letters to my class

Dear Humans,

Yesterday I saw a little girl riding her training-wheeled bike to the park when she hit a curb and came to an abrupt stop. Her mom had to pick up the entire apparatus–bike and rider both–and lift them up over the curb.

And it made me think of my childhood hometown where my friends and I would ride our bikes all over. We had a shared map of all the best curbs and cutouts to use as ramps for our Huffys. And we’d catch “big” air and felt for sure we’d win the X Games if only ESPN knew our names.

Our obstacles as beginners become the stepping stones to making us great. (Though sometimes our mommies would have to tend to our wounds after wipeouts.)

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

A long time ago people thought it was so important that the children of their neighbors knew about the world that they willingly paid extra money to pay for schools to educate them. And we continue this system today. 

So everyone in the houses around our school pays a little bit extra each month on their mortgage or rent, so you can spend seven hours a day learning, socializing, and becoming productive members of our society. Sometimes these people even vote to pay even more because they want you to have nicer stuff. (Like our brand new school building!)

Remember that. It’s not just your parents or your teachers that you want you to do well in school. It’s also your neighbors.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

This weekend I cleaned out my fridge. And it was an undertaking. Furry cucumbers bathing in vegetable juice at the bottom of the crisper bin. Unrecognizable leftovers I couldn’t remember cooking. Multiple bottles of coffee creamer in various states of chunkiness.

If only I had maintained it a little bit each day. Threw things out and made room as I put new things in. 

Life comes at us day after day and things accumulate. So we have to do a little bit at a time to keep up with that constant churn. If we do these small daily tasks–keep our book bin organized each day, put our clothes away instead of piling them up–then we can avoid the big endeavors, the enterprises, the projects.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

I got a new backpack this summer. For the first time in like 13 years. Because the zipper on my old one no longer zippered.

My favorite thing about my new backpack (besides the functioning zipper) is all the pockets–eight in all, a variety of sizes, some of them even hidden. And I’ve had fun figuring out what I want to put in each one. Because only one of them–the laptop sleeve–has a labeled use.

Life is basically exactly like a new backpack, full of pockets that you have to figure out what you’re going to do with. Sometimes you’ll find a pocket in life that’s like that laptop compartment, and it tells you what you’re “supposed” to put in it. But most of life is about making those pockets, pouches, and compartments your own.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

It’s better to know things than to not know things because once you know some things it makes it easier to learn more things.

But learning facts–like the names and locations of all 50 states–just for the sake of learning them won’t get us very far. We learn them because the knowledge helps us answer big questions about what it means to live in a certain place, how that place shapes us, and how we shape it.

And the best way to pick up knowledge is to use it to try to answer these big questions. So when you’re studying the states in the west today, ask yourself: “What makes this place and the people in it unique? What do they have in common? What makes them Western?”

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

On a recent survey, only 34% of Americans said, “most people can be trusted.” This is as low as it’s ever been.

It makes sense. It sure seems like everyone out there is out to get you. We’re always on our guard against spam calls, scam emails, and fake news. It seems wise to be skeptical and withhold our trust.

And yet, the best way to protect ourselves in such a low-trust world is to build strong bonds of trust. To find those things that we’re sure of and invest ourselves more deeply.

My goal this year is to make this classroom such a place. Where we can build up bonds of trust in one another and ourselves. So we’re ready for a wide world that’s not as trusting.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

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