My Math Mindset

Twelve years ago, during my first year in the classroom, I sat at my desk convinced I wasn’t cut out to be a math teacher.

My lesson had flopped. Fractions had unraveled in my hands. The room still held the stale energy of confusion, and I carried it like a weight. I was overwhelmed by personal distractions, by the steep learning curve of teaching, and by the quiet fear that maybe I wasn’t “a math person” after all. Then my mentor walked in.

She was the kind of educator who changes the trajectory of your life. Brilliant. Direct. Unapologetically committed to kids. She told me the lesson had missed the mark, and she was right. It had been scattered and unclear. My students deserved better. But what happened next is what reshaped my entire mindset. And my entire career.

In my attempt to defend myself, I minimized my own mathematical background. I explained that I hadn’t even studied math in college. I mentioned that I had only taken AP Calculus in high school. I downplayed my score. I compared myself to peers who had scored higher. And that’s when she stopped me.

She reminded me that in our school in the Bronx, only a handful of students were even enrolled in AP Calculus. She was the only teacher who taught it. There wasn’t even a dedicated classroom for advanced math. In that moment, something shifted.

I had grown up in a system where AP Calculus was expected. In a school only 25 minutes away from where I was teaching. In a high income district, where advanced math teachers were plentiful. Where academic rigor was normal. I had never questioned whether I’d have access to high-level coursework. It was simply available to me. But that wasn’t true for my students.

There are few and far between truly strong advanced high school math teachers. And even fewer choose to work in low-income districts. The result is a widening opportunity gap: students with resources receive high-quality math instruction that propels them toward STEM fields, while others are left without access to the very courses that build mathematical identity and confidence.

The pipeline to becoming a mathematician doesn’t start in college. It starts in classrooms where students are invited into deep mathematical thinking. It starts with teachers who know how to teach fractions conceptually. With teachers who use visuals. With teachers who believe that every child is capable of advanced math.

That day, my mentor wasn’t just critiquing my lesson. She was holding up a mirror. I realized that I had internalized a dangerous narrative. The idea that because I wasn’t the “best” in my AP class, I somehow didn’t belong in math. I had compared myself to the highest performers in a privileged environment and concluded I wasn’t enough. Meanwhile, my students were fighting simply for access. I began to understand that being “a math person” isn’t about perfection. It’s about opportunity and exposure.

Twelve years later, I am a proud math teacher. Not because I have all the answers, but because I understand the responsibility. I understand that my own access to strong math education was a privilege. My math mindset today is rooted in gratitude and urgency.

Gratitude for the teachers who challenged me.

Urgency because too many students are still waiting for advanced math teachers to choose them.

Every time I design a lesson, whether it’s for one of my private math students, or through my work with Traveling Miss T., I think about that first year. I think about the embarrassed and overwhelmed version of myself who believed she wasn’t a math person. And I remember what my mentor helped me see: At least I was given the opportunity to be good at math.

Now, it’s my job to make sure my students are given that same opportunity... And more!

About Natalie Teboul

Traveling Miss T. creates coordinate plane worksheets that make learning creative, meaningful, and interdisciplinary. Math Maps © help educators bring curiosity, adventure, and exploration into every classroom.