letters to my class

Dear Humans,

One thing parents try to teach their children before they start school is how to tie their shoes. It’s an important milestone. Because if you’re tying your own shoes, it means you’re a little more independent. And then you’re ready to go out into the world.

And when you’re independent, you’re ready to enter public places (such as school) and become part of the conversation. Because it’s in public places that we figure out how we’re going to live together. How we’re going to share our resources, how we’re going to create our rules, how we’re going to hold each other accountable. 

And we do all of that with our shoes on and tightly tied.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

I love to see all of your backpacks hanging from their cubby hooks. You bring important stuff in those backpacks: special art project markers, fidget toys, homework, a read for fun book. And the backpack itself, whether it’s camouflage or rainbows or Air Jordan or Hello Kitty, might say something about you.

And yet, the most important things you bring to school don’t fit in that backpack at all. The focus, knowledge, and insight you bring to our lessons. The love of those special people you leave behind while you’re at school. The smile and attitude that makes you you.

So don’t forget to bring your backpack each day. But also don’t forget to bring the real important stuff as well.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

Yesterday we made parabolas by drawing a series of intersecting straight lines. To make a curve with straight lines. Pretty awesome!

And we did it the way most beauty comes about in this world: by systematically doing the same thing over and over. We drew a straight line between 1 on the x-axis and 12 on the y-axis. And then 2 on the horizontal and 11 on the vertical. On and on, until something beguiling and beautiful appeared. 

Simple rules followed over and over. It’s how mountains form and erode, how the best parts of our culture grow and change, and maybe even how our own individual lives come to have meaning. Each day, simply lived, building into something transformed.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Thinkers,

Yesterday we learned about the philosopher and mathematician Rene Descartes lying in bed and watching that fly zoom across his ceiling. He thought, “How can I accurately describe where that fly is located at each moment?” Presto, our coordinate grid system was born. 

It’s a very useful system that allows humans to better describe and understand our world. And that’s really what math and science is all about–creating models of our world so we can better understand it.

But sometimes we get it confused and think our models are the world. We think the fly is somehow aware of the coordinate grid we’ve trapped him in. But we’re only measurers and describers and weak-fingered graspers of a deeper reality.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Namers and Named,

Since we read that great poem by JonArno Lawson, I’ve been thinking a lot about names and how we humans use them. And it has reminded me of what a great power and responsibility it is.

Every morning we greet one another by name. Because when humans name something, it means we take it in, learn about it, and watch it grow. That’s what we do when we name hurricanes, when we name newly discovered species or stars, and when we greet each other every morning. 

So when you call your classmate by name this morning, I want you to think about your responsibility to them. Because we owe a lot to the things that we call by name. 

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Stargazers,

Humans have long looked up at the night sky and drawn creatures between the stars. And we got so good at it that we started to believe that those stars might control our destinies. That being born under certain stars might shape our lives.

But, of course, those stars are actually far, far apart, and they don’t have anything to do with each other; they only appear that way on Earth. 

So while those constellations don’t say much about the broader universe and don’t determine our individual fates, they do power our imaginations. And they do help us steer our ships. And they do connect us to our fellow stargazers in the past and those to come in the future.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

You’ve been learning about triangles–scalene, obtuse, right, isosceles. And that’s all important stuff. 

But it’s not really about the triangles. I’ve not come across many isosceles triangles in my real life because isosceles triangles mostly exist in the imaginary plane that hovers over reality.

And yet we spend most of our lives in that imaginary plane. It’s the world of properties, attributes, relations, and rules. It’s the world of ideas. And it’s over the top of every system that you will be a part of for the rest of your life. 

So if you can master a simple system like triangles, you’re better able to navigate complex systems like the workplace, the tax code, politics, and human relations. Look to the isosceles triangle to be your guide.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

I always keep a pad of sticky notes in my back pocket (name brand only, please). Even when I’m out as a civilian in blue jeans, I keep them there. And I’ve found that these little squares have many uses. In fact, whenever I face a problem, my first thought is always: how can I solve this with a sticky note?

A quick thank you to a colleague? A list of brainstormed ideas? A reminder to do something? A label for how something works (or doesn’t work)? A to-do list? A mantra? All easily accomplished with a sticky note.

Because often the best solution to a problem is a few well-placed words.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

I hope you remembered to be thankful last week. For what you have and for who you have. Maybe you even went around the table and listed a few of those things.

But being thankful does more than just remind us of what we have; it also reminds us of the things that we don’t need–the things that keep us away from what we’re truly thankful for.

And they might not even be real things. They might be feelings or actions or even just thoughts. So don’t be afraid to put those things aside. If you’re thankful for your family and friends, it’s probably time to stop doing or saying things that show that you’re not.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

I made waffles yesterday and I had that familiar problem–either the batter overflows the waffle iron and you end up with a mess on your counter or the batter doesn’t go all the way to the edge of your iron and you end up with incomplete waffles.

Measure, you say. And that is a good practice. But there are just so many variables–the consistency of your batter, the temperature of your waffle iron, the amount and location of your batter.

I insist on a complete waffle, so I’ve accepted that cleaning batter off the counter is just part of making waffles. And it seems like a small price to pay for the light, crispy magic of a well-made waffle.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt