“What math are you in?” Every Andover student has been asked this question before. These words are spoken casually, but they often imply a clear message: this student’s value is determined not by their character or broader academic strengths, but by the number attached to their math course. Say “MTH660” and suddenly you’re Einstein reincarnated. Say “MTH300” and people assume you’re struggling with long division. This campus culture, which quantifies students’ intelligence based on their math placement, is both misleading and destructive to the student body. It is often not admiration for hard work that prompts this person, but rather the idea that math placement correlates with intelligence. This presumption serves a twofold purpose: it not only creates a harmful culture by belittling lower-leveled math students and diminishes the merits of humanities courses as well, but also reduces students in higher math classes to their ability to “do math” and diminishes the merits of humanities courses as well. However, many overlook the fact that math placement reveals far less about intelligence than it does about student background and access.
Something relatively unique to math, compared to subjects like English and Science, is that it is cumulative; every level of math is necessary to prepare the student for the next. Thus, a student’s placement in the mathematics sequence reflects a variety of factors, such as prior exposure to advanced material, access to tutoring, or the curricular pace of one’s previous school, rather than innate intellectual capacity. The ability to afford private instruction, attend well-funded schools, or have parents who can provide academic support can all influence where a student begins, long before they even step foot on campus. By no means, however, does intelligence definitively equate to wealth; brilliance and insight are distributed far more evenly than opportunity has ever been; yet, typically progression through the math sequence directly correlates with affluence or accessibility. If one did not have access to even Algebra 1 before coming to Andover, they will likely be placed in MTH225. This certainly does not mean that they are unintelligent or that they are inferior to someone who places in MTH380. All it signifies is that mathematics, more than many other disciplines, exposes the inequities of prior academic opportunity. Still, the distinctions between math levels often become a proxy for intelligence, overshadowing the diverse strengths students bring to the table. Not only does this culture influence how others perceive these students, but also how these students perceive themselves. Students who genuinely enjoy math but begin in lower levels often feel discouraged from joining math-related clubs or pursuing opportunities like the Math Team because they believe they do not “belong.” Over time, this quiet discouragement can erode confidence and limit participation, pushing talented and curious students away from a subject they might otherwise love. The long-term impact is a self-perpetuating cycle: fewer passionate students continue in math, and the misconception that only those in the highest courses are truly “math people” becomes even more entrenched.
Additionally, a student in MTH225 may demonstrate exceptional insight in writing, leadership, or the arts, but the moment math placement is revealed, those strengths are too often overlooked. The ability to write your thoughts in a presentable manner, conduct research, or think critically about complex ideas is no less demanding and no less essential a skill than the ability to manipulate numerical formulas. We place such a large emphasis on math level as a measure of academic success that we forget the value of these skills. The reality is that mathematical advancement has been disproportionately elevated as the primary marker of academic excellence, despite its limited applicability and unequal accessibility. To reduce a student’s potential to the number attached to their math course is to misinterpret the purpose of education. Education is not meant to sort students by speed or rank them by perceived intellectual hierarchy, but to cultivate the ability to think deeply, question assumptions, and connect ideas across disciplines, whether using math or not.
The Andover community must strive to decenter math courses as a hallmark of intelligence. Math placement may indicate the sequence of courses a student has taken, but it does not define their capacity to think critically, to create, or to lead. Inspired to write this piece after overhearing a group of freshmen casually remark that someone in an advanced course “must be a genius,” it became clear to me how automatic and unchallenged this belief is on our campus. Phillips Academy’s 1778 constitution charges us with learning “the great end and real business of living,” and the school’s academic vision affirms that a liberal education prepares students “to lead lives characterized by learning and understanding, responsibility and freedom.” If Andover is truly committed to cultivating individuals of learning through a liberal education, then we must resist the urge to equate course numbers with intellect. Intelligence is not measured by the speed at which one progresses through mathematics, but by the curiosity, persistence, and imagination one brings to every field of study. Until we begin to recognize this, we risk reducing the vast complexity of human ability to a single number on a schedule.
