4 Steps To Unlock Your Kid Math Potential

As a mom of 13-year-old twin boys, I often reflect on moments from their childhood. One memory stands out vividly: back in their pre-K days, a mom approached me during pickup. She began chatting about her daughter, saying, “She’s just like me—not a math kid. But your boys, they’re math kids. We’re just not math people.”

I was stunned. I wanted to disagree, but I hesitated, knowing how important it is to keep the peace at pickup time—no one wants to be the “crazy” mom. But I couldn’t stop thinking, How do you already know that about your four-year-old?

Now, imagine if we said the same about reading: a struggling child is labeled “not a reading kid,” and we stop challenging them with books or writing assignments. It’s unthinkable, right? Yet, that’s exactly how we approach As a mom of 13-year-old twin boys, I often reflect on moments from their childhood. One memory stands out vividly: back in their pre-K days, a mom approached me during pickup. She began chatting about her daughter, saying, “She’s just like me—not a math kid. But your boys, they’re math kids. We’re just not math people.”

I was stunned. I wanted to disagree, but I hesitated, knowing how important it is to keep the peace at pickup time—no one wants to be the “crazy” mom. But I couldn’t stop thinking, How do you already know that about your four-year-old?

Now, imagine if we said the same about reading: a struggling child is labeled “math, dividing children into “math kids” and “not math kids” as if it’s an innate trait.

As a math learning expert and education technologist, I’ve spent over a decade studying how children learn math. Through my work at Zearn, a nonprofit dedicated to math learning, I’ve observed millions of students tackle billions of math problems and visited classrooms across three continents. And here’s what I’ve learned: we’re asking the wrong question.

Instead of asking who can learn math, we should ask *how do we teach math? When we frame it as a matter of “who,” we perpetuate the myth that math ability is a rare, inherited gift. It’s not. Data shows that everyone can develop a math mind—and everyone needs one. To end the labeling for good, I propose four steps to build a math mind.

Step One: Believe

I wasn’t always a “math kid.” In sixth grade, I struggled after transferring to a new school. In math class, I felt isolated, and the confident group of boys excelling in the subject wouldn’t talk to me. (Not that I wanted to talk to them—they were “grody.”)

One day, my math teacher called me to his desk after a test. He said, “If you try your best, you could be just as good as the boys.” While his phrasing wasn’t ideal, his belief in me meant everything. His words gave me the courage to ask for extra help, do extra work, and eventually catch up.

That belief started a chain reaction: courage led to effort, and effort led to progress. Along the way, I realized that all kids, even the so-called “math kids,” struggle at some point. The difference is that someone believes in them, encourages them to keep going, and they do.

In most subjects, falling behind signals a need to work harder. But in math, it’s often taken as a sign of incapability, leading many to give up. That’s why the first step to building a math mind is simple but profound: believe.

Step Two: Understand

Math is not about memorizing rules or formulas—it’s about understanding. Imagine trying to pass a reading test by memorizing 200 random words. You might get a good grade, but you wouldn’t actually know how to read. That’s how math often feels for kids.

Understanding math means connecting concepts to real life. Take ratios, for example. Instead of memorizing numbers, use everyday visuals. In my home, ratios became clear through peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. One twin prefers a sandwich with one spoon of jelly to two spoons of peanut butter, while the other likes three spoons of jelly to one of peanut butter. Different ratios, different sandwiches—math that makes sense.

When students understand math visually, they rely less on rote calculation. Consider this question: Which fraction is closest to one-half—two halves, five-eighths, one-sixth, or one-fifth? Many people would start calculating common denominators, but drawing or imagining shaded rectangles makes the answer clear without heavy computation.

Yet, 73% of American fourth graders got this question wrong on a national test, with the most common wrong answer being two halves (the farthest from one-half). This shows the dangers of focusing on memorization instead of understanding.

Step Three: Make It Fun

Math practice doesn’t have to mean endless worksheets. In reading, we inspire kids with fantasy novels or graphic adventures. Math should be no different. Games are the answer—card games, board games, or real-world challenges.

When my twins were young, we played Battleship, a game that doubles as a fun introduction to the coordinate plane. At the farmer’s market, we gave them $10 each and said, “Count your change before handing over money, or you might get ripped off!” These games weren’t framed as lessons; they were simply fun, with math as a natural part of the experience.

Step Four: Give Math a Second Chance

Many of us didn’t grow up loving math. But it’s never too late to give it another shot. When we approach math with patience and a plan, we can rediscover its power and beauty—and share that love with our kids.

The kids who giggle over math aren’t different because of their genes. They succeed because someone believed in them, helped them understand, and made the process enjoyable.

Philosopher Søren Kierkegaard described two types of love: spontaneous love, which happens effortlessly, and true love, which is a deliberate choice. For many of us, math isn’t spontaneous love. But true love? That’s possible. Decide to see math differently. When you do, you’ll discover that math’s true beauty and power were waiting for you all along.

Thank you.