Pernille Ripp

I used to be the ruler of my universe; my classroom, the queen of the systems. You need to sharpen your pencil? There’s a system for that. You need to leave the classroom? Here is the system for that. How we walk down the hallway, how we get our jackets and backpacks. How we act when others come into the classroom, how we borrow books from the library, how we borrow supplies. Don’t answer the phone, don’t sit in my chair, don’t eat your food now, don’t, don’t don’t…Everything had a protocol, rules to be followed, always designated by me, and I was exhausted. I was so busy keeping track of all my check out sheets and reminders that I forgot to just enjoy what I was doing with the students. I was so wrapped up in managing my space that I lost focus on what was important and instead wasted time getting upset when my system wasn’t followed. It was time-consuming, overcomplicated, and downright ridiculous.

Yet I feared what I knew had to be the opposite of my contrived systems; chaos. I feared what would happen if I just let a kid check out a book without having them sign it out and leave it in their desk at the end of the day. I feared what would happen if I didn’t know who had which manipulative, or how many pencils someone had borrowed from me. Add that fear drove those systems forward until they got me so lost that I didn’t know the teacher I was anymore.

So I stopped the endless control. I “let” students borrow books from my library and take them home. After all, the worst that could happen if a book was lost was that another child might read it. I showed the students where I kept all of the supplies and let them grab what they wanted. I had them unpack and come in from the hallway in the way that suited them best; some need one trip, some need more. I stopped obsessing over our systems and gave the room to the students instead.

And the result? Not chaos as I had feared, but ownership. It turned out that these students knew exactly how to take care of our space and actually were a lot more invested when they felt it was theirs. They no longer come into my room, but into our room. They no longer ask permission to use a stapler or use some tape, they just do it. They fight me over my chair, and take pencils when they need. They now welcome others to our room, answer the phone with their name, and take over the space every day. I don’t manage them, but instead focus on our learning. Giving back the classroom to my students righted a wrong I didn’t know I had committed; I had taken their space from them. I often remind myself that teaching is not about me but all about them, and now our room reflects that. Does yours?

help, students

For the Kids Who Struggle with Division

November 15, 2011 Pernille Ripp

I need help; Some of my students struggle so with division. They get that division means to divide into equal parts, they get the concept, and we practice, practice, and practice long division until our eyes are weary. And yet,I can see their despair, they do not understand why we are doing the steps we do. So I need a different approach before we move on and put them further behind.

What can I do to make them see the light? I have them explain it to each other but even doing that doesn’t seem to change their understanding. We practice but that is not enough either. There are many smarter people out there, please lend me your ideas.

being me, label

Those that Matter

November 15, 2011 Pernille Ripp

I often think of the labels we bestow upon each other…hero, leader, expert, inspiration

And those we give to our students…smart, lazy, underachiever, confused, creative

And I wonder how often we miss the mark altogether?

How often does the label describe the whole person? How often do we truly know the whole person?

I do not do well with labels, and I laugh when others give them to me, but there are some I carry with me always, in awe that that I have them; mother, wife, teacher.

Those are the labels that matter

being a teacher, education reform, power

Every Day I Make a Choice

November 14, 2011 Pernille Ripp

Every morning I choose how I see the day. I could view it through the lens of most that I will not do enough to help my students, I will not be able to get them where I need them to be because the system is against us.

I could view the students as obstacles that need to be conquered and my colleagues as people who take up too much time or none at all. I could view my administration as the enemy, and my standards as chokeholds around my teaching. I could blame the system for my lack of progress and I could feel good that at least I tried. But I don’t.

I choose every morning to believe in my own abilities as a teacher and as a human being. I choose to be positive, thinking that today will be the best day I could ever make. Today my students will conquer mountains and guide me on new paths. My colleagues will inspire me if I reach out, and then will support me through my journey. My administration will hold me to high standards because they believe I will soar. The standards are simply guides and they can be worked with much easier than worked against. The standards do no tell me that I have to prep my students for tests, or even how I should teach, but only what our goals should be and those can be reached in many ways. I choose to fight the system from within and change it the way I can. I do it for my own sanity and for the curiosity of my students.

Every day I have a choice in how I will view the world, and although I wake up grumpy (just ask my husband), and bogged down by all of the forces working against me, I slip on my teacher super power suit and I stay positive. The last thing schools need is another person bringing it down. The world is already trying to do that. So what do you choose?

being a teacher, conferences, Student-centered

A Student-Led Conference

November 13, 2011 Pernille Ripp

There they sit, hands clutching the paper, eyes shifting a little back and forth; the responsibility clearly weighing on them and yet…If you look a little closer, you will also notice poise, presence, and a sneaking calm. The students are ready to state their goals, to own their learning; welcome to student-led conferences.

Most of these students have never been given the control of their conference so they are more nervous than they need to be, in fact, I think they get a little glimpse of how many teachers feel. They want to do well, they want to be able to answer the questions, they want to offer their parents hope and positivity. Yet they are not afraid to bare their shortcomings, they are not afraid to discuss what the path ahead looks like. They own their education.

I leave the meetings exhilarated and proud, we shared our journey and we previewed our path. Parents had tough questions but the students were honest in their answers. Parents leave feeling satisfied, proud of their children, and part of the process.

As educators, we wonder how we lose the engagement of our students and then do conferences to them. We do education to our students acting as if they have nothing at stake, pretending to be the one true expert that will fill the empty vessels. Even if we do student-centered learning, we then forget to shape our conferences on the same model; less me, more them. I could never go back to the old conferences.

being a teacher, being me, future, student driven, Student-centered

Why I Make My Life Harder

November 12, 2011 Pernille Ripp

Sometimes I wonder why I make my life so hard? Why do I let the students explore rather than just dictate what they are supposed to learn? Why do I fight for them not to be graded at every turn when just writing that percentage or that letter would free up so much of my time?

Why do I insist that we work things out rather than just punish them without a conversation? Why do I force myself to get the learning done in school rather than sending it home as homework?

Why do I fight for the creative spirit of these kids? Why do I challenge myself to change and grow when really I know that I am a decent teacher, isn’t that enough? Do they really deserve the best of me so that my family only gets the rest of me?

I make my life hard because our future is at stake. We are modeling the future of the world and I want it to be a beautiful one. I want it to be one where children believe in themselves as learners, where their creativity shines, and they are unafraid to fail. I want the world to be one in which I do not fear sending my own child to school, afraid that our system will kill her curiosity. I do this for my daughter and for all of the other children.