Teaching with Heart in the Math Classroom

Before I ever taught my first math lesson, I learned something more foundational than any curriculum could offer, specifically, the power of connection. That lesson came not from a textbook, but from the experience of becoming a father. Parenthood shifted my outlook entirely, teaching me patience, empathy, and the deep joy of helping someone grow into who they are meant to be. That transformation eventually led me to leave a successful career in banking and walk into a classroom, not as a numbers guy, but as a nurturer.

At first glance, math might seem like the last place you'd expect to find heart. After all, it's a subject known for right answers and wrong answers, precision and structure. But for many students, especially those who struggle, math can feel like a locked door. My mission as an educator is to hand them the key. The goal for my students is not only to solve equations, but to believe they can.

In my middle school classroom in Maryland, success is not measured solely by test scores or benchmarks. It’s measured by moments: a student who finally asks a question after weeks of silence, another who tries again after failing a quiz, and a third who smiles while solving a problem they once feared. These are the quiet victories that point to something deeper - the development of confidence, resilience, and a growth mindset.

So often, students come to my class already carrying a narrative about themselves. “I’m bad at math,” they say. “I can’t do this.” These aren’t just words. They are wounds. My job is to help them rewrite that script. And it starts with relationships.

Before I can teach a student how to calculate slope or solve for “x”, I must teach them to trust me and to trust themselves. That is why I anchor my instruction in a growth mindset. I make it clear from day one that mistakes are expected and even welcome. When a student feels discouraged, I’ll say, “That disappointment tells me you care, and that’s where growth begins.”

Academic growth doesn’t happen in a vacuum. By utilizing the International Baccalaureate’s inquiry-based model approach to learning and student education, we can see its direct positive impact, in real-life scenarios.

Confidence comes from connection. I try to know each student as a person, not just a performer. When one of my students, who had long refused to engage with assessments tied to his Individualized Education Plan (IEP), was invited to co-create his learning goals, everything changed. He felt heard. Empowered. That shift, from being spoken about to being spoken with, sparked a commitment that no test score ever could.

Years later, some of those same students still reach out to share their successes. These moments remind me that while the growth may not always be immediate, it is real, and it is lasting.

Of course, none of this happens in isolation. I co-teach across three grade levels with five general education teachers. Each partnership brings a different rhythm, a new perspective, and a chance to learn. We co-plan, reflect, troubleshoot, and celebrate wins, together. This kind of collaboration benefits students and strengthens our practice as educators.

Staying energized is part of the equation, too. Working primarily with struggling learners can be emotionally taxing. That’s why I make a point to stay connected to the broader school community, whether it's supporting general education students or leading after-school activities. Joy is essential to sustainability in this work.

At the end of the day, I return to the values that brought me here. Every student deserves a champion. They deserve a classroom where effort matters more than perfection, where they feel seen, and where they believe they can do hard things.

Math may be built on numbers, but teaching it well requires compassion, reflection, and belief. Because in every problem a student solves, there’s also a chance to help them solve something far greater, namely the belief that they’re capable, that they matter, and that they can grow.

And that, to me, is the true equation of success.