letters to my class

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

Dear Humans,

In the early 19th century young women left their farms in the Northeast and rushed to the textile factories along the banks of the Merrimack River. These women–who we now call The Lowell Mill Girls–worked long hours in often punishing conditions. 

Now we look back at this moment as a major turning point in the Industrial Revolution. A time that forever changed life in America (for better or worse).

As they tended to those spinning machines, do you think those Lowell Mill Girls ever thought that children almost 200 years in the future would read about their lives and draw lessons about how technology changes individuals and society?

More importantly, do you ever think about how future humans will look back on your life right now and think about what lessons it has to teach them? After all, our lives are letters to the future that we write every day.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

I drove all the way up Riverdale Road the other day. Ten miles from just north of 88th to Highway 7. And it got me thinking about history.

Have you heard the stories about Riverdale Road? That you can see a lady in a white dress who disappears as soon as you spot her? That you can see bloody handprints on the street signs? That you can hear screams from where the Wolpert mansion once stood? That a Camaro with one-headlight cruises around the windy curves?

I don’t believe in ghost stories, but I do believe in history. And I do know that history haunts the present. The things that happened in a place make a place–and the people who live there–what it is today.

Even if they didn’t really happen.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

Some paleontologists published a paper this week that claimed Tyrannosaurus Rex is not one species, but three. Other paleontologists disagreed. 

Of course, nothing changed about the T.rex. All that’s changed–or is currently being challenged–is our ideas about the T.rex. And, when it comes to a species (or species-es) that has been extinct for over 65 million years, our ideas are all that we have.

Sue–the most complete T.rex ever discovered–is still only about 90% made up of real fossils. And paleontologists are always changing how they arrange those fossils because they’re constantly making new discoveries about what the T.rex looked like and how it moved.

Though the world has changed a lot during my life (I walk around with a computer in my pocket!), it sure seems like the past has changed even more.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

I can’t think of much worse than being normal. Always looking at people looking at you and adjusting yourself to what you think they’re thinking. It sounds exhausting. 

Plus, here’s a little secret: other people aren’t thinking about you nearly as much as you might think they are. They are, like all of us, thinking mostly about themselves. 

Besides, being normal seems distracting. The world is so full of things to look at, think on, and enjoy. To always be looking over your shoulder wondering if you’re living up to someone else’s standard seems like a waste of precious time.

So be curious, be critical, be friendly, and be bold. But don’t just be normal.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

I’ve been in schools for a long time. So long that I remember when baggy jeans used to be cool. And then I saw when skinny jeans were all the rage. And I’m still here when baggy jeans (or even pajama pants) are back again.

And it’s never been the principals or the teachers or the kitchen staff or the custodian that determined the quality of the school. They’re important, no doubt. And they can help set a tone for a place. But it’s always been the kids.

You live in a place and you have great power over that place. As part of the community, you are in charge of that community. You get to decide what kind of place it will be. With your words, attitude, and actions.

No matter what kind of pants you’re wearing.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

Yesterday we learned about the history of thermometers and the Fahrenheit and Celsius scales that we use to measure temperature. And I told you that water boils at 212 degrees Fahrenheit. Which is true in the way that most things can only ever be true–it’s true under certain conditions. 

Pure water boils at 212 degrees Fahrenheit at sea level. But where we live at over 5,000 feet, pure water boils at about 203 degrees. But, again, it depends on the conditions.

We use tools to try to understand the natural world, but these tools often show just how complex and dynamic that natural world is. It does not easily give itself up to our understanding. And yet our attempts at understanding it will never stop.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt