letters to my class

Dear Humans,

I really like flags and kites and banners. Things that flap in the wind. Because they show us that the most powerful things in this world are often invisible. And while we can know them in many ways–feel the breeze in our face, hear the leaves rustling in the wind, smell Greeley carried in on an approaching snow storm–sometimes they’re difficult to really, truly see.

We talk about this in science all the time. Because science is the art of “seeing” things that we can’t really see. We do our best to see the invisible by observing closely related things and using complex and expensive instruments and collecting data, but sometimes the best aid to seeing the unseen is a simple piece of nylon flapping in the wind.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

Old people often say, “When I was in math class they only taught us the right way to get the answer. Now there’s all these new ways to solve problems.” Which isn’t really true because the “new” ways are actually older than the standardized algorithms. And the “new” ways have us think about how the number system works, not just follow arbitrary steps.

If you memorize steps and dutifully follow them, you will probably get the right answer. And that’s nice. But we live in a world where too many people are getting the correct answers and almost nobody is asking the right questions.

So that’s how you know you’re really getting it in math. If right after you answer a question you say, “Okay, but what about this? Is there another way I can think about this problem?”

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

Number the Stars is some pretty heavy stuff. But maybe history is always heavy stuff. Because even though it took place a long time ago–the Nazis occupied Denmark over 80 years ago–history smacks us across the face because the things that happened long ago and far  away don’t actually seem that far away at all.

Because we still see people in power trying to punish people simply for being who they are. And whenever we see that, as Annemarie saw it happening in Denmark, we have to find the courage to resist it. To fight it. And to help those who suffer.

The world is far too complex for history to offer us a blueprint for what the future will look like. But history can show us what it means to live courageously in our own times.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

I don’t like everything. Some things I find quite boring. Golf, for instance. But I’ve learned that I should not be too judgy about things that I don’t like. Or at least keep those judgements to myself. (I don’t always succeed!) 

Because if something makes someone feel alive in this world–whether it’s music, dance, art, or even smacking a dimpled, white ball around an over-manicured cow pasture–then there’s something there. If we don’t “get” it, then the problem probably lies within us. (Where most of our problems reside.)

May you have the longevity and patience to always change your mind. Because the world is too rich a place to dismiss anything before we give it a chance.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

We sure do like to make rules for other people. At the first sign of trouble, we say, “Hey, let’s make some more rules to fix this problem.” And then we expect others to follow those rules (even if we have no intention of doing so ourselves).

If only other people would follow our rules, we think, then life would be just about perfect.

But a much more important thing we should do (and a much more difficult thing to do) is make sure we follow the rules that we make for ourselves. It’s not easy. Especially if you’re the type of person who always needs someone else to tell you what you should do.

But figuring out our own right way to live, and living up to it every day, is the secret to the good life.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

Snowflake Bentley is my hero. He took a thing that he knew well and loved–snowflakes–and dedicated his life to taking pictures of them and learning about them. And in doing so, he taught us to see unique beauty in places we may not have looked before.

Snowflakes form by following simple rules, but out of simple rules grows great diversity. That’s what we see in snowflakes–complexity growing out of simplicity. But we didn’t see it until Snowflake Bentley–with his camera, his discipline, and his lifetime of patient dedication–made us look.

There is still much to be discovered in our world. And it’s not only far off in outer space or deep in our oceans. Some of it is right in front of us. If we have the patience and dedication to really look.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

Yesterday was the Ides of March, the anniversary of Julius Caesar’s assassination way back in 44 B.C.. It was kind of a big deal, but there have been many big deals that have been lost to history. We remember it 2,066 years later because of William Shakespeare’s immortal words: “Beware the Ides of March.”

We are surrounded by words. A cacophony of voices. But a tiny fraction of those are written down. And a sliver of that fraction of those written words are remembered. And a select few of those remembered, written words reshape our very language and become something that we use to make sense of the world. 

Most of the words we use dissipate into the air. But our goal should be to use words that will shape the future, perhaps even remembered 2000 years from now.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

We didn’t eat pie yesterday. Even though it was March 14th–3/14, the first three digits of pi–the mathematical constant that describes the relationship between a circle’s diameter and its circumference. (Like many things in math, it’s also a lot more than that.)

Pi is pretty neat. And the quest to discover more and more digits of pi neatly aligns with the human story of mathematical discovery. But the Egyptians were able to build the pyramids with a pretty rough approximation of pi, so that’s good enough for me.

Because math is more than just memorization. Math is thinking about patterns and relationships. Knowing in your gut the relationship between a circle’s diameter and its circumference is math; reciting digits is just a parlor trick.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

You can get a long way in life just by being pleasant. If you do and say things that make other people feel special, they’ll give you a lot of leeway. And they’ll always remember how you made them feel.

And being pleasant isn’t really all that difficult, is it? It doesn’t require any special knowledge or skills? How hard can it be?

Well, actually….

Being pleasant requires being present. Which means being fully engaged with the person in front of you. It means being patient and really listening to what they’re saying. 

And that is not an easy thing to do. Especially in a world so full of distractions. A world that tries to convince us that we’re the most important thing in it.

But, like most difficult things, it is worth it.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

Be skeptical. Ask questions, cast doubt, raise concerns. There are a lot of people out there who are trying to trick you (usually into buying their stuff) so a little skepticism is a very good thing. 

But skepticism is best aimed inwards. I know skeptics who don’t believe a thing anyone else tells them, but they don’t ask the first question about the thoughts bouncing around their own head. 

If we’re going to be deceived in this world, it will probably be by ourselves. While we buy other people’s nonsense every once in a while, we buy our own in bulk.

So don’t believe everything you hear. Especially the stuff that comes from your own mouth.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt