Aimee surprised me today with this…
How can you not love what you do as a teacher?
A Child Tells Me How He Really Feels
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| image from icanread |
There are those kids that don’t sneak into our hearts but instead kick the door down, scream for a while, and then try to leave again. Those kids that make the most noise, that fight us the most, that make sure that we stay on our toes every single moment they are in our presence. Those kids that you will miss the most even if they were the ones that kept you up the latest every night as you wondered how you would reach them, connect with them, support them as learners.
I have had many of these kids and this year is no different. Tom (name changed of course) came into my life with the loudest of voices and the most hatred toward writing I have ever met in a child. It wasn’t just that he didn’t know what to write, he simply didn’t want to write. Ever. Not even his name. Or the date. Or what his favorite thing was. Tom hated writing and told me this repeatedly. He would rather get kicked to the office, he would rather be yelled at by the principal, he would rather yell at me than write. And yet, I kept at it, helping him, supporting him, pushing him each and every day, refusing to give give in, refusing to take the bait and yell. But more importantly than me, he started believing in himself. He started to write just a little, even if it was through lots of complaints. He picked up his pencil and wrote just enough so that i would leave him alone, enough so he could show he got it. So today he handed me this memoir to finish the year…
My worst day ever was when I met Mrs.Ripp it was so boring all we did was just talk about something I forgot. she was so bogus for noting. I didn’t even do anything she was just being mean I would hate to be Mrs.Ripps class next year I’m telling you the truth Mrs.Ripp. You were as mean as a pitbull.You can be so bogus sometimes and the worst teacher but sometimes she can be nice other times she mean in the morning she’s nice but in the afternoon she’s mean but I think she will be nice to her other students.She nice to be on the first day but the second day she was super mean and I was just minding my business doing me.I hope she nice to her other class.she even taking minutes off of the field trip and thats not fair that was bogus I got 10 minutes because I didn’t do my thing but dang just mean.
Some teacher may get upset. Some teachers may think it is rude. But I am not that teacher. I love this writing. I love his honesty, his use of periods, and the fact that he used a simile. I love that he had me read it aloud to the class and that he smiled when he handed it in. Look at how much he wrote! Look at what he did. He wrote and that to me is the biggest victory ever.
I will miss him a lot, every noise, every fight, every refusal or complaint. My classroom will feel too quiet after he moves on. And I think he might miss me a little too, even if I am the meanest teacher ever.
When Do We As Parents Have a Right to Speak Up?
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| image from icanread |
The last many Saturday’s have been spent watching Theadora try to do gymnastics. With every glance our way, every smile, every shriek I can see just how excited she is. Yet it is not just her I see though, every Saturday I have also watched her gymnastics teacher and seen how her style affects Thea. You can call her style it nonchalant at best; she models a move once and then steps off to the side letting the kids try it, never once modeling it again. While Thea tries her hardest most of the time her move looks little like the one just shown and I wonder if she will ever be able to get it if the teacher doesn’t teach better. Yet I keep my mouth shut feeling like it is not my place to say anything about how my daughter would learn best because the teacher is a professional and surely must know what she is doing, right?
It is not that the teacher is bad, she isn’t, she just isn’t that great either but I let it slide because it is “just gymnastics” and I hold back because I don’t want to be THAT parent who knows better. That parent that corrects or advises, all in the best interest of their child. Yet every Saturday I really want to be that parent. While gymnastics is not life altering, Thea starts 4K in September, putting her with teachers that will mold her for the rest of her life, and that leaves me wondering.
So I wonder when do we as parents speak up for our child? When do we let a teacher know that there are better ways to teach? I think being a teacher and a parent puts us at distinct disadvantage because we know how it feels when a parent tries to steer us in a new direction, and so because we are teachers should we just keep our mouths shut if it is not “that bad?” Perhaps we are just too nice overall to anyone that teaches because we know how it feels?
A recent post by Josh Stumpenhorst has made me ponder just how nice we are as a teachers. We like to say that we are all great teachers and we certainly don’t ever tell a teacher we know that they should change. But I wonder; why not? Being nice to someone isn’t going to make them a better teacher, they are just going to think they are and then who are we helping?
So when do we step in and try to guide? How bad does it have to be? Do we keep our mouth shut until it gets really bad or is there a way to tactfully help?
Could We Please Stop Making Each Other Feel Bad?
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| image from icanread |
Yesterday I received the news that I am among 5 educators nominated for Elementary Teacher of the Year by the Academy of Education Arts and Sciences, otherwise known as the Bammy Awards. Do you know who I told? My mom and my husband. I didn’t go next door to tell my teammates, I didn’t tweet it out until later when others had congratulated me. I only told my principal because I may take a day off to go to the ceremony. I certainly did not post it to Facebook. This huge moment in my short teaching life was not something I felt comfortable sharing with others because I was afraid that they may get upset. I was afraid of the negative reactions I was sure to get by telling others.
After witnessing the usual banter back and forth on Twitter about how we shouldn’t have awards for teachers or anyone within education because there are no winners, we are all winners, and no one should feel like they deserve recognition because it goes against what we stand for as educators, I felt completely deflated. We are so good at making each other feel bad. We are so good at feeling that our philosophy for education and educators should encompass everyone else. We are so good at taking moments that should be celebrated and turning them into moments of shame.
I grew up in a society marked by “Janteloven” which in essence means you are no better than anyone else. That you should never stick your head above the crowd or promote yourself. It squelched much creativity within my country, it squelched individualism, and pride in what people accomplished. You never dared tell others when you were recognized. Little did I know how similar the North American education society is to Danish society. How dare we be excited when we are recognized? How dare we tell others because if we tell others it must mean that we think we are better than them!
If I cannot stand up and be proud that the Global Read Aloud is getting recognition (because that is what led to my nomination) than what have we become? We have become no better than all of the politicians who swear we are the root of all of the problems in education. We are no better than the journalists that love sensationalizing whenever a teacher messes up. We are no better than the commentators who tell us to quit our whining and get a real job. We are no better than the teachers that sit in the teachers lounge and bash anyone who tries something new. If we continue to make each other feel bad whenever we should be celebrating we are no better than the people we fight.
There will never be enough awards to hand out to all of those that should get an award. There will never be enough recognition to give to everyone, but if we squelch the movements that are springing up to turn the tide of teacher bashing, then we are giving those who hate us a helping hand. There are many brilliant people in education, this is not about winning or losing, but instead finally saying that there are many people out there who do incredible things every day with what they have been giving. We should stand up and cheer every time someone gets recognized within the education community , not chastise them or make them feel as traitors to our mission. We are not fighting each other, we are fighting for our children. And I for one will applaud anyone ho gets any kind of positive recognition
Can A School Be Great If the Principal Isn’t?
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| image from icanread |
I have been thinking a lot about principals lately, and not because I am here to say they are not needed, but more considering just how important the role can be to a school. In fact it seems that so much depends on the principal.
The principal is the natural face of the school, they serve as the filter for district administration, the state, media, and anxious new parents. They serve as the mouthpiece highlighting hopefully all of the amazing things that are happening. They are the ones that praise and share all the great work that is done at their school. They are also the ones that add new team members and try to guide teachers to become more effective. They are in a sense the connecting point of the school; a steady presence with ever evolving teachers and new students. They can unify a school or tear it apart. They can lift a school up or bring it further down. They can highlight or they can forget to mention. They can advocate and practice unity or they can cause true separation. And while they are not the only parts of the school that make it run or function, they are unique in their singularity; no one else carries as much overall responsibility as they do. No one else is looked to as the point that connects everyone else. No one else seems to have so much say, so much weight to their words, so much power behind their decisions. At least not anyone that I can think of within a single school.
So it leads me to wonder; a school can be filled with all the best teachers, but can it truly be great if the principal isn’t amazing as well?
I would love to hear your thoughts.
What My Students Taught Me This Year
This year was one of those years that I will always smile about. This year with these kids is one of those years that went just a little too fast. Where the kids grew a little too quick and our final days together came a little too soon (9 days left). Being out the first two months with the twins didn’t help this year either. I learned so many lessons this year all because of these kids. So what these kids taught me was
That to create passionate readers you must be a passionate reader yourself.
That to get kids to read you have to give them time to read.
That to get kids to open up in their writing you have to do the piece yourself and then share it when it is your turn.
That poetry is best done without thinking about rules or rhyming, at least most of the time.
That it is ok to cry in front of the kids when you read that part in “Love that Dog” or that part in “The One and Only Ivan” or that part in “Wonder.”
That when the world stands still because your read aloud is so good that you should really just keep reading.
That when an author tweets you back it is something to scream aloud about.
That when a kid thrusts a book into your hands urging you to read it, you should read it as soon as possible.
That when a kid asks you a question you cannot answer take the time to try to figure it out.
That when a kid asks for a break right after recess they really need a break.
That when a really good song comes on your ipod during math it is ok to turn it up and have a little dance break.
That is ok to admit when you bungled a math concept and then figure it out together.
That it is never too late to ask why, never too late to change your plans, never too late to ask the kids what they think.
That often silence is the best way to start a conversation.
What did your kids teach you this year?
Pernille Ripp 