By Rebecca Thomas
I am not a maths person, or a maths facilitator. These thoughts are reflections on how I have seen the maths resources unpacked and received by educators using them in classrooms.
Most schools have been experimenting with ways to weave in their Ministry of Education-provided maths resources, which promised alignment with the new structured maths curriculum.
What has your journey been like? How are your students finding them?
Initially, when I flipped through the sizeable textbook before the children entered the classroom, I couldn’t help but be cynical. Quietly, I thought, Geez, I could find worksheets like this on Twinkl—or even make them up myself. Is this what all the fuss is about?
Then I sat in on the PLD that accompanied the purchase. It was a hybrid session. Half the teachers were on Zoom while the facilitator spoke to those in the room. If we were lucky, we caught a glimpse of her neck when she moved the device, but to be honest, we might as well have not been 'live'. There was no interaction, no chance to ask questions.
The sales pitch began with a speech about the origins of the resource and how well it had served students in Singapore and the United Kingdom. Mastery was key. They had proof it worked, and very soon, the final shipment of wonderful resources would be reaching New Zealand shores.
I remained unbiased and watched as the teachers tried to make sense of the textbooks and computer platform app.
I had a tutu with the app and loved the feature that could break numbers into number bonds and separate base ten equipment with the press of a button. A platform like this would save teachers hours. I remember the Smartboard days, painstakingly inserting pictures of number models to make abstract concepts more visual. This was excellent.
The downside? It was complicated to log into the hub, and for some reason, we were all assigned the name Pomegranate…
I listened as the facilitator explained that the textbook wasn’t just a point-and-fire resource—it was intentionally structured in a repetitive way to guide students from practice to mastery. This allayed some fears that it might become just busy work.
I had many questions, but the PLD wasn’t interactive.
The facilitator did her best, trying to engage us in mathematical thinking by issuing three problems to solve with handmade number cards. It was a solid way to test what students knew. Collaboration was encouraged, and mixed groups were prompted to discuss their thinking. The facilitator clearly had sound maths pedagogy—she was passionate, motivated, and believed in the product.
Despite her enthusiasm, I became increasingly skeptical.
From a beginning teacher’s perspective, I could see how the resources would be supportive.
From a parent’s perspective, travelling overseas with their child, I could see how this resource and platform might provide reassurance.
From a whole-school perspective, I could see how a shared approach would make relief teachers feel more secure, ensuring consistency in language and structure.
From a student’s perspective, I could see how they might enjoy having a textbook of their own—to fill in empty boxes and work through pages with a sense of progress and certainty.
But I still couldn’t buy into it.
After three hours, there was a disclaimer: the resources did not entirely align with the new curriculum because, when they were printed, the curriculum refresh wasn’t finished. Fair enough—it wasn’t the publisher’s fault. None of us had much insight into the new curriculum until it was upon us.
At lunchtime, I could bear the Zoom call no longer and spent the remaining three hours getting to know the resource better.
Six weeks later, what was happening in the classroom?
At another school, the principal admitted that the maths resources remained unopened in their boxes. They had spent years embedding a well-known maths pedagogy and were seeing success with their maths data and teaching methods. They weren’t willing to uninvest that momentum. They were happy to let the resources sit untouched—perhaps useful only if a child was heading overseas and needed a substitute for classroom learning.
In other schools, access to PLD was difficult, and in some cases, the promised resources still hadn’t arrived. I imagine it isn’t just the lonely North having this issue—or is it?
Back to the original school—what did the kids think? How were they engaging with the resources?
The materials had certainly highlighted gaps in students’ learning. After an initial burst of enthusiasm, it became increasingly frustrating for the teacher to realise that the language used in the books was challenging for students to grasp. It also exposed the fragility of their foundational place value understanding. Learning was slow.
At first, the children were excited to write their names in their shiny textbooks (sometimes in the wrong book). They were gradually learning the routine and format. But, in typical child fashion, they also began to work the system. Some skimmed their classmates’ books for answers to maths they didn’t understand—until their partner turned the page, stalling their progress.
Some had so many empty spaces where ‘mastery’ wasn’t achieved that they began to feel demotivated, forming the belief that they were dumb.
Others became restless.
Even when lessons were supplemented with base ten equipment, they were more interested in using it as a toy than a tool to help them attempt yet another question—one that either felt too hard or just plain boring.
So, how are your new maths resources going?
And perhaps more importantly—why does this disconnect between classroom reality and government intentions keep happening?
Governments push for standardisation and structured approaches to create measurable outcomes, but learning is deeply contextual. Policies often don’t come with the time, training, or flexibility needed for real success. They are designed from a high-level perspective, focusing on efficiency and accountability rather than the messy, complex, and deeply relational nature of teaching.
Are structured programs actually about learning—or are they about proving something has been done? Who benefits most from their implementation? And why do those at the top never seem to ask teachers what is actually needed?
Maybe the real question isn’t whether the resources work, but rather—how is our school using them? Are we engaging with them in a meaningful way, adapting them to suit our students, and evaluating their effectiveness? Or are they just another initiative sitting on the shelf?
Just some of the many questions I have and return to - what are yours?
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