Change Doesn't Have to be All or Nothing

I remember the first orientation day when I had to face parents and explain to them that their child would probably not have much homework in my classroom.  I remember the fear that almost made me choke on my words, the way I had to remind myself to look up, the way I held my breath waiting for a reaction.  Then I added that instead of letter grades students would get feedback and we would set goals, grades would only show up on trimester report cards and no where else.  By now I was breaking into a cold sweat, my stomach churning, hands were clammy.  Somebody had to react, and then...nothing.  No raised hands, no sour faces, just a quiet wait for what else I had to share. 

Big changes for sure coming from this sophomore teacher.  Big changes that I felt had been necessary for me to be a better teacher and to provide a better education for the students.  Big changes that I had decided to do all at once.  And yet, you don't have to.  Even though I speak passionately about how throwing out grades or limiting homework has been the best decision I have ever made, that is exactly it; it was my decision.  Something that I knew I had to do to restore my sanity, my passion for teaching.  And yet, that doesn't mean it is going to work for you.  Perhaps my ideas are too extreme, or just do not fit with your educational philosophy and that is perfectly fine.  But maybe, just maybe, you would be willing to try it for just one little assignment?

Perhaps you are curious but just not ready to go all out.  Perhaps the idea of limiting homework overall sounds insane but maybe it could be tried for a unit?  Perhaps rather than a letter grade, for one project, feedback could be given or students could assess themselves?  Perhaps just trying something different one time will work better for you?  Perhaps, you might like it, perhaps you wont, but perhaps one time will change your mind?

As a first year teacher, if someone had told me to limit homework, or to get rid of grades, I would have rolled my eyes and not listened.  I would have thought them radical, extreme, or totally clueless.  I was not ready for that type of teaching.  I was not ready to take my teaching in that direction.  That direction had to come from within me, the timing had to be right, as did the purpose.   And that is ok.  It is ok to not embrace what Alfie Kohn says.  It is ok to have faith in whatever one believes is the way to teach, there is room for us all in education.  But perhaps, we should all try something else, just once, and then see if that change is meant for us or not. 

Gender Bias in Assessment - Even Students Do It, Do You?

"...But Mrs. Ripp, it is sloppy so they cannot get a 4..."
"... We can hardly read their explanation so we gave it a lower grade... "

All comments that made me think in today's math class as students were assessing work samples to get them ready to assess their own work.  Their open response work involved multiple steps, illustrations and explaining their work. They were therefore provided what we as teachers are provided; student sample work to figure out what the work was worth based on a 4-0 rubric.  After partner discussions, students shared their rankings of the problems and the most common discussion point was the sloppiness of the writing, not the math presented, not the explantion, not whether they followed directions; instead a laser-like focus on handwriting neatness and presentation.

I kept my mouth shut and handed them all a post-it note, asked them to copy a sentence off the board and write their name lightly on the back of the post-it.  I didn't ask them to take special care with their note, just write it down.  They handed them in and one-by-one I asked them to decide whether a note was sloppy or not as shown under the document camera.  I didn't know the names of the note writers but sure enough all the notes that were deemed neat and not sloppy were those written by girls.  Not a single boy post-it note was in the pile.  My students sat quietly as I gave them some think time.  Then I said; "If you were a boy and I assessed your work based on your handwriting presentation you would not be able to get a full score.  You would never be able to acheive what a girl can achieve in this class."  Silence and crazy stares. 

When teachers base part of their grade on handwriting and neatness, particularly at the elementary level, we forget one important thing; handwriting is often determined more by our fine motor skill development and not the effort placed in the work.  Neat handwriting does not mean a fuller understanding or a better writer, it does not mean more care was taken with the work, or that more effort was put in.  Neat handwriting means just that; neat handwriting.  So unless that is what we are specifically assessing it should not be part of our assessment, even if our inner voice screams at us to include it.

Try the same experiment with your students, see if you get similar results and then watch them discuss it.  Watch them realize how their knowledge is judged based on their handwriting.  Watch them gain a deeper understanding of all of the inner voices they carry telling them what makes work quality or not.  It is quite a realization for teachers and students alike.

Students Define Letter Grades

My students took some time today to discuss what the different letter grades mean to them in preparation for their determination of their own grades.  I was absolutely captivated by what they thought and to me it once again speaks clearly as to why letter grades are not the solution to reporting progress.  (Note: F's are not attainable in my class since I have yet to meet a kid that isn't learning something).

So an "A" means:

• A students understands completely
• Participates in the discussion
• Is enthusiastic about school
• Always gives best effort
• Shows lots of progress
• Understands almost everything
• And has a great attitude 

A "B" means:

• Understands concepts most of the time
• Fulfills most of the things to get an A but not all
• Has good effort but could do more
• Shows a little bit of progress
• Understands a lot and gives a great effort
• And has a good attitude

A "C" means:

• Pays little attention
• Could try better
• Developing as a learner
• You are not trying your hardest
• Could use some improvement
• Average attitude

A "D" means:

• Does not understand content
• Do not show their knowledge and strengths
• Needs to listen more to better understand
• Only understands a little
• Is not focused
• Needs a lot of help
• And works poorly by themselves

What a stigma change between "B" and "C!"  This definitely is providing me with food for thought.

Why the Report Card Should Be Getting an F

Several days ago I quickly jotted down thoughts on how one of the major components of education; the report card, may just be becoming obsolete. Immediately the discussion that followed was one that spurred me to think a little deeper on this institution, particularly as I approach the deadline for writing 25 of my own.

The report card used to be useful. Before the age of Internet and faster communication with parents, the report card was the communicator of success or lack of it from school. We have all heard the stories of what happened when a bad report card was brought home and can probably remember our own anticipation or dread when it was handed to us. This was it; the ultimate report on how hard we had worked, how much we knew, and how much we cared about school. The was no conversation, no goals, just grades and teachers recited missives which on mine included the usual, "Pernille should really try to apply herself more.". Whatever in the world that means.

Yet now, faced with the ever-evolving tools for communication and also teachers own increased visibility and feedback giving, it seems it has lost its purpose. That is if its purpose was to report how the child is doing academically.  Instead many teachers have running grades online; which I don't actually think is necessarily progress either, or feedback is given to the students or sent home regularly.  In my own classroom, I meet with students regularly setting goals and discussing how they are doing, not even handing them a letter grade but rather feedback and meaningful conversation.  This does get communicated to parents as well either through email, phone calls, or even small meetings.  Conferences also act as a communicator of progress and goals.  I may be in the minority of how I handle progress in my classroom, but I think I am in the growing minority.  So why also do a report card?  It seems to be a duplication of all of the work we already do although it does provide an easy out for those who choose not to communicate throughout the semester.

So if the report card's purpose is solely to communicate to parents how their child is doing, there are certainly other alternatives.  How about a weekly email or note, penned by the student?  Or a shared Google doc where parents and students can add notes and questions?  Conversations can be recorded using a Livescribe pen and emailed to parents as well, which also creates another record.  In my team we already send home unit math scores breaking down each skill the student has been practicing.  Writing assignments are handed back with a rubric attached and comments on them.  To me, it seems that we already do all of the reporting that is duplicated for the report card.  What about a report card created by students?  I often wonder what they would put weight on and choose to report, and also how it would look.  Either way I think it is time for a change, do you?

So is it time for the report card to disappear or at the very least lose its formality?  Is it time for it to no longer be the final product and instead be a piece of information in a long line of information.  Should we hand back the power of goal communication to the students so that they can take more charge of their education?  I would love to hear your thoughts.

Is the Report Card Obsolete?

Today I was asked what I have against report cards and as I stood there explaining my stance on grades something dawned on me; if we keep parents informed throughout the semester or trimester, do we really need report cards?  After all, I continuously meet with my students and offer them feedback and we set and work on their goals.  I send home more detailed feedback for parents to peruse so then doesn't the purpose of the report card become obsolete?  In fact, the report card may work against our philosophy of students as developing learners since we chunk their development and their learning into artificial calendar dates as determined by the district.   Something unnecessary and just a tad bit redundant.

So I leave with this thought; could we abolish report cards altogether?  Or are they a necessary component of our reporting to students and parents?  Are they simply an overview or a snapshot rather than the entry ticket into college and free pizza?

Some Questions on Labels

Those struggling learners, the reluctant readers, the underachievers. All labels heard in schools on a daily basis. The tired ones, the creative types, the giften, the talented, the fidgeters, the lazy students. We label and label in order to define them all, to fit them all into a box under the pretense of being better teachers, of making our jobs easier, more manageable, more suited for differentiation. After all, if we don't label then how will we know who needs which services? If we do not label then who will we teach at what time? How will class lists be made up to ensure balanced needs? We may not be tracking our atudents openly but the labels keep on coming.

I often ponder labels and what effect they have had on my own life. Some teachers labeled me gifted, I was not, only gifted through circumstance. Others labeled me underachieving, where rather it was in response to the teaching method. I was labeled opinionated in history, that one stuck, outspoken in English, talentless in math, and relentless in my pursuit of academic excellence in college. Labels shaped my education whether I agreed with them or not, yet how often were they shared with me? How often was I aware of what category I was placed in? And worse, how often when I was aware did it become my definition?

Some will inevitably argue that if we do not label our students whether through tests or grades then how will we rank them? How will we teach them best? If we don't know who our strugglers are then how will we reach them? I don't know. But what happens when those labels become all we see? What happens when the labels end up defining the student rather than the student defining the label. What happens when one teacher's comment becomes the mold we force the student into? Can we label our students without actually harming them and impeding their learning? Can we genuinely categorize students as struggling when they are perhaps just learning at a different pace?

I hope someone has the answer.

What I Pass On to My Daughter

After reading an excellent article discussing the danger of praising children on their smarts, my husband and I ended up discussing our own method for raising our daughter, Thea.  After a while, I commented, that I hope I am not one of those teacher mom's that is hard for her teachers to deal with.  The one that is too over-involved because they believe to the core that their child is smart, funny, articulate, and creative (not gifted, just normal smart).  My husband was kind enough to let me know that he would help me control myself but then posed an excellent question; what if our daughter is just like me?

Most people would jump for joy if their children turned out just like them.  And sure, there are many qualities that I wish I could just pass on to Thea.  I have a pretty good sense of sarcasm and humor, I love abundantly and loudly.  I am honest to a fault (surprise!) and I work very hard at my goals.  I am a nurturer, a believer in people, and a devoted friend, wife, sister, and daughter.  These are all fine qualities that I know Thea will have as well.  However, there are things that I hope she misses out on from me and instead takes after my husband.

You see, I am an overachiever.

Ever since grade school where my mother was told I needed to apply myself, I have had a very twisted view of education for myself.  Not only is it something to master, but it must be conquered, slayed, and nullified for me to be pleased.  I went through college working full-time and taking 18 or more credits every semester.  I was that student that always raised their hand, always had an answer, or even worse an opinion.  I was past the point of really caring whether others liked me or not, I was there to get a good grade - an A - and nothing else.  And I did.  I ended up graduating Summa Cum Laude with a 4.0 GPA.  No one was prouder than myself.  I thought I had done it, I was on top of the world with my diploma and my drive.  My family was just thrilled that this maniacal journey was over.  See no one really cares what your GPA is once you graduate. They had explained this to me before, but still I was relentless.  I pushed myself so hard that I had a panic attack before leaving for my honeymoon because of a science exam.  I worked and worked, always trying to get it just right, making it perfect, and for what?  A diploma?

So when I think of qualities for my daughter to inherit, being an overachiever is not something I wish for her.  In fact I don't wish it on anyone.  Instead, I hope for her to have fun with learning, to realize that grades are not the end all, that the award is truly the learning journey and not the end result.  I carry this hope for my students as well.  I want them to experience school as a place to explore and gain knowledge, not to join a race to the top, always pushing for better grades and more rewards.  I want to stop the insanity before it becomes so infested in their soul that they end up like me; pushing themselves to perfection and forgetting to enjoy the journey.  What luxury it is to get an education, isn't it about time we teach our students to enjoy the ride?

Which qualities do you wish your children or students get or do not get?  What would you change?

Why Top Down isn't Always Bad

This letter is part of a series of letters taking place between  Jeremy Macdonald @MrMacnology, a 5th grade teacher in Oregon, and Pernille Ripp @4thgrdteacher, 4th grade teacher in Wisconsin; two educators who for the first time are attempting a no grades classroom, as well as limited homework.  We share our thoughts and struggles with creating the best learning environment for our students so that others may learn something as well.  To see the other letters, please visit us here or here.


Hello again,

Initially I was going to start out with more questions in reply to your post, and yes, it is a total reflection of my personality, and then I thought why not reflect a little and then bombard you with questions later?

So I get the time restraint when it came to sharing student grades with them before report cards went home.  I send mine home tomorrow and getting to all 25 students last week was a stretch but I am so glad I did.  Each child was asked to reflect on their own grades - I have to give letter grades - and then meet with me.  The scale is simple A = Secure, B = developing and C = Beginning.  You know how I feel about students failing in 4th grade so that simply is not an option for a grade.  And besides, aren't we so vigorously trying to push our students further away from equating learning with a grade?  Anyway, this format turned out to be informative and wonderful.  Most students rated their knowledge level at the same point as I would have, some were way too harsh on themselves leading to in-depth conversations about self-esteem and math, in particular.  Some, of course, were not even quite sure what the grades meant and had therefore thought A's looked pretty good.  There were tougher conversations but in the end I felt good and I think the kids did too.  See, there will be no ugly surprises tomorrow.  No hiding report cards from parents.  Or pretending to not care about that stupid thing anyway.  I remember feeling like I betrayed the kids on their report cards in earlier years; where was their warning before this had to be taken home?  Instead, the students feel that they know why they are getting the grade they are getting and also that they have the responsibility for that grade.  No longer is the grade the final product of the trimester but rather the beginning of the next one.  What do we know and where do we need to go with it?  Relief...

Ok, I get the learning is learning and we must be excited about all of it.  But can't we just admit to ourselves that bringing technology into the room does appear more exciting than just plain old paper and pencil?  Of course, this is a broad generalization fore there are times when paper and pen are best, but come on, let's be honest here; those kids light up when they can incorporate anything tech into the lesson.  Perhaps in 20 years, paper and pencil will be the novel thing to do and will reclaim some of its lost glory.  

My final point about setting students up for disappointment leads me to another falsehood that we as teachers love to repeat to ourselves when we worry about passing students on the following year.  "All students will adapt and grow to love that classroom and learning environment!"  We pacify ourselves with that statement enough to where we can find ourselves repeating it when having discussions about different learning environments.  I think it is bogus.  I remember years that I hated going to school simply because the learning environment was stodgy and boring and nothing like what I was used to.  Of course, students are adaptable and flexible and all that, but shouldn't we have some sort of technology consensus or minimum of integration at a school at least?  And yes I am dreaming for I know what I am up against but sometimes top-down decisions can prove to be a blessing in disguise.  Now who to persuade on that?

And hey, Macdonald,"Ripp" is what one of my favoritest students on the spectrum calls me.  No titles, no formalities, just a name.  I wouldn't have it any other way.

How Homework Destroys

It finally happened; a parent decided to disagree with my new take on homework. They do not feel that I am providing enough and thus am doing a disservice to the students by lulling them into a fake sense of security in their skills. My response at first was indignation; how dare so and so question my fantastic educational shift in philosophy. Why are they not enlightened or believers as well? And then it dawned on me; I have not shown them the way.

I spend a lot of time speaking to students about what we are doing, why we are doing it, and what the goal is for their learning but not enough explaining that to the parents. And while I hope that parents have faith in me, I cannot take it for granted. I am, after all, messing with a system that has been set in place for many years and that these same parents are products of. So, of course, my system may come as a shock at first, and without the proper explanation it will continue to be so. After all, parents have been trained to think that for every grade level you figure out homework load by multiplying the grade level with 10 minutes. So by 4th grade, students should at the very least be doing 40 minutes of homework a night. And yet, my students don't. They do most of their work in class, even staying in for recess so that I may help them, and I never willingly send home a piece of homework that I know they will struggle for hours with.

Homework should be practice, a showing of skills. It should not be a two hour time consumer where both mom, dad and the encyclopedia gets involved. I explain this to my students and the sense of relief is visible in them. They know that I will challenge them in class but at home they may pursue life instead. So if you work hard at school then the reward is rest, family time, and a pursuit of happiness. And it works. My students are still learning everything they should for the year, albeit in a more hands-on manner. I am shying away from worksheets and instead having conversations about learning. Our favorite tool is our dry-eraseboards that allows me a quick check in for understanding. And the students are noticing the difference. No longer dreading the afternoon because I will continue to haunt their day. No longer dreading school because it means so many extra hours of works. No longer dreading learning because they are realizing that learning is something you do at school and that it doesn't come form worksheets.

When I recently welcomed 9 new students into my room, one "old" student told me that she was looking forward to seeing how the newbies would react since I "teach a little crazy." And perhaps that is true. I am loud, obnoxiously so at times, and I have high standards. I push kids to learn, I push kids to understand, and then I back off. I let them think about it, let the learning resonate within them, and then I challenge them to dredge it out again the following day.

By no means, am I the perfect teacher. I have many years of learning to come, but I do know that I am on to something here and I stand at a fork in the road signaling a massive shift in my whole educational philosophy. I believe these students are learning, I believe I am preparing them as well as any other teacher, and most importantly I believe I am letting them be kids at the same time. My students know that if something is homework it is for the benefit of their learning and is important to do, not just another piece of paper that their teacher didn't get to in class. They know that I only assign it if it is truly valuable, and not just something for me to use for grades. They know that we will meet and discuss their learning, always knowing what is missing, what is accomplished, what the direction should be. They know that if I assign something to them it is because they have the skills needed to do it. Do yours?

Letting Go

As this new year is really getting under way, and for me even slightly starting over, I am thinking of all the things I am letting go off.  At first scary and new, now these things are becoming familiar and worth it.  So I urge myself to let go and continue to let go off

• Grades. Yes, once the cornerstone of my educational philosophy but now I am seeing them for what they are; fictional numbers scribbled on a page that does not let my students know what they excelled at or even how they may improve.
• Tests for the sake of a grade and being done with something.  Instead they now work as springboards to new learning, explorations and joint adventures.
• My voice.  Yes I am actually staying more quiet and letting the students do the talking.
• Rewards.  Imagine a room of 28 well-behaved students that yes may get a little fidgety or even a  little loud but that actually enjoy each other and the learning environment they are creating.  Not punished by rewards as the wonderful Alfie Kohn would say but rather motivated by a common desire to create the best learning environment for all of us.
• Rule poster.  Oh yes, that staple of classroom walls.  I don't even have one this year, of course, we have talked about it and, in fact, they often change based on the challenge we are doing, but nothing is etched permanently and neatly laminated for the sake of reminders.
• My markers.  Another novel idea; let the students do the writing.  No more trying to decipher my chicken scratch.
• Missing all of a recess.  Sure some students stay in to work with me but when we are done they are free to run because kids need to run, not stare at me for some sort of punishment they do not understand.
• Lectures about behavior.  They get it, they know when they are being too loud, or off task, address it and move on.
• Structure for the sake of control.  We have a basic structure such as asking to go to the restroom but if you forget, it is ok.  I forget sometimes too.
• Me being the only teacher.  I think of my room as having 29s teachers plus whom ever walks into the room.  Those kids know something, let them show it and watch them gravitate toward each other for more.

So ask yourself; what have you let go off this year and how has it changed you?  I know that I have a long way to go but this journey is one I gladly get on every day.

When Goodbye Comes too Soon

Yesterday, it was decided that my combination room would cease to exist in 3 weeks.  While we would all not be erased from the school but instead be placed into other rooms, it still felt as a virtual erasing.  4th grade has simply become too overcroweded and the shcool board agreed to get us another teacher.  I then had the hard choice to go back to 4th and keep those students or move onto 5th and keep those students.  I chose my old grade level and team and therefore had to face 13 confused 5th graders today that did not understand why I did not choose them.

You see, most of those students were my old kids from last year.  My school does not have a split class philosophy but tends to bring it out in an emergency situation.  Last year was deemed such an emergency and I therefore volunteered to take this strange experiment on bringing 8 of my old students with me.  And although I was terrified for the year to start, I was also strangely elated.  I said I wanted a challenge and I got one.  But now that challenge is being taken away and we face our goodbyes much too soon.  While we usually have a year worth of memories to look back upon, this time we are only afforded 6 weeks.  So how do you say goodbye when you have only just begun?

I have to keep teaching.  As much as I want to revert to end of year celebrations and events; I cannot.  These students will have to keep going as if nothing happened, but the truth is they already know we have changed.  As one student said today, "But Mrs. Ripp, nobody asked us" and that's exactly it; they were not asked because we think we know best.  And although classroom size does definitely make a huge difference in student academic success, sometimes we as adults need to relax a little bit and realize that although size matters; connection matters more.

Those 27 students of mine that kind of knew each other from before and then maybe not really, have become a class.  And not out of sheer luck or because they are that nice (they are that nice, by the way) but because we have worked hard on it.  We have discussed what type of community we wanted to be, we created our Animoto on our hopes and wishes for the year that now have been viewed more than 900 times.  We dreamed about the Global Read Aloud project and how we would be the home base for it.  All of these things pushed us tighter together.  We were different from the rest of the school, we knew it, and we celebrated it.

And now it is almost over.  I cried when the principal told me the decision even though I knew that the kids would get a better experience in social studies and science when their teacher only had to teach one grade level at a time.  I could have made it work, and more importantly, I would have made it work because we would have done it together.  And now I must pick up the pieces, those sad faces, and try to sell my classroom one more time to a new group of kids that will fill out our roster.  To a new group of parents that wished for smaller class sizes but not necessarily that their kids would be moved.  I must sell it to myself; once again build up the excitement, the anticipation, the urgency to teach and teach well.  To reach these students and to connect, knowing that those original 14 may be a little more wary this time connecting to others.

So what can we learn from these events?  The way of the future is bigger class sizes but fundamentally we must not change our determination to connect with our students. We must not be afraid to let each other in even if the future in uncertain.   I make the time every day to reach out to every one, and already I had somehow managed to help them create a home in our room.  I know I will cry on our last day together, I am by nature a softie, and yet I will pass them on to their new teacher with one simple message: believe in them, because they are truly the changers of the future, the movers of the world.  Do not be afraid to believe.

But We Worked so Hard On It...

Those words, uttered by a parent disagreeing with their child's grade has made my hair bristle more than once. You worked hard on it, meaning you and your child? Wait a minute, this was not meant to be a parent and child homework assignment but rather a well thought out learning experience for your 4th grader. And yet, parents decide to help. At first, I thought it was because they were helicopter parents, obviously not having severed the proverbial umbilical chord, marching their child toward a successful life always monitored by the parent like a shadow. Then I thought the parents were suckers, after all, nothing can ruin a weekend more than a child whining that they don't want to do their homework. Maybe these parents lacked self-control, discipline, dreams, a life? Maybe they just really wanted to re-do 4th grade curriculum because it was so much fun. Oh, those illusions kept me and my irritation going for two years.

This summer, on my twitter revolution I started reading more about parent involvement, grades and their effect on classrooms, all posted by the formidable force that is Alfie Kohn. And yes, I had an epiphany, an ugly one; one that I hoped not to have, and yet it was so necessary. These parents, who obviously had to do the work with their children, did it because my assignment was too hard, too all-involving, too removed from learning and not based in real-life. So all that frustration should have been directed toward another source; myself. After all, the puppet-master of the homework strings is me.  So this year I am making a change:

• I will not assign homework because I need something to add to my grades so that I can do a bigger average.
• I will not assign homework because I was long winded and didn't get to the point, leaving no work time.
• I will not assign homework just because the book tells me that I should.
• I will not assign homework because my team members assign this piece or someone else who has taught the same unit.
• I will not assign homework because it is a long vacation and who knows what sort of trouble student's need to be kept out of.
• I will not assign homework because the learning did not happen in my classroom.

Instead, homework will be limited.  It will be re-evaluated and contained within my room as much as possible.  I am changing my grading system, more on that in another blog, and no longer feel the burden of needing enough things to grade so that I can fall back on it for my report cards.  My mantra for the year is "Authentic Learning" and with that comes the responsibility of teaching students within my room, within my time, within the standards, but also within their capabilities.  Learning has to be relatable for them for it to stick.  No more dull repetitious packets, no more book report dioramas, but rather conversation, blogging, hands on experience.  Maybe then those parents will find something else to do, something that they want to spend time on, and maybe I will finally get a clue.

So why do you assign homework?  How do you not assign homework?