Our Future in a Math Competition
During a recent weekend, I sat in a high school auditorium watching a math competition. On the surface that does not sound remarkable. Tables with teams of students. Those students hunched over paper.. But for me it was something else entirely because my sixth-grade son was there too. Not really to compete in the traditional sense but to observe and participate as a “youngling.” He and a few of his classmates where the youngest one there. The goal was simple. Let him see how the tournament works. Let him feel the pace and pressure. Let him understand what it means to show up and try.
As a parent I was proud before the competition even started. He was surrounded by students six years older than him. Kids who have taken far more advanced math. Kids who have done this before. Just being willing to sit down at the table mattered. Watching him take it seriously mattered. Watching him ask questions afterward mattered. That part was easy pride.
What surprised me was where my attention went once things got underway. I found myself less focused on my son and more focused on the room. On the students themselves. They were extraordinary. Not just smart but curious. Not just fast but thoughtful. You could see creativity at work as they tried different approaches. You could see collaboration as teammates quietly checked assumptions. You could see resilience when a problem did not yield easily.
This was not rote learning on display. This was thinking. Real thinking. The kind that requires patience and humility and confidence all at the same time. These students were not showing off. They were working. They were stretching. They were enjoying the challenge even when it was hard.
We spend a lot of time talking about the future of our country in dark tones. We talk about what is broken. About what we fear. About what we might lose. Those conversations are not without merit. We do have real challenges. But sitting in that gym I was reminded that the future is also being shaped quietly by rooms like this one. By students who care deeply about learning. By young people who are willing to struggle with complex problems rather than look for easy answers.
If the future is left to individuals like these students we are in much better shape than we often allow ourselves to believe. They are thoughtful. They are disciplined. They are creative. They are not afraid of complexity. That matters more than almost anything else.
I left proud of my son for taking his first step into that world. But I left even more encouraged by the world itself. Sometimes hope does not arrive with fanfare. Sometimes it shows up with pencils and scratch paper and a quiet determination to figure things out.
