letters to my class

Dear Humans,

On Friday we learned that the founder of Mother’s Day, Anna Jarvis, spent the rest of her life advocating against the holiday. She thought it had become too commercialized. Instead of writing heartfelt notes to their mothers, she saw people buying chocolates, flowers, and Hallmark cards.

So she petitioned to have the holiday ended. She called for boycotts of cardmakers, confectioners, and florists. She even got arrested for disturbing the peace while protesting outside of a candymakers convention.

This is just another example of real history being more complex–and much more interesting–than we might assume. Because history is not the simple story of how we got to now. The present is only a momentary pause in the ongoing churn. Where it goes next is completely up to us.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

Fads come and go. You might think the latest pop-it you bought from Amazon.com is the greatest thing in the world. (Some of your toys are pretty cool!) But it will eventually end up in one of those big blue bins behind Goodwill.

I’ve seen pogs, slap bracelets, Silly Bandz, fidget spinners, slime, and squishies. I’ve even bought some of these things myself. One second they seem to be everywhere, and then, all of sudden, they’re gone. These things pass the time, but time quickly leaves them behind. 

Look for the things that last. They’re not really that hard to find: they’re the things without price tags on them. Time with friends and family, meaningful words, and big ideas about the world. These are the things that will never go out of style.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

The other day I had the thought that the less you know about something, the more you will be able to learn about it. But that’s wrong. That’s dead wrong. That’s not how knowledge works.

Because our minds are not bowls that are to be filled up with the waters of knowledge. Knowledge does not sit stagnant in our mind bowls. Our minds are pumps. Our minds move knowledge from one place to another. And you have to prime the pump.

So the more you know, the more you’re capable of knowing. And the more water you can move. And this world is made by the people who can move water around.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

Yesterday we talked about data. We collect it, organize it, and analyze it. And if we do those things well, then we gain the magical power of seeing the future. Because what happened in the past will most likely happen in the future. 

Now, that’s not always true. Life would be pretty boring if it was. And *looking around* life is far from that. Plus, some things are pretty difficult to turn into crunchable measurements. Human beings–crooked timber that we are–aren’t too good at creating reliable data.

But there’s still something pretty great about using our systematic observations of the past to figure out what’s going to happen in the future. And if we get really good at it, life starts to make a little more sense.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

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