When Carol Webb-Gargagliano — also known as “Ms. Webb-G” or “Queen of the Numbers” — teaches calculus in a Charlotte Latin School classroom, sometimes she’ll pause expectantly after she’s laid out a mathematical concept, making sure that her Upper School students understand it. When she sees that they do, her face lights up with a broad smile. After 38 years of teaching, she still treasures that moment when a new idea clicks with her students. Even though that connection happens over and over in a 45-minute class, every single time it illuminates the room.

How did you become a math teacher?

When I got to college, I did not do well in my first math class — because I’d never been asked to work before. I had to take it over in summer school. The department chair taught it and I did very well with him. At the end, he brought me into his office and said “Why didn’t you do well in this class last semester?” I said, “Well, it was Monday, Wednesday, and Friday at 4, and I didn’t make it to Friday much.”

He said, “I think you have some talent at math, and I’d like you to consider taking the next level,” which was Calculus 1. I said, “Oh, I just need the one math credit — I’m good.”

He said, “I’m teaching it, so I’ll make you a deal. If it doesn’t go well, I’ll let you withdraw without it going on your transcript.” And I said yes, mostly because I was taught to be polite to adults. And I loved it. And after that, he said, “Why don’t you sign up for Calculus 2? We’ll do the same deal.” And then I had to declare my major, and I hated writing papers, so I did math. 

At the end of my junior year, my advisor asked what I was going to do with my math degree. I hadn’t thought about it, but he suggested that I think about teaching. I said, “I don’t want to be a teacher. I didn’t really enjoy high school. I graduated a year early — I was just over it.” He said, “Well, if you don’t have any better ideas, you ought to at least observe some classes at a local high school.” I did and then I was intrigued, so I got my certification to teach. My first few years of teaching were fine, and then I came to Charlotte Latin and it changed everything.

How so?

I came thinking I was a pretty good teacher, but I entered a department of rock stars, so it upped my game. The way the school supported teachers and students, the way parents were partners with me, it was great. The kids were being asked to learn, to do hard stuff, and they did it. Things here have changed a lot in the past 30 years, but what hasn’t changed is that if you want to teach math, there’s no better place to do it.

It’s interesting that calculus is where you blossomed mathematically — for some students, that’s where they hit the wall.

To me, it’s where the whole puzzle comes together. Calculus is the poetry of mathematics. It unfolds beautifully, which is probably why I love teaching it so much.

Tell me about discrete math.

Algebra and pre-calculus and calculus basically study continuous ideas. Discrete math covers other topics, like voting theory and graph theory and what is a fair election and how do we figure out the best route when the UPS guy has to go 48 places. There are all these aspects of math that our kids have never even considered, but it’s hard to get to some of them in high school because North Carolina has certain requirements. There wasn’t enough demand for it this year, but we have a course called Math of Social Choice. For me, part of the joy of majoring in math was finding out that there was this whole other world of mathematics.

What qualities are you looking for when you’re hiring a new teacher?

I’m looking for somebody who knows mathematics and can explain it in a clear and correct way. Believe it or not, I get lots of applications from people who have never studied any math. And I need somebody who knows how to connect to teenagers. I don’t mean that they can be their buddy, but that they make them feel like they can do this.

When I interviewed one of my new teachers, they asked a great question: “If you came into my room, what would you want to see?” I said, “I want to see a teacher who has the kids engaged, and how you do that is up to you.” Some teachers do it by putting kids at the board; some teachers do it by putting them in groups and walking around. What I don’t want to see is just you up there talking.

What was the first concert you ever went to?

The Bay City Rollers. When I was 12, my parents moved our family to North Carolina, because IBM had opened at University Research Park. I was 12 and I had just been named captain of the cheerleading squad, so I was devastated. To sell us on this place we were moving to, they took us to Carowinds, which used to have outdoor concerts, and the Bay City Rollers were playing. It was quite an event: there were girls screaming and fainting.

Tell me about an adventure you had.

Oh, gosh. My trip to Alaska felt adventuresome. But I’m not really a risk-taker. I like things to be comfortable and well-planned-out.

Is there a concept in your classes that reliably brings you joy to teach?

Yes! It’s the chain rule, a rule for calculus that lets you take derivatives of very complicated functions in an easy way. In my early days, I would play Aretha Franklin’s “Chain of Fools.” When students didn’t know that song anymore, I switched to the rapper 2 Chainz, but now even that is old, so I just come up with silly jokes about chains.

What do you do with a student who can’t get their head around something?

A calculus class has a lot of pictures and graphics and repetition, and I try to do concrete examples to make the abstract make sense. But it takes time. I can relate, because when I took a topology class, I had to spend hours writing the same stuff over and over: it just took my brain longer to understand some of those ideas. We’re all given certain strengths — we're not going to be great at everything, but we can improve on anything.