aha moment, being a teacher, being me

Know Your Place

Pernille Ripp

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When I was a second year teacher I was told to know my place.  To remember that although I might have a voice, I should be more careful.  That I should not ask so many questions, nor share quite so many ideas.  That some things would be better left unsaid because I had not earned the right to say them.  And not just told it either.  No, for extra emphasis it was written as part of my official evaluation that year.  In my permanent record lest I ever forget that I had a place to be in.  That the place I needed to be in was one of new teacher that followed most of the rules and certainly did not question so much.

I remember I went back to my classroom shell-shocked.  When I closed the door, I cried. Maybe this teaching thing was not for me after all.  Maybe asking questions was wrong.  It certainly seemed that way.

So I took the lesson to heart; I shut my door, metaphorically and literally.  I had to.  I could not face what some others saw me as; a know-it-all new teacher that thought she had such great ideas.  I skittered through the rest of the year watching every single word I spoke, always telling myself to just stay quiet, think it but not say it.  To hide the new.  To not share.  After all, I needed to stay in my place, whatever that place might be.

By the end of the year I wanted to quit.  It turns out that eating your own words leaves you hollow after awhile.  But I didn’t, instead I changed, and as they say; the rest is history.

So for the past 6 years I have carried those words with me.  I have known my place every single step of the way.  Never forgetting that I do have a place in this world, in education.  Never forgetting that, really, we all have a place if we only knew where.

So what I know now is that my place is with my students asking them what I can change. To realize that I am not a perfect teacher, nor do I have all of the answers, but that I will spend every ounce of energy I have to try to make it better for them.

That my place is among colleagues who push my thinking and always have what’s best for kids in mind.  That while we may not always agree, we always respect, we always have each other’s back even when we have to have tough conversations.

That my place is on this blog sharing how I screw up so that others may learn from it without having to experience it.

Among the teachers that feel alone, much like I did so many days as I tried to change myself.

Among the people who question and show up every day trying make themselves better because they know they have a long way to go.

Among those that still doubt but try any way.

Among those that dare to dream.

Among those that still cry when it hurts.

Among those that know that even a small change makes a difference.

Those that change.

Those that question.

Those that fight.

6 years ago I was told to know my place and so I went looking for it.    It was not pretty.  I was not perfect.  I was not always right.  I did not always know what I needed to know.  Yet within that quest, I found myself.  So I ask today; do you know your place?  Because if not, you should probably search for it some day.

If you like what you read here, consider reading my book Passionate Learners – How to Engage and Empower Your Students.  Also, if you are wondering where I will be in the coming year or would like to have me speak, please see this page.

 

 

being a teacher, Literacy, Reading

Will You Help Me With Research on Student Book Abandonment Habits

Pernille Ripp

Book abandonment and its effect on love of reading has been on my mind for a long time it seems.  Chalk it up to the fact that I am writing a book that falls into the literacy realm, to the fact that I am abandoning books like crazy myself, or that my students reading habits seem to vary seemingly from day to day.  Whatever the cause, I cannot help but wonder; what leads a child to abandon a book?  And how does book abandonment shape their future reading identity?

So as I try to gain more insight from my own students, I also would love if other students would help out.  Would you be willing to have your students (or own children) take my short survey?  It should take less than 10 minutes if even and should be fairly easy for students to take.  I imagine they may need to be n 3rd grade or up due to the questions but you may be the judge of that. The answers will probably be used in some way in my future writing since I have a feeling it will offer us insight into the minds of students and how we can use the act of book abandonment as a way to fuel change in our reading instruction and student reading identity.

Thank you so much.  Please share with as many colleagues as possible, if you would, I am looking for answers from as many kids as possible. If you would prefer the link to the service, it is right here https://docs.google.com/forms/d/15h2VKhC1t2SJc0V1_6IY4-9oBLDx4dkN1d2361vKMDs/viewform

aha moment, being a teacher, being me, books, Literacy, Reading

When Reading Becomes a To-Do

Pernille Ripp

I have been in the longest reading slump of my adult life this winter.  Books have been picked up and tossed aside.  My iPad and I have entered a new relationship level as I have committed to beat all levels of Candy Crush Jelly Saga.  I spent an entire plane ride to California thinking about how I should read and then not actually doing any reading.  Both ways.  And I have abandoned book upon book, only to feverishly cram the shortest book down in a half an hour so that I could my students that I was still reading.

What caused this reading disenchantment?  Pressure.  Pressure to find the perfect book for the Global Read Aloud.  Pressure to find an engaging story to beat the last engaging story I finished.  Pressure to read more than I read the week before.  Pressure to meet my goal.  Pressure to like a book that everyone else liked.  And yes, even pressure to read some of the mountain of books that sits next to my bed waiting to spill out of the bookshelves at the slightest movement.  Good thing, earthquakes are rare in Wisconsin.

On Monday, I realized that I loathed reading.  That I would have no problem not really reading for the next year or so.  That reading and I could certainly break up and I could fake it for a while, after all I did not really have to read all those books, I could just read their reviews and pass them off to students.  Yet, in that stark realization I found my key to salvation; reading had become a chore rather than something I do for pleasure.  Reading had been added to my to-do list right beside folding the laundry and answering email.  So I knew it it was time to reclaim my reading life.  To not let this one completely self-indulgent pleasure fade out of my life.  And since last night, I have gratefully sunk into the pages of a self-selected perfect for me book and rekindled  my love slowly, page by page, minute by minute.  There is still hope for me, I am not a lost cause, because deep down, I love reading.

Yet, I wonder about our students who loathe reading.

Whose fragile relationship with reading is one marred by well-meaning intentions from their teachers that tried to change their mind.  Who will gladly accept whatever book you hand them because then at least you will stop bugging them.  Who stare at a book not as a welcome friend but as a chore, a to-do, rather than a to-love.  Who are told what to read because they do not know how to find a book by themselves.  Who are limited in their choice because they certainly cannot read that book, whatever that book may be.

I worry about the kids who do not know that reading can be something incredible and therefore go through life eagerly awaiting the day that no adult will tell them to read.  Who cannot wait to fake read their way through the next book they are forced to read.  What a skill they can perfect right under our noses.

What will ever snap them out of their loathing when the things we do to help only cause them to hate it more?  When we tell them to stick with a book rather than abandon it, when we tell them to always write about their reading or log their minutes and don’t forget the parent signature.  When we tell them to find books at their level even if their heart calls out for another.  What will break them out of their pattern of reading not for enjoyment, not for fun, not for exploration, or self-preservation, but instead for the-teacher-said-I-had-to.  Will they know that reading is meant to be an act of love?  Of dreaming?  Or will they simply count the days when reading disappears from their to-do list never to return.

I fell in love with reading because I was given the space to grow as one.  I was given the trust to pick my books and to abandon them as well.  To not produce after I read but instead be given more time to read.  I fell in love with reading not because a teacher told me I had to but because my heart longed for the pages of a book.  Can our students hear their hearts in our classrooms or does our teaching get in the way?  I think it is time we stopped and listened.

If you like what you read here, consider reading my book Passionate Learners – How to Engage and Empower Your Students.  Also, if you are wondering where I will be in the coming year or would like to have me speak, please see this page.

Be the change, being a teacher, challenge, global, Student

1 School 1 World – What Did We Learn #1S1W

Pernille Ripp

Sometimes my crazy ideas get ahead of my own brain in all of the best of ways, such was the case of 1 School 1 World , a social media initiative that was meant to showcase schools around the world using a common hashtag #1S1W.  I wanted my students to see not just how we are different, but more so how we are all the same.  And so  I shared the idea with the world and today, February 22nd,schools around the world participated.

As I showed my students the stream of pictures throughout the day, we couldn’t help but marvel at so much.  The sun in New Zealand, the sheep in Australia, the gym in Denmark, the wooden tables of Serbia.  We saw the differences, sure, but we also saw so much of the same.  It turns out that many of our classrooms look like they could be in the same school.

Yet, as the day went on, we started to notice not just how alike we were but also the incredible differences there were in school buildings, activities done, and even technology showcased.  As we tweeted out asking people to show us pictures of their libraries, one person responded that their school did not have one due to money.  That was a sobering notion for many kids.

And this is what stopped my heart today and what continues to run through my head tonight.  While this day was meant to share our learning environments, it also inherently shared our privileges; schools that have the tools to share in the first place.  Teachers that have the ability to show off their environments without the fear of being in trouble with administration or school boards.  Buildings that were mostly well kept and learning environments that were inviting to students.  Yet, we all know that this is not what learning looks like for many students, not just across the world, but right here in the USA.

There were voices missing, which I expected, but I did not expect how hard it would hit me once again just how lucky I am to teach in a district that is well-funded and community supported in many ways.  There are so many teachers that do not have that privilege.  There are so many kids that do not have that reality.

So as I digest the many images together with my students, I plan to ask them to look at how we are similar, how we are different, but then I also plan on asking them to look for the missing images.  For the schools that are not represented in these pictures.  For the kids that are not represented.  To see if they can figure it out. To see what they will come up with.   This will be the seed for further exploration.  This will be the seed that somehow will carry us forward.  To what I am not sure, but we know that a change in society can start with us, but not if we don’t start the conversations.

And if you joined today; thank you.  Sometimes all it takes for us to get to know each other is a simple hashtag.  Keep connecting.  Keep sharing.  Keep discussing and then do something about what you see.  We teach the future of the world, let’s never forget that.

To see the Storify of all of the pictures I could find, go here.

Thank you Ben Wilkoff for pulling 400 or so pictures and putting them in Google photo.

being a student, being a teacher, being me, punishment

When We Don’t Just Punish

Pernille Ripp

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He stares at me in silence, eyes cutting through me like knives.  He turns his back, message sent loud and clear; conversation over, nothing resolved.    And I feel my heart beat faster, my judgment gets cloudy and part of me wants to punish.  Wants to give a consequence.  How dare you turn your back, how dare you refuse, how dare you not do as you are told.

I could send him out, I could call the principal.  I could take away, I could call home. I could punish, many probably would, yet I know that it wont solve, it wont make it better. I need a solution and that wont come from a phone call, a detention, public shaming through a behavior chart, or a lost privilege.  In fact, it won’t come from corporal punishment either although some states still seem to think so.  The answer doesn’t lie within the punishment. It hardly ever does.

So when we don’t punish a child, when we don’t force them into behaving, then what?  When we lose the easy way out, and trust me punishing a child is always the easy way out, then what do we do?  We worry, we reflect, we reach out to to others, and we don’t give up.  We search for answers that may not be easily found and we realize just how inherently human we are.  That it is hard to work with students who seem to take pleasure in finding every one of our buttons and then pushing them over and over.  Just waiting for our reaction, waiting for when we will give up and finally dole out a punishment.  That sometimes, even when you have been teaching for a while, you do not have all of the fixes and that when you are working with human beings there are no easy answers.

His back glares at me, seemingly waiting for my response, and so I clear my throat, clench my fist and say, “I am here if you need me” and I walk away.

That day I didn’t solve the problem.   Complicated situations always take more time.  In fact, I wonder if I ever will, but I know that if I had punished, if I had gone down my list of what to do that someone taught me in college, that child would not have changed.  He would have dug his heels in and fought me harder.  Because sometimes the kids that push us away.  Sometimes the kids that fight us the hardest.  Sometimes the kids that seem like they hate us with every fiber of their being are the ones that need us the most.  Even if they find the hardest way to show it.

So I will continue to take deep breaths, knowing that tomorrow brings a new day.  To realize that perhaps this is personal because it really is, because in the defiance is a test of relationship; how far can I push before the love is gone.  How far can I go before this teacher finally snaps.

I am only human but within my own humanity I find my answer; don’t give up.  Keep trying.  Stay the course.  Don’t punish but continue to be there.  Continue to try.  Sometimes simply not giving up is the only answer we need.

If you like what you read here, consider reading my book Passionate Learners – How to Engage and Empower Your Students.  Also, if you are wondering where I will be in the coming year or would like to have me speak, please see this page.

 

being a student, being a teacher, student choice, student voice

When We Forget to Ask – On Student Privacy and Sharing All the Good

Pernille Ripp

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I was schooled in student privacy the first time I asked to take my students online.  Protect, teach, and keep them safe were drilled into me as we connected and explored the online world.   I thought I pretty much  knew what I couldn’t share; all the sensitive or bad stuff, and thought I knew what I could share; all the good stuff.  I thought all of my students wanted to share their blogs.  That all of my students wanted their accomplishments made public.  That when they did well they, of course, they wanted the world to know.  After all, we are a culture driven by success stories.

Yet, year after year my thinking has been challenged.  First by a 4th grader who told me she had no need for a certificate stapled to her math test as it made something private public.  Then by a 5th grader that dared to ask why I assumed he would want his blog to be public.  And finally, last year by a 7th grader who told me to tell the world that no one else had the right to know that she was on the honor roll.

Every time a student has challenged me, I have learned something.  Every time they have stood up for their own privacy, I have been reminded of my own flippancy.  Every time, I feel the urge to share all of the good I remember that I do not automatically have the right, that the students also have the right to say no, that that is not just something we leave up to parents.

So I speak for my students who challenged me to rethink my stance in privacy.  I speak for those kids that asked me to think before I shared.  Not just for the parents who said no, but for the kids that never said yes.

So before you publish that honor roll.

Before you make that blog public.

Before you move their clip to the positive zone or give them that point (“Ding!”) or hand them that award.

Before you tweet that picture, or print it, or email it, or share it with the world.

Before you use that student example (name redacted of course).

Before you share that great learning moment with the world.

Before you share what a kid has done.  Even if it was amazing.

Please ask them if you may.

Please ask them if they would be alright with the whole world (potentially) seeing their thoughts, their work, their accomplishment.

Please ask them if they would like the attention that may come from it or if they would rather not be celebrated publicly.

And if they say no, respect it.

We assume that every kid wants to be praised in public.

We assume that every kid wants to be honored in public.

We assume that every kid wants to share their great grades in public.

But we don’t know every kid.

So ask them first.

Their answer may surprise you.

I know it certainly surprised me.

If you like what you read here, consider reading my book Passionate Learners – How to Engage and Empower Your Students.  Also, if you are wondering where I will be in the coming year or would like to have me speak, please see this page.