For a while, a long while, I let this math blog just sit. I didn’t want to delete it. I spent too much time on it and I knew it was full of great stuff that was still being used. But I wasn’t in love with writing on it.
In my lethargy, the hackers and jerks managed to infiltrate and completely take it down. That was on October 23, 2025.
Today is December 30, 2025. I rescued all the posts and will gradually get all the good ones reposted. But I have to start over, creating the whole website from scratch.
Luckily the wayback machine (internet archive) has a nice snapshot of the images and layout. It’ll take me a while, but I’ll get it all back up. Maybe even with some improvements!
If you are looking for a specific post – something you remember from long ago or something you want to know about – leave it in the comments. I’ll hunt it down and get it posted.
I’m looking forward to having all those great math stories, thoughts and tips live again – I hope you are too.
This is the 3rd in the draft purge series where I’m throwing stuff out. I’m down to 56 drafts – down from 70! (not factorial)
I’ve taught in the classroom for over 17 years. I never hesitated to give my phone number out. In all those years, with all those kiddos, I got one drunk call. And that was an accident – he meant to call Ben and not Bon.
It was a good idea. And I’ve had good results.
So why should you do it?
To show you’re human.
If you teach math, you just might be viewed as supernatural. Or inhuman, depending on the student. Famous, important or supernatural people don’t just give out their phone numbers willy-nilly.
If you give yours, you’re showing your human side. You have to keep the authority, but you can give a little. Let them in.
To offer a ray of hope.
They will probably be nervous about calling, but they’ll text. And they’ll understand if it takes you a while to get back to them. If they have this lifeline, they won’t lose the confidence
they have gained in your presence.
I’ve heard hundreds of students say, “I was doing okay in class, but when I got home, I just couldn’t understand what I’d been doing.”
There’s a magic of the teacher standing there. It’s a safety net. And it gives many students the confidence they need to keep going.
It’s a fake net, but it works.
If they know they can text you, they maintain this safety net at home.
To show trust.
For some reason, classrooms have gotten into the “us vs. them” mentality. Teachers are the bad guys to the students. Teachers may label kids unfairly, too.
Show your students you’re not a label maker. Let them know that you have trust and faith in them. Give them your number!
Will you do it?
How do you show you’re human? How do you give hope and show trust? Will you try the phone number sharing?
Let me know in the comments and don’t forget to share this on twitter!
There are a number of ways to be an education advocate. Facilitating or encouraging change is definitely one of them.
Communicating, getting support for change, and making that change happen can be a bit of an art. Especially because we’re asking others to be part of it.
Here are some ways to make this easier.
Get their ear.
Communicating is perhaps the most important tool in advocacy. It’s more than just having a voice and speaking up.
As parents and education advocates, we must let others know what’s important to us and why – AND be ready to listen to the their concerns.
It’s a conversation.
Use “We” instead of “You.”
If we’re wanting change, we can’t just criticize. We need to offer ideas of what that change could look like.
The difference between being an advocate for change and being a complainer is this:
Complainer – “I don’t like this. YOU need to do something about it.”
Change advocate – “I have concerns about this. This is why. I think these changes may help. I think this is a way we might be able to make that happen. What do you think?”
Being an advocate comes with having ideas of what TO DO and HOW to change, rather than just criticizing what IS.
Be an advocate (and not a complainer).
It’s important to know what we want before talking to others about it. Being unhappy with what is currently happening in education is the first step.
From there, ask yourself what specifically you don’t like. What could replace this that would be more effective, appropriate, or helpful? How could that transition occur? Who’s involved and what will that change look like for them? How will they handle the transition to this change?
You don’t need to completely answer all these before starting a conversation about educational change. But keep those questions in mind. Be willing to offer ideas on them.
It can go a long way in getting others to listen.
Be patient with the process of change.
Many parents and teachers know the benefit of shifting the focus in the schools. They want to get away from memorization and performance on standardized tests. They want to move toward learning ideas and understanding concepts.
But that’s a tall order.
For a broad change like this to occur, there must be (near) unanimous support. There must be a sense that this change is not only helpful, but is needed and required.
Convincing people who are married to the “traditional” way of the teaching/learning method can take time.
Make the change easier for others.
Advocating for change isn’t just pushing for it or convincing others that it needs to happen. It is important to support those who will be a part of that change.
Help teachers and administrators understand you’ll be around to support those changes. Let them know you don’t expect them to do all the work. Then they’ll be more willing to support and make those changes happen.
Talk to everyone.
You never know where you’re going to find the ally – or someone ready to consider something new.
And start here. What do you think? How will you start the conversation?
Leave your thoughts in the comments. And share this post on twitter!
I just learned what the phrase “differentiated instruction” means. Jeanette Stein told me on #MathChat that for her, differentiated instruction is
Meeting kids where they are at to take them where they can go.
I love it!
So I read the article Jeanette shared from Teach-ology. Seems differentiated instruction is a fancy term for focusing on the individual students rather than the teacher.
I’ve been doing it for years!
The first few semesters I taught math (back in 1996), I would lecture. I mean straight up, lecture. But soon I learned that it wasn’t about me.
Over the next 16 years I watched the students. I quit spending so much time and energy on preparing lectures and much more time and energy thinking about the comments and questions I got from the students.
I learned that many of the “math rules” were merely tricks some clever person thought of as a mnemonic device. And that if these tricks are forced on certain students, they’ll likely never understand what’s really happening.
And most importantly, I’ve learned that creating a safe and inquiry based learning environment is the key to differentiated learning.
And there’s more!
In considering my classroom experiences, I’m finding many other instances and examples of differentiated instruction. So this is the first in a series on tactics to improve your own differentiated classroom. Here are the proposed topics/titles:
Eliminating the Fear – How to Engage Students without Calling on Them
Show Your Work! – What’s up with that?
Grading in a Differentiated Classroom – Why Teaching Math Is Harder than Giving Birth
“It’s Your Education!” – How to Empower Your Students
If Shakespeare Taught Math – How to Use Metaphors to Teach Math
If Picasso Taught Math – How to Use Drawings to Teach Math
How to Teach Your Students to Think Like a Mathematician
Wow – that’s rather ambitious of me, isn’t it?
I’ll shoot for these once a week and you can find a link to the series (this article) in the sidebar under “Quick References.”
If you have any requests or ideas, let me know in the comments. And don’t forget to share this series with your PLN on twitter!
I am attending the Offshore Technology Conference this week, meeting old friends and looking for great math to talk about. Yesterday, while relaxing at the Oil States booth, I explained my goal of finding math at a trade show.
Amber, a subsea and pipeline engineer (i.e. super math girl) started throwing out ideas.
She saw the ratio of bolts in a flange connection to the size. She mentioned gear ratios and the number of turns it takes to open and close valves.
And then things took a strange turn.
Amber jumped outside the box with both feet: “How many CEOs does it take to change a light bulb?” I wrote down the joke.
Feeling comfortable with getting a little math-crazy, she unleashed her creativity.
She suggested that thread size, shape and spacing on bolts was like the binding on spiral notebooks – both good places where math is used. She pondered the statistics of letter frequency in the names of different nationalities of people.
And she noticed that the distance between the signs hanging from the rafters, and the tops of the booths must have been calculated or they would be smacking into each other.
“I love thinking outside the box,” she gleefully exclaimed.
And then she told a story of creativity destroyed.
As a child, she had drawn the famous Ferdinand the Bull under his favorite tree, smelling the flowers.
And her teacher told her it sucked.
“I never did art again,” she confessed to me.
Heartbreaking – especially since I’ve heard a version of this story hundreds of times. I never thought that I would ever hear it told with drawing, though.
A few words can destroy creativity.
It’s normal and healthy to know our strengths and weaknesses. But we each have a right to discover our own weaknesses. Having someone declare our weaknesses is a violation.
Amber does very well as an engineer. But how different would her life look like now if she had continued to draw?
Maybe none. Maybe she would have drawn for years, enjoying it. Perhaps she would have eventually discovered that she was much better suited to engineering.
But maybe she would have become a Picasso.
Be careful what you say.
If a child is giving it their best shot and you meet them with criticism, you might shut down their creativity for life. And it’s easy to do this with math – there are so many ways for a kid to do things “wrong.”
But try to treat math learning like learning to create art. Regardless of how much the drawing sucks, be encouraging.
If a child is adding denominators instead of finding a common one, discuss what the answer looks like. Give them the right, and the power, to see where they went wrong.
Foster each child like they’re a budding Picasso and Pythagoras, regardless of how little talent you may see in them. Let them do things their way.
You just might be surprised at what they end up doing.
Do you have a story of creativity destroyed? Share it in the comments. And don’t forget to share Amber’s story on twitter.
As mentioned a couple of weeks ago, we are hosting the Mathematics & Multimedia Blog Carnival this month.
To make it more interesting (and slightly weird), the MathFour.com team has associated some arbitrary information (for various media) with each article.
In other words, these questions are answered for each:
Who is the ideal person (alive or dead, real or fiction) to record the reading of this post?
If this post were being made into the lyrics of a song, what should the genre of music be?
What type of costume would be worn during an interpretive dance during the performance/reading of this post?
What type of video game might be created based on this post?
Wil, the research guy, notices how technology has advanced, but education is being left behind.
While on vacation recently, I met an English professor who was using a 70s era computer programming punched card as a book mark.
During a brief exchange, he said “Forty years ago we never imagined we’d have things like this,” pointing to my iPhone.
What struck me was the manner in which he offered anecdotes of the days in which they were still in use. He didn’t imply loss or anger. He didn’t express any resentment for discontinuing the now antiquated and obsolete programming medium.
On the contrary, he jovially stated, “Now, I use them as bookmarks and my wife uses them for her grocery lists.” Talk about recycling!
Embracing change.
I began to wonder why advances in technology have been embraced so well and completely, and why we are still in the “punched card” age of education.
Many “upgrades” to effective learning are not universally applied… yet.
For a considerable number of our public schools, we still approach the teaching-learning interaction in a way that is decidedly contrary to what research has not only indicated, but has, in many cases, shown to be true.
It’s not just data transfer.
Some still believe that education means opening the knowledge portal of students (whatever age) and simply depositing information. This is unrealistic and grossly simplified. Education – learning – must be received more than it can be given.
Let them lead.
Autonomous students not only having a say in what they engage but to a large degree feel their education is self-directed. This has a huge impact on their motivation, level of focus and ultimately how much they learn.
Support with information, and don’t forget the “Way to go!”
Research has provided us with concepts such as scaffolding to help children with mastery.
Less acknowledged and utilized (perhaps due to less educator proficiency) has been emotional support and encouragement. But this is just as important in a child’s education.
You may have the best information in the world for how to do something. But if the student is disengaged, it’s just not going to happen.
Start with a conducive learning environment.
This could be a post all by itself. The jist: it’s less about giving something, and more about ensuring the student is engaged. So the educational paradigm must focus on how we can facilitate the student’s learning, whatever that looks like.
This means focusing on the student and HOW they learn right now. Instead of “he just needs to pay attention” or “she needs to work harder”.
Back to the punched cards.
We’ve been given these specifics that have been presented to us over and over in the research. They are being applied with successful and definitive results. So why are we resistant? And who are the “we” we are talking about?
Look at the inevitable and constant changes in technological advances. Now consider the stagnant, upgrade-resistant public educational system. What’s the difference?
What you can do.
Be informed. Ask questions. Request and support educational “upgrades” in your schools.
You and your children are the customers. Only you can create the demand for improvements in your child’s education.
Have a voice. Be the squeaky wheel. And support schools when they move in that direction.
They may already be doing so. If they are, let them know this is what you want.
For more on how to support your schools in embracing conducive learning environments, contact us or leave a comment.
There were several thoughtful and intense comments to the Sylvan commercial. As promised, here is a follow-up article based on the comments. A special thanks to those commenting on the video, as this is what keeps the math-revolution conversation going!
There is definitely a disconnect from a service or product and those advertising or making the sales. I’m sure a lot of tutors/teachers at Sylvan wouldn’t endorse the commercial or would go about it a different way.
Our intent wasn’t to beat up on Sylvan for trying to make a buck. We wanted to bring the commercial’s message to the attention of readers more as a way of asking:
What does it say that a (probably) well paid ad dept. thinks that this would be effective (which it is)? And what does that say about us as a society (‘math stinks, it’s something to fear, I don’t even want to try’)?
How about the fear?
What you don’t know or understand is often scary.
You may have memorized some math at some point, then brain dumped it on some test. If so, do you really understand this math you “learned”?
What’s more frightening: wondering what the monster looks like, or seeing him?
So they will never show you what your “math monster” looks like.
But what if they did? Is the math monster that bad?
What would it look like to help make math less scary for parents? Could parents model this “okay-ness” to their kids? Or better yet, would they have the confidence to help little Billy with homework?
It’s not going to happen if parents really believe they are helpless and shouldn’t even try. The kids see this and do the same thing 25 years later to their kids. (Perpetual pattern?)
It’s ok, maybe even cool to say “I’m bad at math”.
This makes the commercial palatable, or even comical, to some who may relate.
But if this commercial featured a mom running away from little Billy when he asked, “Mom, can you help me with my reading?” folks would be offended!
Let’s make math okay for parents too.
I’m not saying places like Sylvan shouldn’t exist. To the contrary, actually. They provide a wonderful service.
But if parents are running – and encouraged to run – from helping their kids, they are sending a message. Kids see this and learn, “Mom doesn’t do or like math, so it’s really not that important.”
Little Billy might end up passing, even making an A, but he’ll continue the pattern with his kids.
