reflection – Page 5 – Pernille Ripp

being a teacher, new year, reflection, Student-centered, students

I Know What Students Want So Why Do I Forget It?

August 9, 2014 Pernille Ripp

The new year anxiety and excitement is creeping in. The days are ticking down. I am awake more often with dreams of schools and ideas trailing around my mind. Can I do this? haunts me in my thoughts Do I know what I am doing? keeps me awake.

Then I remember. I know what students want. Not my new students, those I have yet to uncover, but year upon year when I have asked my students what they need from school and teachers their answers have been the same.

We need someone who cares.

We need someone who listens.

We need someone that believes in us. Notices when we are not there. We need someone who likes what they are doing.

They need us to be kind. To be honest. To be present.

They need us to have open minds, open hearts, and open arms.

They need a safe place to try.

But it is not just what they need that I remember. It is also what they want.

They want to be respected.

They want to be pushed.

They want us to see that having in fun in school does not mean learning has stopped.

They want to have a voice, to have choice, to know that their opinion matters and so do their ideas.

They want to know that what they are doing is relevant and not just because. They want to know we trust them,

They want to feel loved. To feel important.

They want what so many of us want; a place where they belong.

So why do we forget this every year? Why do we allow the curriculum to push us into a frenzy, forgetting about these most basic things?

Children don’t remember the tests, the homework, not even always that crazy, cool project you did. They don’t remember the posters, the seating, or even the rewards necessarily.

But they do remember how they felt, and that we can control. They do remember if our rooms felt like home, and whether they mattered. Don’t forget that as our year gets busy. We know what to do, just do it.

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” can be pre-ordered from Corwin Press now. Follow me on Twitter @PernilleRipp.

Be the change, being a teacher, new year, reflection, Student-centered, students

Just Fine is Not Enough

July 30, 2014 Pernille Ripp

Today, my baby twins turn two.Hard to think they were ever small enough to fit in my body when they stand in front of me demanding another waffle, another kiss, another story. And yet, two years is a long time, a lot has changed. Not only have they changed, but we have changed. The world has changed in ways we could never imagine. Sometimes on purpose, other times out of necessity. Change, as they say, is a constant.

I think of how we change in the classroom and how we often change based on what we need. We are after all the ones who wield most of the power. We are the ones who plan the lessons. Who chart the course. Who have to act in charge, even if we don’t feel it. We change when things don’t work for us, when things don’t fit into our framework of what our classrooms should look like. We change when the little voice inside tells us we need to. And sometimes we change because the kids ask us to. Then we get happy, we stay, we think our change is enough and the years start to tick by, and we forget that we ever needed the change because what we are doing seems to work just fine.

“Just fine…”something I hear so often when I ask people to whether they can change. We hold up our files of success, our pictures of kids engaged, we find the proof we need that things are working and kids are learning, that our change that happened so long ago was enough for now. Yet those kids are not the same, I see that in my own four kids. The twins are nothing like Theadora when she was two, the world has changed a lot since then. And when Augustine turns two, the world will have changed again, and so will the kids in it.

So be proud of your change, but check it too. You may have found it works “just fine” but is it time to change again? To fine-tune? To adapt? To throw it all out? Is it time to listen to the kids that are coming to you now, not those that you taught a few years ago. The ones who are excited to have you be their teacher this year. Is there change that needs to be done for them? I know there is for me.

being a teacher, being me, Reading, reflection, Uncategorized

So My Kids Did a Reading Challenge and All I Did Was Lie…Almost

July 23, 2014July 23, 2014 Pernille Ripp

It started as a great idea; new town, new library, let’s go explore! We went, we fawned (yes, fawned) over the incredible library and then we saw what I knew already would be there; The Summer Reading Challenge! Thea, my 5 year old, and the only one aware enough to notice it, saw it right away and began to ask questions. “What’s the robot for? How do I get a sticker? I want a bookmark!”

So I signed them all up, even the baby, thinking this would be great. No big deal, after all, we read a ton, a challenge and log will only cement that. With our library books in hand, our new brightly colored reading logs, we went home to start the epic summer reading challenge.

At first, it was no big deal. We read a book, I had our 4 booklets right there, and down they went onto the page. Thea would ask to read another because she wanted one more title in her book. Sure! I couldn’t believe how much we were reading. Then I started to forget, leaving the booklets in random places. I often forgot and then had to really think hard about what we were reading. It wasn’t that we weren’t reading, it was more that I didn’t carry a booklet with me when we did. I can’t find a pen half of the time. So although reading continued to surround us, I quickly noticed how much of a pain it was to write it down. Oh well, I figured this was the least I could do to keep a focus on readin g this summer.

Off we went to the library, proudly handing in our booklets and getting our prizes in return; stickers, baseball ticket, and even a temporary tattoo. More books came home with us and I couldn’t wait to just read them. Then, Thea started to ask me to read so she could win stuff. Yup. My ferocious book swallower didn’t care what I read to her, it could have been the back of a can for all that mattered, but she wanted to make sure she would get stuff when she went to the library next. When I asked her why it mattered, she innocently said, “Because I want to win!” with the look of a lion that’s about to devour its prey. Reading was not our chill out time anymore, it was our competition.

Then I got sick. And not just it’s a cold kind of sick, but flu sick, for 2 weeks. Yes, we read, barely, some days my throat couldn’t swallow so reading was more of a miming game. But we read because it’s what we do. Reading is what we have always done. Books go everywhere with us, books are the tapestry of our family, we recollect memories through books. We read until we fall asleep. Filling out a log was the furthest thing from my mind. After two weeks of being sick, I knew we had read, but what we had read and when we had done it; no clue. So I lied. I wrote in whatever titles I spotted in the living room, circled 15 minutes on every day. I was sure we had done it, don’t get me wrong, I didn’t pretend to read, but the details had completely escaped me.

Again we went to the library, completed booklets in hand, Thea ready to harvest her prizes. I handed the booklets to the librarians, sure that they would see through my deceit. Sure, that they would question why it was all written in the same color pen, why my initials looked the same every day. They didn’t, they meticulously checked each entry, then guided Thea toward the trinkets she had earned. I breathed a sigh of relief, we were done. Reading could go back to being about reading, not about winning.

I thought we were stronger than a reading challenge. That something like this would only enhance the experience we already have with our books, going against my own teacher voice. I thought we were better than this. That our reading would never be a chore, a competition, or something to lie about. I never thought that our joy for reading could be replaced with an eagerness to read simply for the act of writing a title down, not for the experience of the book itself. I was wrong, it was proven, and I ashamed. I should have known. I should have thought about it.

We are about to leave, Augustine wants a bottle and the twins need a nap. Then Then spots it; a shelf full of books with a pink poster. Win these! Do the Extra Reading Challenge! “Mama, what’s that?!” she exclaims eagerly pointing. “Nothing, honey, now let’s go find some books…”

being a teacher, being me, new year, reflection, Student-centered

In Defense of Boredom

July 21, 2014July 21, 2014 Pernille Ripp

You would think Thea, my 5 year old, would be in her element. Long lazy days to do whatever she wants. Beautiful afternoons to spend at the playground next door. Time to read, play, draw, dance, even watch TV. Heaven…except it’s not. Thea is bored. And she tells me frequently whenever I am not playing with her. Whenever we are not doing something.

At first, I jumped into action. Boredom dispelled with fun activities. Boredom banished by mama and her wallet. You want a dog and pony show, coming right up! Except it wasn’t enough, it never was. I found myself searching the web frantically looking for more great activities. Running to the store to buy more stuff. Turning on the TV as a last ditch attempt. Being a boredom buster became a full time job and I was exhausted. Since when did summer become one endless list of to do’s? If she was bored, well, then I was a bad mother.

This happens in our classrooms too. We think that if we aren’t putting on a show, we are not doing our job. That if students aren’t excited and loudly engaged at all times, we must be failing as teachers. We imagine that there will be no time to be bored. Students will practically skip into our classrooms, eager to start. And sure, some days they do. Those days are easy. It is the days where they drag their feet, have to prop open their eyes, stifle yawns and give you that look, those are the days where we really work.

Yet, much like I realized with Thea, it is not my job to be the boredom buster. It is my job to present learning opportunities that might engage, that might excite, that might spark an interest. But I can only do so much. I can only bring so much to the classroom, and at some point the students have to step up too. At some point, they have to embrace their boredom and find out what to do with it. How to work through it. How to be their own boredom busters.

We try to shield children from boredom and in our eagerness forget that being bored is a gift. Being bored is not a four-letter word. It is not something to avoid, nor something to ridicule. Out of boredom comes curiosity. Out of boredom rises innovation. If we do not give our students quiet time, time to reflect, time to be still, yes time they may see as boring, then we are robbing them of time to think.

We think that our classrooms should be loud at all times. That loudness equals learning. Yet, I have found that some of my most powerful teaching moments have been the quiet ones. Where students have had time to think, to be bored, to create, all without me putting on a show. Sure, loudness is important as well. But the true essence of innovation can often be found shrouded in silence, when students are asked to do something about their boredom.

So when Thea tells me she is bored, I ask her what she will do about it. She has run to her room and pulled on her princess dress only then to concoct an elaborate fantasy scene with parts for everyone in the family. She has quietly drawn pictures of things I would never imagine. She has gone to her room and sat with a book. She will never stop telling me she is bored, after all, it seems to be a rite of childhood, but I am no longer the one that rescues her. She is doing that herself. Let’s give the same chance to our students. Let us help them embrace being bored.

being a teacher, being me, reflection

I am Not a Rockstar, Please Don’t Confuse Me With One

July 17, 2014July 17, 2014 Pernille Ripp

Last night, I read Angela Watson’s recent post discussing the different ponds we swim in, how we can get stuck in our ponds, and how we all are big fish in our own small pond. She discusses also how depending on the place we are in, we may be a bigger or smaller fish. This has been bouncing around my head and I finally realized why I agreed with the post so much; it’s because I am nothing special. And yet the labels I am graciously given by others, would have me thinking otherwise.

We are so quick to label people. Within this weird PLN/social media/education world, we love labels even more as we spread them as tokens of our admiration and respect and yet they don’t fit for me. “Rockstar.” “The Best.” “Incredible.” We label people with more followers/more readers/more whatever it is… I have even been called a few of these things, much to the amusement of my husband.

Yet the truth is, I am not better than most. I am not always a great teacher. My words are not always inspirational. I lose my temper. I raise my voice. Lessons don’t work as planned. I am not always brilliant, or witty, or even ready with an answer. Nor are all of my blog posts amazing, some are pretty awful, and my brain doesn’t work differently than yours. I write fast. I read fast. But I am not in some way more gifted at being a teacher than others. I don’t know how to reach every child, or to make ever class amazing. I don’t know how to teach everything, nor do I want to.

I know how to share. I know how to reflect. I know how to face my own demons, most of the time. I know what it means to choose kind. To be nice. To be helpful. And to noth think that I am better than others. I have found a path that works for me and I gladly share it, but that does not mean that my path is better than yours.

So while the names and labels we give each other are flattering, that is really all they are. Do not think someone is out of your league. Do not think someone is higher up than you in this imagined hierarchy. I am not a rockstar, I am not in an inner circle of cool people. I am shy. I am an extroverted introvert who bumbles, blushes easily, and never knows what to wear or what to say when going to meet new people. I hate being at conferences alone. I hate the thought of disappointing others and not living up to what they think I might be. And yet, I am just me. I am nothing special, please don’t think I am.

Be the change, reflection, rewards, Student-centered

How Do You Reward Students When You Don’t Believe in Rewards?

July 13, 2014 Pernille Ripp

When I moved this blog to WordPress some posts did not survive, so in an effort to move some of my favorite posts with me, I will be republishing them here. This post first appeared in June, 2011.

It used to be when a student did something exceptional, I would place a cute sticker on their worksheet, homework, or test. I had a drawer just meant for stickers and I lovingly picked new ones for each year in the office catalogs. I also had Bravo certificates and even great stamps that quickly but distinctly told them exactly how I felt. Who doesn’t feel great after getting a stamp with a big thumb on it telling you “Thumbs Up!?” Sometimes, when I had a little more time, I would even write “Fantastic” next to that sticker just so that they knew I really meant it.

If the class was having a great day I couldn’t wait to dole out those kid points (if I remembered) so that they could earn another party. Never mind the fact that they knew they would earn it eventually because odds were they would have many more great days than bad days. I thought my kids knew that I thought they were great. I thought my kids understood why they were great. In fact, I even had an “Awesome Wall” where all the A+ work would go up. Of course, I hoped that all kids would eventually have their work prominently displayed, but truthfully some just never did.

So this year I threw it all away. Well, I kept the stickers but they are for my daughter and husband – he loves motivational stickers on his honey-do lists. The awesome wall got replaced with a world map, the kid/teacher points disappeared. And I felt so empty; after all, how would my kids know when they did a great job? Wouldn’t they miss the stickers and the fantastics? Ummm no. In fact, no kid ever asked me for a sticker this year. No kid ever asked me to explain their fantastic remark because I didn’t write them often. Truthfully I found out that kids really didn’t need those extrinsic rewards, that learning still happened, that the kids still stayed motivated, of course some days more than others because guess what, they are kids.

So in throwing out all of my rewards, I found out about the biggest reward of all; time. This simple concept that I know we have precious little of in a classroom is a hot commodity to everyone. Now when my kids deserve recognition (which they do every day) I give them time. Whether it is to take the time to speak to them about their work, or to write feedback. Whether it is to give them time to work or just time to speak to one another. How about time for a sledding party? Or time for 5 minutes of meditation after that awesome assembly? How about the time to just be a classroom, to just hang out and celebrate all the amazing things happening in our room, in our school, in our world?

So don’t feel like giving up rewards will steer your classroom management off course, I believe it will actually heighten it. I believe that when you push the superficial things out of the way, deeper connections arise and the students become more willing to share, more connected, more motivated. Finally, by getting rid of rewards I also gave myself the biggest one of all; the chance to connect deeper with my students. The chance to speak to them more. The chance to have them all be equals and not labeled and ranked according to grades or homework. The chance to finally all be “Fantastic.”