Head of School & Mathematics

BA, Economics, Middlebury College
MA, Liberal Arts, St. John’s College

I first heard about classical schools from a professor at Middlebury who would hand out the St. John's College reading list (you can read it here - although St. John’s curates the list, practially all the books are in the public domain and rightly so) each semester on the first day of class. He told us that we should consider attending, and I listened. It was easily one of the best decisions of my life. I spent the next three years reading every book on the list that I could, and they changed the whole course of my life.

Now, all I want to do is to find ways to do exactly that: teach the books that will forever change our students’ lives. I’ve got no clue whether fortune or fate brought me to LCA, but I can say there is nothing in the world quite like cracking open a book with these brilliant students. It’s a wonderful thing to work here.

And although I do enjoy my role as head of school, I have to admit that I can’t help myself - I’ll always keep one foot in the classroom. After all, the whole point is to teach. Allow me to give an example:

In the Elements, Euclid tried to demonstrate that all mathematics can be derived from just ten axioms. Although modern mathematicians have since proven this is impossible, it is universally agreed that Euclid was wildly successful given the actually unlimited obstacles before him. Here’s the first step. The condensed version is this: if circles and straight lines exist, then equilateral triangles (and all the other triangles) must also exist.

Given two things, a third (hidden) thing necessarily exists. Using this same technique, Euclid goes onto to prove the existence of all kinds of other things: squares, pentagons, hexagons (but not heptagons, those don’t necessarily exist without an 11th axiom), the Pythagorean theorem, the infinity of prime numbers, the existence of irrational numbers, etc. until he polishes off the book with the stunning proof there are 5 and only 5 three-dimensional shapes with all equal sides and angles.

Well, what’s the point of all this? Euclid’s reasoning is one of the simplest and purest forms of reason itself. Given two or more things, a third emerges. Apply this technique to the natural world, and you end with physics. Applied to the mind, you get psychology. Applied to the body, you get medicine, etc. But in mathematics, this method is so clear that elementary students can fall in love with it, if you are willing to take the time to teach them.

I think that this technique has something to do with education too. Young students present themselves so simply, but with any patience you will observe the most marvelous complexities drawn out one step at a time. And that dimension of time, so lacking in mathematics, is hinge by which the craft of teaching hangs. With only fifty minutes in each class, what can you get done? It is a very exciting problem, one that I hope to forever address.