Dear Humans,

I think we mostly know the right thing to do. There’s a simple test: the wrong thing is the easy thing we want to do; the right thing is the hard thing we don’t.

And it’s strange because after I’ve spent time doing the easy thing–scrolling the internet, buying junk at Target, eating junk from my pantry–I feel tired and empty. When I’m finished doing the hard thing–washing the dishes, cutting up vegetables for a salad, helping my daughter with her homework–I feel refreshed and energized. 

You’d think the hard thing would wear us out. But what’s really exhausting is trying to convince ourselves that the easy thing is the right thing.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

Recently I’ve been reading about the Waco siege. It happened when I was about your age, and the news doesn’t always make a lot of sense when you’re 10 or 11. 

So it’s interesting to relearn about events you’ve lived through. And what you quickly learn is that things that happened 30 years ago still aren’t over. As William Faulkner said, “The past is never dead. It’s not even past.” We continue to live with the history, so it’s important that we try to understand it.

I imagine in 30 years you’ll still be learning about our present situations. But whether you actively learn more about them or not, you won’t be able to escape them.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

Today we’ll read “The Midnight Ride of Paul Revere.” Revere’s ride (along with the rides of many others to warn of the British attack) took place in April of 1775. But Longfellow wrote his poem 85 years later in 1860. So even though the poem was about Paul Revere (with many liberties), it was also just as much about the looming Civil War.

History always works this way. People say that we just ought to look at the facts of history. But “facts” isn’t part of the word history; “story,” however, is. And the way the North re-remembered Paul Revere’s ride on the eve of the Civil War is part of that story.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

The other day I was screwing in a lightbulb and I thought about how old and lame lightbulb jokes are. And then I had a second thought about how lightbulbs aren’t actually that old at all. 

Imagine trying to tell a lightbulb joke to a medieval peasant (or a nobleman, for that case). Their only sources of lights were fire or the sun. And neither of them could be encased in a bulb. They surely couldn’t fathom an electric lightbulb.

And finally I thought about the future and how some day people will look back at me changing my lightbulb in the year 2023 and see me just like the medieval peasant–heading into a future I can’t hardly imagine.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

We cannot pick and choose when we put forth our best effort. Humans–unlike electric fans with lo, med and hi–are built with only two settings: awake or asleep. And when we’re awake, we should always do everything to the best of our abilities.

That’s not to say that everything is equally important. Some things we do in life are more important than other things. But we’ll only be at our best for the important things if we make sure we’re at our best for all the things.

Because if you start picking and choosing when we put forth our best effort, you’re going to find that your best isn’t as good as it used to be. And it’s difficult to get it back.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

Generation Alpha (that’s you) is pretty good at not yucking people’s yums. For the most part, if someone is really into something, you let them have it. You like chess? Cool. You’re a big fan of K-pop? Excellent.

But it’s not always that way. Because the thing about people is that people have opinions. And people love to share them. Which they have a right to. And we have a duty to be civil and hear them.

But we also have a right to ignore them. It’s not always easy, but one thing we find as we get older is that this world is full of wonderful things and experiences. And those things are much more valuable than other people’s opinions of them.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

There is no such thing as a natural disaster. Sure, the earth moves. The weather does extreme things. But it only becomes a disaster when people are in the way. And where people live is not natural at all–it’s the result of decisions we have made over time.

And it’s no coincidence that the people who are least able to weather a disaster are the ones it hits. Many of the people who died in the terrible earthquake in Turkey were refugees from the terrible civil war in Syria. And many of the buildings that collapsed in the terrible earthquake in Turkey were shoddily built because of corruption.

Nature is a powerful force. But its effect on human lives is shaped by human choices.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

We’ve been reading “Androcles and the Lion” this week. That’s the one where Andy pulls the splinter from the lion’s paw and in return the lion doesn’t eat him. 

And even though it originally referred to a Roman slave and a cruel emperor thousands of years ago, we still tell that story because the theme remains true. As they say in Latin, Sibi benefacit qui benefacit amico (He benefits himself who benefits a friend).

Stories last. No matter our current context, we can tell the same story–with a few variations–to help make sense of our lives. And here’s one secret to living the good life: know these old stories well and learn to see yourself in them.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

Major League Baseball is increasing the base size from 15 inches square to 18 inches square. It’s to avoid collisions between baserunners and fielders. But it might also encourage teams to steal more bases because it will shorten the distance between bases by four and a half inches.

Four and a half inches doesn’t seem like much, but if you’ve seen baseball you know that the difference between stealing second or getting tagged is often less than four and half inches. And that change might lead to other unforeseen changes.

Our world is full of little changes that lead to big things. One change leads to another and another and another. And soon reality–what we think of as normal for the current moment–becomes something completely different.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

I heard a former football player say something wise on the radio the other day. We don’t always look to gridiron giants for pearls of wisdom, but here it is: “Our nature will not make us great.”

We humans must work hard and do things we don’t want to do to become great. Discipline ourselves, challenge ourselves, and go beyond our comfort zones. Yes, we should be true to ourselves, but it’s more important that we’re true to the better selves that we’re capable of becoming.

And that’s what school (and sports) is all about–training ourselves to be better than we were yesterday. Learning things that don’t come naturally to us. Changing who we are so we’re more useful to this world.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt