Pribnow dressed up as a Husker fan for Halloween.

When I entered UNL, all I wanted to do was find a degree program that would allow me the opportunity to change the world.  Sounded easy enough.

When I enrolled in a freshman honors seminar in the J school, I became acquainted with journalism professors and students who were familiar with society’s current events. And, even though I didn’t see myself working in a newsroom, that connected with my desire to not only know about the world’s problems but to do something about them.

After a roommate and I came across a TV news program highlighting Teach for America one lazy January night in the dorms, I bee-lined to my computer and ate up every bit of information the organization’s Web site had to offer. I can still vividly remember lying in my loft bed that night, my face a mere 12-14 inches from the ceiling, knowing that I had discovered my next step after my May 2008 graduation.

Quick change

Fast forward two years, and I am now a completely different person. The same idealism is still stubbornly intact, but I am absolutely changed. And I can see how my years in the J school helped prepare me to be the leader of a classroom in Kansas City.

My life has changed as I have jumped head first into the battle against the achievement gap. I’ve gone from doing homework to giving homework, from carefree to carefully considering how to best equip my students with the mindsets and skills they need to become smart and well-respected members of society.

What I learned at the J school about researching and reporting meant that, when I heard about Teach For America and when the plight of students simply born in the wrong zip code struck a chord in me, I was driven to dig into the information. Once accepted into the program, I read anything and everything about the achievement gap and how to be a good teacher.

I was changing.

Applying lessons from journalism

Another lesson learned at UNL and applied constantly during my first two years of teaching has been the ability to learn as I go.

When I decided to major in journalism, I had zero previous experience. While I certainly enjoyed writing, I had not written a single journalistic article in my life.

Many of my peers, on the other hand, had illustrious resumes that listed reporting, writing and editing positions on their high schools newspapers. I did my best to watch, listen and learn from them as I tried to absorb absolutely everything and then act like I knew what I was doing.

When I stepped into a fifth grade Kansas City classroom in August of 2008, without the luxury of formal education courses or student teaching under my belt, it felt like I was, once again, jumping into the deep end, knowing only how to tread water.

Every hour of every day was a learning experience. Teach For America staff members often talk about the steep learning curve, but until I was wet in the water, I had no idea what this actually meant.

Pribnow's class celebrates International Talk Like a Pirate Day

Learning to swim in the deep end

I spent eight hours each day in a room filled with students who would later become some of my biggest fans but at the time were much more interested in talking when they were supposed to be listening and showing attitude when they were supposed to be respectful.

Remembering the words of a high school teacher/mentor, I lived by this mantra:   Always act like you know exactly what you are doing — even if you don’t.

So like a Nebraskan watches Husker football, religiously and critically, I watched my new teaching peers and desperately grasped anything I could from them that might help to keep me from drowning and actually learn to swim.

There was no book I could read that would give me a black-and-white formula for becoming a super teacher of any sort. The only formula I could muster was this:  Be relentless in pursuit of excellence.

Sometimes it seemed like every week I was trying something new. I wouldn’t let myself settle for mediocre, and my small but personally significant steps forward were the new bits of motivation and fulfillment I needed to keep my head above water.

I learned from my colleagues and from my students, too.

For example, do you know what Happy Crack is? It is a mischievous substance comprised of Kool Aid powder and sugar. Mix it together, wrap it up in a Kleenex or ziplock bag and you apparently have a marketable product. I learned all about Happy Crack.

Did you know that it’s possible for a fifth grade student to sneak a rabbit to school in her backpack? I learned all about this kind of sneakiness.

Did you know that students who at one point find you aggravating might, eventually, sit in your classroom for hours after the school day has officially ended? Just talking? I learned all about how emotions can change in a few short months.

Did you know that making a certain student cry can be considered a huge accomplishment? When the student is one who claims to always have teachers who hate him, and when those tears help him realize for the first time that somebody cares, it is indeed possible for that student’s teacher to feel as if a barrier has been broken. I learned all about breaking barriers.

And as I learned, I changed.

More lessons from journalism

As a journalism student at UNL, I had discovered what it meant to be persistent. I had to be persistent with sources. I had to be persistent with words as I edited and modified my stories.

Now, as a green teacher, persistence and relentlessness have become my new best friends.

Amanda Ripley wrote an article called “What Makes a Great Teacher?” which was published in The Atlantic’s January/February 2010 issue. Ripley interviewed 1993 TFA corps member Steven Farr, author of the new TFA-published book titled “Teaching as Leadership:  The Highly Effective Teacher’s Guide to Closing the Achievement Gap.”

And when she asked Farr about what patterns he sees as he studies highly effective TFA teachers, Farr said that whenever he calls corps members who have proven to be successful to see if he can come observe them, they all give a similar reply.

“You’re welcome to come, but I have to warn you — I am in the middle of just blowing up my classroom structure and changing my reading workshop because I think it’s not working as well as it could.”

“When you hear that over and over,” Farr said, “you start to form a hypothesis.”

Ripley goes on to say that Farr concluded that great teachers “constantly reevaluate what they are doing.”

That’s a perfect illustration of what it means to be persistent and relentless as I work to daily inch closer toward excellence in the classroom.

Applying patience and relentlessness

One of my fifth grade students from last year, who certainly kept me on my toes and even now continues to be a huge part of my life, single-handedly gave me a lesson in persistence that not even the journalism college provided.

Throughout last school year, it seemed that no matter what I tried, this student continually made poor choices that led to suspension after suspension. I tried so many different things with him that even he probably got confused.

After one occasion when he had made me angrier than I have perhaps ever been, my latest method of experimentation with him came pouring out of my mouth before I could even think.

I told him that I was so angry with him that I was not going to look at him, smile at him, talk to him, or even think about him until he figured out how to fix things and at least begin to repair what trust remained in our already battle-tested relationship.

Of course, I said this knowing that he was fully aware of how much I loved him and wanted only the best for him.

Just as I’d hoped, when I ignored him completely in the following days, he was bothered to the point of begging for forgiveness, telling me that I was like a second mother to him and promising to do whatever it took to gain my respect back. For him, it was groundbreaking.

And although this episode did not change him completely, it chipped away at him a little bit. Even now, as a sixth grader, he is sent back to my classroom when he acts up during school. And even now, when he is no longer my student, I continue to learn about persistence as I do everything I can to continue changing him for the better.

But he is not the only one changing.

Working with the team

Another lesson I learned as a journalism student was how to work as a part of a team. Whether working together with my peers on a NewsNetNebraska package or working at the Daily Nebraskan to get out the next day’s paper, I found that without a teamwork mindset, a journalist is in big trouble.

This year, as I have switched from fifth to second grade, I have been blessed to learn just how important teamwork is in teaching, too.

When I started teaching, I had a hero mindset. If I just continued in my relentless pursuit, I would eventually become unstoppable. I would be the one to change the world. Or so I thought.

This year, however, I have surprised myself by learning how enjoyable and advantageous it is to have others helping me along the way.

Because my school is a K-12 school, we have seniors who choose to complete required community service hours by assisting in elementary and middle school classrooms. I am lucky enough to have the help of two seniors for an hour each day.

One of those seniors has been with me since way back in September and, unbeknownst to him, has helped me to understand how crucial adult-centered teamwork is in the classroom and just how much it can benefit my kids.

After welcoming him into the lives of my students, I have become more willing to welcome other older students into my room when they have a free period or simply want to come help out during their recess time.

I have received tremendous help from so many older students, coaches and specialized teachers at my school. And I certainly have nixed the hero mindset, trading it in for the teamwork mindset.

These people around me in Kansas City have certainly changed me.

Staring down the achievement gap

Each day, I walk into the classroom and stare the achievement gap in the face, hoping to make it shake in its boots, if even a little bit.

And as I do, it becomes clearer every day that, although I set out to change the world, it ended up changing me.

I am confident that it will continue changing me, as I intend to continue teaching for a while. I never call it quits on a story until I feel it is at its best. And I simply cannot call it quits on teaching when I still have much to learn.

Maybe one day I will be able to say that I changed the world. But for now, affecting just one student’s world would be enough.

So am I settling? No.  I’m just changing.