One Roundtable can open a conversation, and no single Roundtable can represent the entire state of mathematics education. That is why the voices at the table have to keep changing. Every person who sits down brings a different relationship to this profession, and that relationship shapes what they notice. What Each Perspective Adds A classroom educator may notice something a researcher does not, and a district leader may see an implementation problem that is invisible from th

Second year teaching, and I had a PLC meeting where I was struggling to help my students understand a concept I couldn’t quite crack open myself. I asked my math coach the question out loud, in front of everyone: how do I get my students to actually understand this? Her answer was, “Well, I don’t know nothing about that. I don’t know nothing about that. You’re gonna have to ask somebody else.” I started crying. I mean really crying, and trying to hide it, which if you’ve ever

The State of Mathematics Education Roundtables were created to make important conversations available beyond the room where they were recorded. I have spent a long time on this initiative, figuring out why it exists, building the structure behind it, inviting people whose perspectives I believed needed to be in the room, and imagining what could happen when those perspectives finally met. The part I care about most is what happens after you watch. A Video Can Be Watched and F

A conversation changes once other people are allowed into it. At some point it stops belonging only to the people who sat around the table and starts belonging to everyone who encounters it afterward. That matters to me because the State of Mathematics Education Initiative was never meant to be a private exchange among a small group of people with access to one another. I wanted to build these Roundtables because I had become increasingly aware of how many important conversat

It is easy to want a public conversation to feel complete. You want the strongest ideas to land, the audience to understand where the discussion is going, and everyone to walk away feeling like the conversation arrived somewhere. When I think about the State of Mathematics Education Roundtables, I understand that instinct, and I also have to remind myself that it can get in the way of the kind of dialogue I actually want us to have. This conversation does not need to end neat

Earlier this year, I sat in a room with people I respected, people whose work I knew and whose expertise was undeniable. I belonged there, and on paper there was no reason for me to question that. I had years of experience across classrooms, curriculum, district leadership, higher education, consulting, and now entrepreneurship. Still, there was a moment when I could not get the words out, and I learned how much distance there can be between being invited into a room and feel

There are conversations I had ten or fifteen years ago that I still think about today. I don't remember every point that was made, but I remember how those conversations changed the way I thought about my work. Some of the ones I remember most ended with everyone still holding different opinions from one another. We didn't all reach the same conclusions, and I don't think we were supposed to. As educators, we spend much of our time searching for answers. We want to know which

The Modernizing High School Mathematics Summit stayed with me long after it was over. What I remember most is who was sitting around my table, and how each person's experience shaped what they noticed and what they asked. As the discussion unfolded, everyone returned to what they knew best. The college professors and researchers kept circling back to how we prepare future educators and leaned on years of evidence gathered across classrooms. When the curriculum writer spoke, i

In January 2026, I attended the Modernizing High School Mathematics Summit hosted by Student Achievement Partners, where more than 40 educators convened in Washington, D.C., for two days to provide insight into the high school mathematics prioritization conversation. I found myself sitting around a table with some incredibly brilliant people, including college professors, researchers, leaders, and mathematics education experts whose work I genuinely respect, and for the first

My first year grading final exams at Rutgers, I sat in a room and listened to professors laugh at students' mistakes instead of getting curious about them. I said nothing. Here's what it took for me to find my voice, and what it taught me about the responsibility that comes with subject matter expertise.

I spent a month preparing my students for a project. My fifth period class didn't do it — and I cried before lunch. What my seventh period class taught me an hour later changed how I look at every imperfect piece of student work.

Three educators didn't know I heard them doubt whether I could help. What I did next changed how I think about subject matter expertise, leadership, and what it means to use what you know without making anyone feel small.

I was 25 years old, standing at a chalkboard during a Rutgers job interview, watching a quadratic equation refuse to factor — and quietly questioning everything I knew. Here's what that moment taught me about the difference between expertise and confidence.

Three of my brightest students kept getting kicked out of my class for joking around and derailing the lesson. It took me a while to ask a different question: why did they have so much mental space to entertain themselves in the middle of my math class?

Before we go any further, let’s define something clearly… because this term gets thrown around in PDs, staff meetings, and district emails with no real explanation. So what is HQIM… really? HQIM stands for High-Quality Instructional Materials . And no, it is not just “good curriculum.” HQIM means materials that are: aligned to standards coherent across grade levels rich in conceptual understanding built for student reasoning, not compliance accessible to multilingual learner

There’s something special about math educators. I know, I know, all educators are dope. But there is something about those of us who teach math that just hits different. We’re analytical and creative. We breathe numbers and build thinkers. And whether we teach kindergarten math or AP Calculus, we are shaping how students see themselves far beyond the classroom. I’m a math educator through and through. Even though I’m not in the classroom anymore, my stats are still loud. My

When I sat down with Kyle King, host of The Contagious Culture Podcast , we talked about the truth. About mindset, leadership, and the quiet ways math culture in schools collapse when reflection is replaced by routine. Our converstion became a reminder that conversations about math education mean nothing unless they lead to transformation. It asked one question every math educator and leader should be brave enough to answer: “What if we stopped managing people and started il

There are moments when your work starts speaking louder than your words and that’s when you know it’s time to show up differently. For years, I’ve been building systems, guiding educators, and helping districts create math programs that work. But somewhere between the policy meetings and the professional development sessions, I started hearing a quiet reminder: “You were called to lead from the front. ” This new season isn’t just a business move. It’s a heart move. Why Now B