In Amy Tewell’s world, teaching math isn’t about formulas on a board or abstract theories pulled from a textbook. It’s about communication. “A lot of math brain people just speak math language,” she says. “I work hard to translate it, so students see they can actually do this.”

Now in her third year of teaching—and her first in Jasper County—Tewell brings a journey marked by detours, resilience, and a relentless pull back to the classroom. Growing up in nearby Robinson, she once imagined a career in accounting. That dream faded when homesickness and other challenges cut short her first college attempt. What followed was a patchwork of degrees and certifications in healthcare, coding, and activities directing. She even worked at a dental office, where, by her own admission, she was miserable. “I cried almost every morning going to work,” she recalls.

It was her parents who gave her the encouragement she needed: go back to school, pursue teaching, follow your heart. That advice set her back on course. She worked part-time, enrolled in classes, and slowly built her way through calculus and higher-level math, finally finishing the degree she had long put on hold. By then, she knew—teaching math wasn’t just what she wanted to do, it was what she was meant to do.

Her students today encounter a teacher who makes math approachable, but also refuses to let them off the hook. In her classroom, mistakes aren’t the end of the story; they’re the beginning. Students can retake tests, redo assignments, and learn from their missteps. “Real life isn’t about failing once and being done,” she explains. “It’s about getting feedback, trying again, and growing. That’s what I want my students to practice here.”

She’s also quick to remind them that math isn’t confined to the classroom. Farmers calculate yields and measurements daily. Linemen must pass math tests to secure their jobs. Even trade workers rely on numbers to ensure precision. “It’s being able to speak the language and understand the language,” Tewell says. “Math opens doors—sometimes doors students don’t even know exist.”

Support from her colleagues has made her transition into Jasper County seamless. She credits Principal Beth Probst and math department head Tim Bauer with providing mentorship and encouragement that feels like a true community. “I’ve felt more support here than I’ve ever felt in my teaching career,” she says. “It finally feels like I’ve found where I belong.”

For someone who once doubted the path to teaching, Tewell’s story has become one of perseverance and passion. She laughs at the irony—she doesn’t enjoy public speaking, yet she thrives in front of a classroom. The difference, she says, is connection. “I love being able to really communicate with my students, to help them see this isn’t impossible. Math is hard, but if you put in the work, it can change your life.”

That belief keeps her grounded even as she dreams about the future—maybe a family of her own one day, perhaps even a podcast to make math more accessible. For now, she has hundreds of blue-and-orange “kids” in Jasper County who depend on her to show them that numbers aren’t a barrier but a bridge.

And in Amy Tewell’s classroom, every student is invited to cross it.