letters to my class

Dear Humans,

Yesterday we came across that famous Carl Sandburg quote–“Time is the coin of your life. Spend it wisely.” And it’s true. How we spend our time is much, much more important than how we spend our money. Because, unlike money, we all have the same amount of time.

Now, some people have more freedom over their time than others (and that’s often related to money) and rich people do live longer than poor people. But we each get 24 hours in a day. And, whatever our life circumstances, we get to decide how we spend them.

So spend your time wisely. It is your most valuable possession. But also remember that time–like money and love–is best spent on others.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

Sunday was National Puzzle Day. I love puzzles. Because puzzles have nice, tidy solutions. You put that last piece into the jigsaw puzzles or you finally unravel that tricky theme on a crossword–it’s a good feeling. 

But what happens in the real world is a lot different. The natural world–and the humans that live in it–do not have nice, tidy solutions. There is no answer key to get a hint. Sometimes the real world doesn’t even seem to have logical explanations.

That’s because the real world isn’t a puzzle at all. It’s a mystery. And there are no nice, tidy solutions to a mystery. And there’s no use really trying to solve it. The best we can do is help one another experience it more fully.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

Humans are creatures of habits–both good and bad. We’re not very good at thinking logically and making the best choice; we mostly do what we’ve done before.

So our best hope is to pick up good ones. Many experts agree that one good habit is to say positive words to ourselves. It is as simple as waking up in the morning and saying to ourselves, “This will be a good day.”

It feels silly and it doesn’t seem like it will help much. But words have great power. They shape our perceptions of the world and they can shape our actions. Which just might lead to us, indeed, having a good day.

And if our words have such an impact on us, imagine how they affect others.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

Good listeners know that other people have stories worth telling. And by listening, we might learn how their stories entwine with our own. But we have to really listen, not just wait until their mouths stop moving so we can start moving our own. 

You learn more with your ears than your mouth. But you really learn the most with your brain. We have to really think about what we’re told. But when our mouths are working, sometimes our brains stop.

So the best thing you can do when you’re listening is to pause. Really think about what a person said to you, and then respond. And the best response is usually a question.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

Yesterday we talked about Earth’s climate zones. It’s confusing because there are many classification systems. Some say 12 zones, some say five, some say three. They’re all basically the same, but there are always variations.

Because knowing the world is complex: humans disagree and have ongoing conversations about it. And the point of school is not to give you a bunch of facts to remember about the world, but to get you involved in these conversations.

Now, if you don’t know what’s been said in that conversation before, no one is going to listen to what you have to say. But if you do, and if you add your own voice to that conversation, you will have the whole world’s attention.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

We’re reading about technology and how it changes the human world. And since the beginning, since humans first controlled fire, planted a wheat seed, or put a yoke on a beast of burden, we’ve been having mixed feelings about technology.

It greatly improves our lives, but at what cost?

We still have those feelings. We worry about the pressing matters–will this take people’s jobs? And we worry about the existential costs–the Doomsday Clock just moved closer to midnight. But we also worry that technology will change what it means to be human.

You’ll spend the rest of your lives wrestling with these questions. Just like every human before you. But the stakes might be a little bit higher.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

Now I’m not gonna sit here and say I enjoy folding the laundry. But it does remind me that you can only do one thing at a time.

You have that big pile of warm laundry and the only way to make it smaller is one piece at a time. (I like to fold the big things first to make the pile seem smaller.)

Other things in my life I try to do all at once. You should see how many tabs I have open on my internet browser. It gives me a headache everytime I look at them. 

I should probably do everything in my life the same way I fold my laundry: one piece at a time.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

I’m setting goals for myself in this new year. One of them is to never go to bed unless the kitchen is clean. No more dirty dishes left in the sink. And I’ve been doing pretty well.

But then the dishwasher stopped working.

And isn’t that just the way it goes? Just when you think the living is easy, something goes awry. And the old adage about life never getting easier is true again.

So I can use it as an excuse and convince myself the universe is conspiring against me (it isn’t) or I can spend a couple more minutes with my hands in soapy water and my eyes still fixed on my goals.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

Yesterday I got my car stuck in the snow. Right in the middle of an intersection. It was the tall wet slushy stuff and my tires couldn’t catch anything to grab onto.

I spun my wheels for a while. Backed up a little bit and spun them some more. But I wasn’t getting anywhere. Finally, once other cars were out of the way, I backed up all the way behind the stop sign, gathered enough speed, and blasted through the slush.

Sometimes the only way we can go forward is by going back to where we were. And sometimes the only way through something is with a full head of steam.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

Yesterday I shoveled that heavy, wet snow. And it was tiring and back-breaking work. My plan was to just clear some of the snow and then come back later. I set my watch’s timer for 20 minutes and after 20 minutes of hard work, I was going to take a break.

But my timer went off and I just kept going. And eventually I just went into a mindless fog of moving snow. I became one with the shovel.

I wouldn’t call it happiness really. I was still weirdly hot and cold at the same time and my back still hurt, but it was contentment. The contentment of getting lost in a task that you know is important and blocking out everything else.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt