By Tim Chartier, Davidson College

The pandemic offered many challenges with faculty working and teaching from home. “You’re on mute” seemed to be one of the most common comments in many meetings and classes. We struggled to understand each other with computer glitches. Families integrated home and work life. Many parents also became tutors in fields in which they were familiar and much less versed.

During our remote world, I became my daughter Mikayla’s math tutor. To many, it seemed natural and easy. I have a doctorate in applied math and teach college-level topics. As such, I must understand the ninth grade math curriculum with ease. In fact, that was not the case. I hadn’t looked at some topics since I learned the topics in secondary school. Other modules were quite different from what I teach. For example, I teach the use and computation of least-square lines but in the context of our work together, I had to learn to compute them on a TI-84 calculator. In order for us to learn the content, my daughter and I watched her teacher’s videos as well as many other videos to aid our work.

While my daughter’s teacher offered many online resources, we learned that Mikayla reached a deeper level of understanding when learning next to me. At times, I simply tutored her in ideas she learned online from her teacher. Other times, I became the teacher on topics that were difficult for her to learn remotely. I often tweeted my reflections on tutoring her. Here is an early sharing on the experience:

At the end of each year, I reflect on my teaching and the students who will soon be former students in a class we shared. This year, my reflection included teaching my daughter. She was a student and my child. I thought carefully about what lessons I could learn about my broader teaching from working with my child.

Seeing the mathematician within – Throughout school, my daughter received good grades in math and performed very well on the end of year tests. During the winter of the 2020-21 academic school year while learning remotely, she commented on struggling with math and being “bad” at the subject. Concerned, I simply asked, “How about if this week, I work beside you and we see what we can learn together?” We did and that week’s experiment became a weekly commitment. Mikayla’s grades improved, although not always. In one instance, we didn’t submit the answers in the desired syntax and failed the assignment. A bit stunned, I checked her computed answers (using other techniques beyond the scope of her class) to verify Mikayla’s work. She’d done everything correctly. I was frustrated with the system. The answers were simply not in an expected format. Further, I was concerned for Mikayla and the understandable feeling that performing well was hopeless, even with a math professor as a Dad. I expressed my frustration and Mikayla, rather unscathed, smiled and said, “Dad, it’s Ok. I know what I’m doing. You taught me well.” Her comment entirely changed my attitude. We smiled and did our customary fist bump of success for that week’s mathematical learning. A week or so later, I heard Mikayla comment to a friend, “I’m good at math. I’m just very poor at putting answers into computer systems.” I felt my inner self fist bump as Mikayla’s and my efforts felt successful. She saw her mathematical self. What about my other students? Helping students see the mathematician in themselves is important to me, is something I talk about in class and is a focus around which I craft assignments. When students get discouraged or feel hopeless during the term, how can I better empower them in such times? How can I help students see their mathematical selves during and after challenging times? I pondered these questions as the 2020-21 academic year closed, and I ponder them now.

Affirming strengths and customizing approaches for challenging content – Mikayla was very fast at certain elements of her learning. She could do some algebra steps much faster than I could. “Ok, hold on…I literally can’t do it that fast,” became my common statement on such sections. Mikayla was quick and accurate. As such, she was understandably proud of her own mathematical strength. Other sections were more challenging. For this material, we varied our work to move toward understanding and mastery. If the teacher’s video didn’t work, I’d try teaching the material. If my approach didn’t help, we’d go to the Internet. And, sometimes, we would cycle through these options again. In my own classes, I work to offer content in various ways. With Mikayla, I emphasized how different resources can aid in understanding different material. Do I do this for my other students? Do my students fully see how open I am to finding alternate ways to understand material? Mikayla flatly said, “Dad, I have no idea what that means.” We’d usually laugh and then try again. There is important insight in knowing when you don’t know!

As I reflected on my teaching of Mikayla versus my own classes, various questions like those posed in this article arose. For many, I still don’t have answers. For some, I will integrate feedback into my student evaluations, create class polling, ask students questions, and adjust my classroom teaching in order to offer these types of growth opportunities for my students. Clearly, there may be an investment of time and energy offered to my child that isn’t realistic within a class context. And yet, I do believe that my time as a tutor and teacher to my daughter can improve my classroom teaching. My goal is for my students to turn to me and also exclaim, “I know what I’m doing,” even if it took struggle and a push through challenging times. Or, perhaps a student at the end of the class, a lecture, or a session in office hours will share in a fist bump for their success. For now, I ask my questions and allow them and my pursuit for answers to improve my classroom teaching.

Tim Chartier is a professor of mathematics and computer science at Davidson College. A highlight of his life is his family and the time they spend together.