"My Kids Can't Do This" Was Really About Me

If you want to hear a crowd of educators not speak their truth, ask the question, “Do you believe that all students can learn at grade level?” It is akin to asking your students, “Do you get it?” Heads nod. The answer comes quickly. Yes. And sometimes that yes comes faster than the reflection behind it.

And let’s just say everyone answers yes. The next move is simple. Hand them any vetted math HQIM. It does not matter which one. Give them a grade level task that demands reasoning, language, and justification. I can assure you, a good number will then say, “My kids can’t do this.”

But you just said all kids can learn at high levels, right?

This entry is about my experience with that same deficit minded thought process, until it wasn’t. I will write this with my whole chest because it was me. I answered the question with deception because I did not believe. A few years into the classroom had solidified something in me. I was teaching and they were not learning, but in my mind it had nothing to do with me. I lesson planned. I cut the cards. I grouped for small group instruction. I went to the PLCs. I took work home. I did after school tutorials. I was doing all the things. The one thing I was not doing was believing in my ability to be the one consistent educator they needed in order to believe they could.

Before HQIM, one of my versions of good math instruction was modeling the procedure clearly and efficiently. Write down these steps. Follow the algorithm. Do the procedure. Thinking slowed us down. Questions slowed us down. Pacing was important. Coverage was important. Or at least that is what I told myself. Truth told, I did not like modeling with manipulatives or visuals because I did not fully understand it myself. If I could not confidently explain why it worked, then how was I going to sustain their questions? Procedural teaching protected me. It kept the lesson moving. It reduced the risk of being exposed.

Modeling did not slow us down. My discomfort slowed us down. I was pacing for completion, not for understanding. I was protecting my timeline, not their reasoning. Here is the harder truth. It was never that I did not believe in my students. I did not yet believe in myself as the kind of math teacher who could take them there.

When I saw grade level tasks that demanded deep thinking, I felt the weight of my own gaps. It was easier to say, “They can’t do this,” than to admit I was not yet equipped to teach it the way it deserved. What changed was not my students. What changed was my willingness to sit in the math long enough to understand it differently, to slow down and let thinking happen, to admit when I needed to learn more.

So now when I ask the question, “Do you believe all students can learn at grade level?” I am not listening for the quick yes. I am listening for belief in self. The day I stopped saying, “My kids can’t do this,” and started strengthening my own understanding, everything shifted.