to shift the power held within their schools and classrooms; to start a discussion on who has the power within our school and what does that power structure mean for the entire community of learners. The book is intended to be a practical how-to guide to empower staff and students, to create a community where everyone has a voice, and to use that voice for the betterment of all. It can be done, and it should be done. Empowering staff and students to change the way we teach and learn is an urgent need in our educational society, and those changes don’t have to be big to make an impact.