letters to my class

Dear Humans,

I told you yesterday that “Good writing is specific writing.” I’ll probably say that about a thousand more times this year. 

Because when you write, you’re taking your perspective and magically moving it into the mind of your reader. And they’ll only ever be able to see, smell, hear, touch, and taste it if you put it in the most specific way possible.

And if you do, your reader will say, “Oh, I’ve seen that [the thing you’re describing] a million times before. But I’ve never put it into words.” And by reading your specific words about it, they’ll see it again as if for the first time. Good writing is specific writing and good writing makes the world anew.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

Yesterday was Columbus Day. And Columbus Day is not so much about the “discovery” of America as it is about the settlement of America. Because Columbus Day was started by 19th century Italian-American immigrants who, despite facing racism and violence, proudly proclaimed, “We’re part of this place too.” And today, if some Indigenous people refuse to celebrate Columbus Day, it’s because they’re also saying, “We’re part of this place too.”

And the past 500 years has been the story of people, old and new, claiming their part in that story. And it’s not an easy story and it’s not always a pleasant story, but it’s our story.

May it be told for the next 500 years.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

The world changes slowly but also all at once. Just like we need landmarks to guide us as we travel through space, we need events to guide us through the past. So we plant our flag in 1492 and say the world changed forever at that moment.

And it did. Just as it had been changing in the years before and would change in the years after. When you’re living in the moment, the changes come slowly. It’s only in looking back that we can see the events as Events. 

But perhaps understanding history will let us better know what’s happening now. Not because history repeats itself, but because human beings do keep on doing the same stuff, over and over, thinking that it’s new.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

“Eventually” must be a child’s most-hated word. Eventually you’ll be tall enough to ride the roller coaster. Eventually you’ll be old enough to sit in the front seat. Eventually you’ll be mature enough to stay home by yourself. 

But eventually comes quick. And when those freedoms do arrive, they always come with responsibilities. It’s nice to be able to eat whatever you want, but soon you’ll spend a lot of time each day figuring out what you’re going to eat. It’s nice to be able to drive yourself around, but before long you’ll spend much of your day stuck in traffic.

Eventually you’ll come to rue that eventually always comes.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

In the Catalan region of Spain, people compete to build the tallest human towers. These Castells are exactly what they sound like–people standing on other people’s shoulders, layer after layer, sometimes up to ten stories high.

This takes a lot of teamwork. Practice. Risk-taking. And it’s not something you can learn from watching a YouTube video. It’s a tradition that is passed down, person to person.

And like the greatest parts of our human culture, it accomplishes nothing at all. The towers come down, the uniforms come off, and the music ends. But it reminds us who we are as human beings. And it looks cool as heck.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

There’s a thousand year old tapestry that is all the rage in London right now. It’s been in France for at least the last 700 years, but there are many unknowns about where, when, and who actually made the thing.

What we do know is that it’s a 230 foot long piece of cloth that tells the story of the Norman invasion of England–one stitch at a time. And we know that people are waiting in long lines to see it. And not everyone (especially people in France) is very happy about it.

Because isn’t that the way history works? Thousand year old battles never really end. The past is stitched into the fabric of our world, and it unfurls far into the future.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

I bought two-dozen eggs last weekend, so I’ve been cooking up lots of eggs. Good thing there are many, many ways to cook an egg. 

I’ve boiled them, fried them, scrambled them, made them into an omelet, put them in banana bread, and even used the whites to make a drink nice and foamy. I ate them almost every way except for raw. 

Because eggs have two parts–the white and yolk–and because eggs are so sensitive to heat and change, we can do a lot with them. But that also makes them easy to screw up. Break them, under season them, overcook them, make a sticky mess in the pan. Like most things in life, the weaknesses and the strengths walk next to each other, hand in hand.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

Sometimes I do that teacher thing where I blurt out the answer while I’m trying to ask the question. (Some of you still don’t get it right.) And sometimes during a spelling test one of the words is just sitting there on a poster, waiting for anyone to copy it down. 

And though the teacher scolds would probably let me have it for my poor questioning strategies and lack of preparation, I think these lapses show something about our world: if we’re paying attention, if we’re listening, if we’re fully engaged, the right answer is often at our feet, ready for us to pick it up.

Because the truth is a secret that tells itself. If we have ears to hear it.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

Everyone wants an expert. I was at my local strip mall the other day and the Wingstop had a sign calling their employees “Wing Experts.” Right next door the credit union claimed that their people were “your local experts.” At least the doctors’ offices are honest enough to call themselves practices.

A real expert isn’t just someone who knows a lot; it’s someone who has the capacity to find out more. Because the more you learn about a topic, the more you know you don’t know. But you might have the means to find out. Which then leads you to more that you don’t know.

Never trust someone who can’t say “I don’t know.” That’s something real experts say all the time.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

Yesterday we drew labyrinths and learned their history. Labyrinths show up throughout human history, independently, and around the world. When that happens, we should pay attention because it says something about what human beings are all about.

And in the case of the labyrinth, it’s not just that it’s a pretty picture or a calming practice. People saw the labyrinth as a metaphor for life. A pathway full of twists and turns that doesn’t seem to have any kind of rhyme or reason when you’re in it but eventually gets you to the end. 

Life is like that in America in 2026 just like it was like that in the Sonoran Desert in the 1700s just like it was like that in Crete in 400 BC.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt