When We Admit Our Faults Or When Math Blows Up in Your Face

I admit it; math today was a mess.  I had done my preparation, I had created my lesson, I had everything ready and then in the middle of it; breakdown.  The kids were getting antsy, my explanation didn't work, and finally it dawned on me ; I was not making sense.  Mortification, terror, and just a little bit of embarresement.  You see, I hadn't taken the time to fully understand the concept being taught.  I had prepared, sure, but I hadn't figured it out on my own.  I had just follwoed the prompts of the books and copied the words thinking that I understood when in reality I didn't.  In fact, I wasn't even close.

So when students started asking questions, there I stood with a choice to make; do I admit my faults or do I pretend that I know what i am talking about.  I swallowed my pride and admitted it,"Sorry, but I have to figure this out first before I teach it to you."  The kids went quiet.  "I don't want to teach it to you because I will teach it wrong, so let's get back to it tomorrow when I have had some time."  Then the kids sighed in relief.  "Good Mrs. Ripp, because I was really confused..." and the energy immediately returned to the room.

After school today, I sought out a colleague and I asked them to walk me through it and explain it like they did to the students since the book just wasn't clicking for me.  And as he patiently explained it, I realized once again how our students must feel when something doesn't make sense.  I realized how important it is for us to figure our curriculum out before we teach it to students.  I realized how crucial it is for us to admit when we simply don't know. 

Sure my lesson tomorrow just a got a little more crowded, but in the end, it is worth it.  I didn't wing it, I didn't fake it, I presented it as a true learning moment in which the teacher didn't know, and then I figured out how I would learn it myself.  In the end, when I admitted my fault, I learned more, and that lesson is something worth passing on.

Oh No, Not Another Change - Why Stay Skeptical When Curiosity is More Fun?

Image from icanread

A new curriculum is announced for next school year... again.  Every year since I have started something new has been introduced and so I find myself in the back of the group, murmuring about how once again something new is coming, more money being spent, more time needed to learn, to understand, to adapt.  Once again I have to rewrite everything.  Once again; change.  I go home and discuss it with Brandon who stops me in my tracks with a simple question; why not get excited about it?  And I think, yes, why not, indeed?

Why not replace my skepticism with curiosity?  Why not embrace the new like I do within my own classroom; try it out and then judge it.  Why am I, already, after only 4 years of changing turning into that teacher, you know, the one that is quick to judge.  The one that jumps to conclusions, the one that wants things to stay the same because they are not broken and do not need to be fixed, thank you very much.  I change things every year, I hardly ever use the same lessons, I change so it fits my kids, my mood and my goals.  I change because if I became static I would be bored out of my mind and few things are worse than a bored teacher  So why am I already so stuck in my teaching ways that I have to be the one adding negative thoughts to a new initiative?  I don't know how that happened so soon.

So I renew my vow of positivity.  I want to embrace the new, which does not mean going into it blind, but rather than I will stay open to it.  I will explore it, adapt it and make it work for me.  I will give things a change, suspend my judge.  Stay curious and not assume it will be awful.  I am much too young to be so stuck in my ways and that is a healthy lesson for me to learn.  Let's hope I don't forget it.

Related articles

• You Don't Have to Be A Technology Whiz But You Do Need to Be Fearless (mrspripp.blogspot.com)
• Surprise; The Biggest Obstacle in The Classroom Isn't Your Students (mrspripp.blogspot.com)
• The Story of the Child that Changed Me (mrspripp.blogspot.com)
• When Students Tell You They Are Bored Can We Blame the Students As Well? (mrspripp.blogspot.com)

We Need More Courageous Conversations

I am wrong.  I made a mistake.  It didn't work.  These are all words I have had to say frequently in all of the years of my teaching career.  They are not easy to say, nor easy to swallow, and yet those words are what have made me the educator I am today; someone who reflects, someone who realizes they are human, someone who admits fault.

In education we often put ourselves on pedestals, assuming no wrong.  We have all of the answers because that is what we need to have.  We have the solutions, the right ways.  We are trained professionals after all.  Except we don't always have those answers, or the right way to do something.  Things may not always work and the students do not always get the best education.

We must learn to admit when we are wrong.  We must learn to reflect upon our mistakes and make ourselves better.  We must realize we are not perfect and that others don't expect us to be.  We must have these courageous conversations about our own teaching, our grade levels, our classroom, and our schools.  We must reflect, we must discuss, and we must learn.  If we all fall under the illusion of perfection we will never change the way we do teaching.  We will never change to be better.  Our students will never learn from s that mistakes are glorious occasions that move us forward.  Start the conversation with yourself and then spread it.  All it takes is one courageous person to set the example.

And right after I sent this out Chad Lehman reminded me that we need courageous actions.  He is so right; take your courageous conversations and turn them into action.

When You Lose Your Voice

I lost my voice.  No, not my speaking voice but the one that writes, that blogs, that sometimes even inspires others.  It wasn't something that I noticed happening, it just slipped away until I realized that I was in drastic need of something to regain it.  I didn't set out to lose it, it just merely happened as life got a little too busy and the rhetoric a little too heavy.  As criticism got to my head and my own self-importance whittled, as did my voice diminish.

I am not that important, in fact, not being important is what makes this journey so incredible.  Being able to reach out to others through this blog and listen to their ideas, their creativity, their passions.  So I knew something needed to change when I started to over-think my writing, limiting myself and my reflections based on what "people" might think.

But I cannot write for an audience, I can only write for myself.  I started this journey to reflect so that is where my focus must remain.  To put it all out there, the good and the bad, the inspired and the embarrassing, because that is what makes life's journey so interesting.  I didn't come here to inspire or to engage, only to be me.  So with this; I reclaim my voice, unfurl it and uncover it.  Hopefully this time, I will remember to stay true to myself.

A Little Too Much Pressure

Last Thursday, I went to the hospital for an out-patient procedure that would hopefully provide my husband and I answers to our battle with infertility. Why do I share this personal experience? Because it is shaping me into being a better person. You see, what was supposed to be an hour long procedure with quick return to my home that same evening turned into a four-day hospital stay with continued observation. During the routine procedure, my doctor pushed a little too hard and ended up puncturing my mensateric artery. As you can imagine, this is a serious mistake.

It was not because he was eager to finish, or inexperienced, but rather because he had to apply a little bt of pressure to go through scar tissue from a previous surgery. He thought he knew how much pressure to apply, but as it turns out, he applied too much. Think of how often this happens in education? We have experience, we have the time, and we think we know exactly how much pressure to exert on our students. We push, we dig, and all of a sudden the damage is done and it is too late. We don't know how we got so deep, how we hurt them, and now it is our job to figure out how to heal them.

My doctor did something smart; he called in an expert. Someone who knew exactly what to do and could do it thoroughly and efficiently. He also asked a lot of questions and then he gave his best. He explained to my husband what had happened, he explained it to me, and then had to explain it several more times over the coming days to me and my family as we struggled with our questions. He never got angry, or impatient, but continued to answer our questions, to help us heal, to help us redevelop our trust in him as my doctor. He put in the work so that I would not lose my faith in him as a professional, or more importantly, as a human being. And I haven't; he continues to treat me, and I continue to choose him as my doctor because he showed me that when a mistake was made, he was still there to figure it out. To make it right. To make me understand and to help me get better. That is our job as teachers as well. We make mistakes, we are human, but what distinguishes good teachers from great ones are the ones that stick around to fix their mistakes, to learn from them, and to invest even more into that relationship.

So next time you push too hard or you mess up; call in an expert, rely on others, repeat yourself, invest yourself, go above the requirements, and show them you are human, that you care. You will be better for it and you may end up strengthening someone's belief in you.


As for me, I am stil out of school, still seeing a doctor every two days, still taking a lot of pain medicine, and very, very emotional. But I am ok. We got the answers we were looking for, we have a path to follow, and we also were reminded just how incredibly precious life and the people we share ours with is. Thank you for sharg yours with me.

Sticks and Stones May Break My Bones and Rewards Will Always Hurt You - Confessions of a Former Rewards Addict

This post is, was, and will be inspired by this post written by George Couros "The Impact of Awards"

I admit it.  Gold stars, super duper stickers, sticks, names on the board; I have done it all.  And when one reward system failed, another one took over.  Never one to sit and reflect that perhaps it was the system that was faulty and not just that the students grew tired of it.  After all, that carrot at the end of the stck was essential to my teaching success.  Those stickers meant I cared.  That Awesome board where A+ work was proudly displayed gave students something to strive for.  That certificate if you got an A on your math test meant that you were smart and that other students should look up to you.  Right?  Wrong again.

Oh, I thought I was clever.  I thought I knew how to motivate students and after all, what could a little reward do that would possibly hurt the child?  Well, after reading Alfie Kohn's book "Punished by Rewards," I realize just how wrong I have been.  Those papers on the awesome board did nothing to improve unity in my room.  Instead they acted as the great divide, highlighting the students that could from those that could not.  Those stickers I doled out for anything above 90%; not a cheerful way to celebrate achievement, but rather a glaring marker showing which students did the best in the room.  Those great "you did it" award certificates stapled to their math tests, not great posters of pride but instantaneous feedback on where a students falls within the grade hierarchy.  And yes, the students knew exactly where they fell within the classroom.

So this year I am throwing it all out.  Well, most of it anyway, I do like those stickers and will use them for good rather than evil.  And I am petrified.  After all, this is how I was taught to teach.  If a student does something good they should be rewarded and nothing says "Great job! I can tell you worked so hard" better than a smiley face sticker.  Wrong again.  A smiley face sticker says; "If you work hard, you will get a smiley face sticker."  And when in life does that ever happen?  This year, I plan on talking to my students even more.  Telling them what was great, asking them what they thought was great and then peeling apart things that didn't quite get there and figure out what went wrong.  We shall learn from our supposed mistakes, those will be our rewards.

So while I am excited for this new no-reward agenda, I do shudder a little bit at the implication it has.  No longer will I be the cool teacher with the Awesome board, the one you get to have pizza with if your stick doesn't get moved, the one that doles out classroom parties as if they were clean socks.  Instead, I will be the one that shouts the praise the loudest to every kid.  The one that talks to all my students and highlights all the things they did right.  The one that creates more work for herself because talking rather than just placing a sticker takes more time, more effort, more thought.  And I can't wait.  Will you join me?