| Core Belief | Anyone can learn anything—with motivation, method, and support. |
| Pillar 1 | Identity Before Mastery — become the person first. Tiny actions are votes. Language shapes belief. |
| Pillar 2 | Shu Ha Ri — learn in stages: copy, understand, transcend. Start so small you can't fail. Trust the plateau. |
| Accelerator 1 | Match the Learner — adapt to learning style. |
| Accelerator 2 | Visualization — mental rehearsal builds pathways. |
| Accelerator 3 | Memorization as Scaffold — remember first, understand second. |
| Accelerator 4 | Positive Reinforcement — model, praise, repeat. |
| Accelerator 5 | Gamification & Accountability — make progress visible and social. |
| Partnership | Parents as Co-Coaches — design habits at home, watch your language, trust the plateau. |
Jessica Cox was born without arms.
She learned to tie her shoes with her feet. She earned a black belt in Taekwondo. And in 2008, she became the first person without arms to earn a pilot's license.
Think about that for a moment. Flying an airplane requires manipulating a control yoke, adjusting throttle, managing dozens of switches—all tasks designed, quite literally, for hands. And yet Cox figured it out. When we say "anyone can learn anything," this is what we mean. Not as inspiration. As fact.
The barrier is almost never ability. It's motivation. It's method. It's support. Get those three right, and the learning happens. If a child struggles, we don't conclude they can't. We try a different approach. We find a new angle. We keep going. But here's the catch: this only works as a partnership. Parents have to meet us halfway.
We've developed a fully integrated curriculum across Abacus Mental Math, K–12 Math, Reading, Writing, Coding, SAT/ACT Test Prep. Over 7,000 students have come through our programs. We've had the privilege of designing learning systems, training coaches, and watching thousands of students move from struggle to confidence in subjects they once feared.
What follows is the philosophy behind it all.
In 1954, Roger Bannister ran a mile in under four minutes. For decades, experts said it couldn't be done. Then Bannister broke it. Within two years, dozens of other runners broke it too. The human body didn't suddenly evolve. What changed was simpler: runners saw themselves differently. The four-minute mile went from impossible to possible—and once it was possible, it was inevitable.
Identity shifted. Performance followed.
We tend to think learning works like this: practice, get better, then believe you're good at it. Research suggests it's the opposite. Before a child masters math, they become "a math thinker." The label shifts first. Then the work feels different—not effort, but alignment.
As James Clear writes in Atomic Habits: "Every action you take is a vote for the type of person you wish to become."
Identity changes one vote at a time. Every small action—finishing a page in a workbook, practicing flashcards, showing up when you don't feel like it—is a vote for a certain kind of person. Cast enough votes, and the identity becomes real.
This is why consistency beats intensity. Ten minutes a day for a month beats three hours once.
"I'm bad at math." "I always mess up."
These feel like observations. They're actually instructions. The brain doesn't distinguish between describing yourself and programming yourself. Bruce Lee had a rule: never speak negatively about yourself, even as a joke. Your body doesn't know the difference.
We teach students to speak about themselves with patience and encouragement. And we ask parents to model the same. Children absorb the language they hear at home long before they choose their own words.
Change the story. The performance follows.
Read more: How I Learned to Learn →
Skills are built in stages. You can't skip them.
Think of the Karate Kid. Daniel didn't learn karate by studying theory. He waxed cars, sanded floors, painted fences—until his body knew the movements before his mind understood why. This is the Shu stage. Make the task so small you can't fail. Build muscle memory before understanding. The student moves to the next stage only when the basics are automatic.
In Ha, the student finally learns why wax on and wax off works. They combine skills. They experiment.
In Ri, they transcend. Daniel, badly injured, improvises the Crane Kick—something he was never taught. The foundation transfers.
Most learners hit a plateau in Ha and mistake it for failure. Progress stalls. Effort feels wasted. The temptation is to quit. But the plateau is not the peak. It's the integration phase. The brain is consolidating. Connections are forming beneath the surface. Stay with it, and the breakthrough comes.
This is what James Clear calls the Plateau of Latent Potential—results lag behind effort. The work is never wasted. It's just not visible yet.
Masters often fail as teachers because they've forgotten what Shu felt like. They teach from Ri to students in Shu, and the students drown. A fluent reader doesn't sound out words. Ask them to explain what they're doing, and they'll skip steps without realizing it. The steps have fused together.
We meet students where they are.
Read the full Shu Ha Ri framework →
Every child learns differently. Some are visual—they need to see it. Some are auditory—they need to hear it. Some are kinesthetic—they need to do it.
Most teaching defaults to visual. If a child is auditory or kinesthetic, they struggle—not because they can't learn, but because the delivery doesn't fit.
It's like speaking Spanish to a Chinese speaker and concluding they're bad at language.
We find the right channel.
Before athletes compete, many mentally rehearse. They see the steps. They feel the motions. They imagine successful completion.
This isn't daydreaming. Visualization builds neural pathways without physical repetition. The brain doesn't fully distinguish between vivid imagination and actual experience.
We teach students to see themselves doing the skill correctly—before and during practice.
Here's a counterintuitive truth: we don't understand and then remember. We remember and then understand.
Strategic memorization creates structure. Flashcards. Drilling facts that don't yet make sense. Over time, patterns emerge. Connections form. The scaffold becomes insight.
This isn't mindless cramming. It's deliberate: identify what won't stick, isolate it, repeat it until it does. Understanding follows.
When a student makes a mistake, we don't berate. We show the correct way. We ask them to try again. When they get it right, we praise.
This isn't being soft. It's being effective. Punishment creates avoidance. Reinforcement creates repetition. Animal trainers have known this for decades. It works on humans too.
Points. Progress tracking. Visible milestones. Leaderboards where appropriate.
Motivation thrives when it's visible and social. Students see where they stand. They see others progressing. They want to keep up.
When progress is obvious—on a chart, in an app, on a wall—the right behavior becomes easier to repeat. The environment does the reminding.
Learning doesn't have to feel like medicine. It can feel like a game worth winning.
Genie Academy teaches the child. But we also equip the parent.
This has to be a partnership. A child who hears one message at Genie Academy and a different message at home will stall. Consistency compounds. Mixed signals cancel out.
Don't rely on motivation. Design the environment.
Make it obvious. Same time, same place. Materials out, not buried in a backpack.
Make it easy. Start with two minutes. One page in a workbook. If it feels too small, it's probably right.
Make it attractive. Pair practice with something the child enjoys—a snack after, a game they earn time for.
Make it satisfying. Celebrate completion, not just results. A checkmark. A high five.
The goal is a routine so embedded it runs on autopilot. When the habit is strong, motivation becomes optional.
Children absorb what they hear. The phrases you use become their inner voice.
"You're not a math person" becomes I'm not a math person.
"Why can't you get this?" becomes Something is wrong with me.
Replace limiting language with growth language:
"You're still learning this."
"This is hard, and you're figuring it out."
"Mistakes mean you're pushing yourself."
And model it yourself. Let them hear you say "I don't know this yet" instead of "I'm terrible at this."
They're always listening.
Your child will hit points where progress seems to stop. This is normal. This is where most parents panic—and most kids quit.
Don't let them.
The plateau is not failure. It's consolidation. The work is building something beneath the surface. Stay consistent. Keep showing up.
The breakthrough will come.
That's the philosophy.
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Through the individual evaluation, the evaluator will learn quite a bit about a child's individual strengths and needs. The evaluator will then create an in-depth recommendation outline of what each and every child evaluated needs to ensure that they will succeed. This outline will provide recommendations for strategies that will enhance the child's learning experience, ultimately leading to their success in all areas.
Based on each child's reading level, fluency, comprehension, overall ability, and age, the class coordinator will make recommendations for a class that would work best for the individual child. Assignment to classes also takes into account parent and child availability and preferred days/times.
Students will be provided with an individualized program based on their needs and learning style (both in the classroom and at home). This program can include a focus on the following areas:
Throughout all of the instructions, students will be:
Copyright © 2025. Prosperity Associates Inc. All rights reserved. *The success stories on our website show real Genie Academy students who have achieved various academic results. Your child's individual results and duration to achieve them will vary. Results are not guaranteed and should not be viewed as typical.