Our relationship with math learning is severely damaged in this country. In 2022, only 26 percent of all eighth grade students scored proficient or above in mathematics. Even more concerning is that only 9 percent of Black eighth-graders are at a proficient level, or above.

As a Black male educator in northeast Denver, I have seen firsthand the results of poor engagement and learning in math classrooms. The lack of access to high-quality math instruction can impact students’ confidence and ability to learn math concepts and perpetuate deficit mindset thinking, especially within the Black community.

One day, out of curiosity, I asked my Facebook community about their math learning experiences, and many expressed negative feelings. Some folks commented:

These experiences and perceptions are not isolated incidents; in fact, the majority of these responses are from Black people in my community, some of which I grew up with — and now, I teach their children.

This is unacceptable, to say the least, and it is the fault of schools and educators that math learning in the Black community is not prioritized. Providing our children, especially our most marginalized, with a strong math education can be empowering, and I’ve made it my mission to change students' mindsets from a deficit to an asset that can change their future.

It Starts in the Community

I grew up in northeast Denver — a place rich in Black history and culture where the Denver Public Schools (DPS) Board of Education enacted the Black Excellence Resolution. Although there is progress, it still has not made good on its promise when it comes to student learning.

Unfortunately, DPS follows a nationwide trend where Black students are overrepresented in discipline and underrepresented in academic achievement. I connect deeply with these inequities because I navigated that system as a child; now, as a teacher and a father, I can see the impact of these trends and how they impact Black students and their families.

Educators and the educational system often harbor implicit biases that result in lower expectations for Black students, particularly in mathematics. These biases manifest in various ways, such as underestimating Black students’ math abilities and providing less encouragement. This lack of belief in Black students’ potential can lead to a self-fulfilling prophecy, where students internalize these low expectations and perform accordingly.

Whiteness in the disciplinary system also impacts Black students’ math learning by perpetuating racial biases and inequities. This results in lost instructional time and diminished opportunities for academic engagement in subjects like math where consistent practice is crucial.

There are ways to mitigate these challenges; notably, when parents positively engage with their children’s math education, it can buffer against the adverse effects of trauma, fostering resilience and academic success. Unfortunately, generational trauma among parents and families complicates this involvement.

Often, when I give my eighth grade students homework assignments, I receive many phone calls asking for help, or the work never gets done because the parents can’t help and don’t have the tools or resources to support them. Chalking it up to just not being math people, that trauma pushes parents to perpetuate negative, deficit-based thinking in themselves and their children.

Rather than letting students drown in a system that seeks to uphold harmful biases and stereotypes that have impacted their learning, I’ve sought to engage students in an asset-based approach that supports students and their families.

Establishing a Growth Mindset

Systems that fail to foster joy and belonging in our classrooms perpetuate biases that view students through stereotypical and negative lenses. Therefore, establishing positive norms and community agreements is essential to upholding a high standard of excellence for both our students and ourselves, and this lays the foundation for my students to thrive.

I once worked with a Black girl in my classroom who was fearless and assertive, yet vulnerable. She didn’t believe in her math ability, and it showed in her pursuit of perfectionism, which sometimes would prevent her from even engaging in the work. Despite facing significant personal challenges that often kept her out of school, she remained resilient. Recognizing her potential as a math scholar, I encouraged her to ask questions, embrace mistakes and find motivation in difficult tasks. She started to see mistakes not as failures but as opportunities to learn and grow. This shift in mindset allowed her to tackle challenging problems with confidence and curiosity.

This summer, after she had just finished her freshman year in high school, I saw her at our annual Juneteenth celebration. She eagerly approached me, excited to share her successes and express her gratitude for helping her believe. Now, she is thriving and on a promising career pathway in behavioral health. Her journey is a testament to the power of support, resilience and belief in one’s potential.

Her classmate, on the other hand, was a different story. He was a charismatic and vociferous Black boy who had a strained relationship with math, and schooling in general. Learning grade-level content was a challenge for him. He struggled with work and lashed out when faced with difficult problems.

Although he qualified for additional support and accommodation services while in school, I questioned whether he was receiving the support he needed and deserved. I recognized these behaviors as cries for help rather than mere disruptions, and over time, I became his trusted adult, mentor and teacher.

During class, I scheduled time to sit with him one-on-one; this was when his math thinking was at its best, and he could engage in the most difficult tasks like transformations in the coordinate plane, operations with scientific notation and understanding linear relationships.

I also regularly checked in with him throughout the school day: in the hallway, during lunch, during practice, whenever I could. I worked hard to help him overcome years of ingrained habits, and we made a lot of progress. Ultimately, he moved to another school in the middle of the year, but I’m at least hopeful he felt supported enough to take what he learned to his next school community.

Experiences like these helped me understand that a difficult part of teaching is accepting that not every problem can be solved; nonetheless, the work is still essential, my presence is still valuable and giving students an opportunity to feel agentic about their math learning is key to overcoming preconceived notions about what we think students are capable of.

Math Literacy as a Tool for Liberation

As we look to the future, let us remember that math is more than teaching numbers — it's about nurturing a growth mindset, encouraging collaboration and inspiring innovation. It's about equipping students with the skills to navigate and shape an ever-changing world. In the heart of northeast Denver, amidst challenges and triumphs, I stand committed to this cause.

Teaching is my passion, and I’ve dedicated myself to creating a classroom environment that emphasizes relationships, joy and a sense of belonging as integral components of high-quality math learning. I prioritize the person behind the student. I show up the same way every single day. I want my students to know it’s okay to be themselves, to know they are loved and not to apologize for being who they are.

I believe it is important to illuminate the realities our students face in and out of the classroom — realities that include poverty, chronic absenteeism, and violence. To combat these realities, we must find ways to make math a tool for liberation by removing every possible barrier to success.

There is no better time to inspire my fellow educators to join forces with our communities and rebuild systems to uplift our children. As Bob Moses, founder of the Algebra Project, once stated, “Math literacy will be a liberation tool for people trying to get out of poverty and the best hope for people trying not to get left behind.”

This essay is a call to action, a reflection of my journey and an invitation to all who believe in the transformative power of math education. Let us forge a path where mathematical thinking is celebrated, where every student can say with conviction, "I can, and I will."