letters to my class

Dear Humans,

I was driving to church the other day and there was a bit of traffic. And I had to remind myself that I was part of the traffic problem too. All these people were just doing the same thing I was–trying to get somewhere. And together we were part of the bigger problem.

But then in church we were singing a song together and I was also part of something bigger. And I sounded a whole lot better than I would’ve singing by myself. Perhaps it was just that I couldn’t hear myself quite as well. But I think it was more than that too.

We’re always part of something bigger than ourselves–for better and for worse.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

Tonight is a full moon. But not just a full moon, a supermoon. And a super harvest moon. And a super harvest moon in a partial lunar eclipse. So look up from your screen around 8:40. You’ll see something that you won’t see again for a while.

Which is the great thing about astronomical events–they show us something rare. And yet, a new, rare astronomical event seems to happen all the time. The next two full moons are also supermoons. And a full lunar eclipse will come in March.

That’s because we live in a complex solar system with different sized bodies dancing with one another at different speeds and distances. And it’s our sacred duty to look up.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

We’ve been talking a lot about cereal crops–corn, rice, wheat. It’s because they are the foundations of our civilization. About 10,000 years ago people started planting these grasses on purpose, harvesting more than they needed, and selling the surplus. And they completely changed the world.

Because then cities sprung up. And when people gather together in cities they share ideas and tools and diseases. And they come up with religions and writing systems and laws and punishments. And it’s a lot of good stuff and there’s some bad stuff too. 

And none of what we have today would be possible without it. Because we’re still part of that story. And we get a say in how that story continues.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

Today we’re going to create some beautiful similes. Metaphors and similes are like a human superpower. We take two seemingly unrelated things and insist that they are alike in certain ways.

And the best metaphors are like a breath of fresh air. Because they convince us that the world is a little more than we thought. Perhaps this world is more than just the flesh and blood where like things are alike. Perhaps there’s another world of the mind where unalike things are connected in deep and meaningful ways. 

Or perhaps we can create such a world. One simile at a time.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

Yesterday we read The Man in the Red Bandana about Welles Crowther, the man who heroically saved people on 9/11 while sacrificing his own life. And it got a little dusty in our classroom. Not just because it was a sad story–though it was sad and tragic. But because in the face of that tragedy, Crowther showed great courage.

Aristotle said courage was the first virtue. Without it, no other virtues are possible. No justice, no mercy, no wisdom, no hope.

But with courage, great things are possible. Perhaps not for us, but for others. Because courage–as the man in the red bandana showed–almost always begins with putting others before ourselves.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

Today we’re going to draft our informational essays. And I know that the blank page can be intimidating. That’s because there are an infinite number of ways to say a thing. That doesn’t mean that every way to say a thing is the right way to say it. Or that there is no wrong way to say the thing. But there’s never only one way to say a thing.

And if we get too worried about trying to find the one right way to say a thing, then we’re never going to figure out our own way to say it. And that’s the whole point of picking up a pencil in the first place: to scrawl out something in the way that only we can.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

Some mornings when I go to make coffee, I notice that the cats puked on the carpet. So I pretend I don’t see it and step over it. But while making coffee I forget about it and without fail, inevitably, every single time, I step right in it.

Which is a bummer. But it lifts my heart a little. Because it makes me think that there might be a little justice in this world after all. If my misdeed led to an immediate consequence, maybe other bad deeds in this world are also being punished. Maybe my enemies have cat puke on their feet too.

And if I do the right thing–clean up the cat puke immediately–maybe life will be just a little bit better.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

On Friday we had our ice cream social. And I don’t think there’s a better metaphor for what we’re trying to do in our classroom than an ice cream sundae. (Plus, the best metaphors are edible.)

I scooped out plain, vanilla ice cream from a big plastic bucket. And I tried really hard to make sure I gave everybody the same-sized scoops. But then you customized your sundae with the toppings that you and your classmates brought in. 

And that’s what a classroom is like. We all get a lot of the same stuff that I dutifully scoop out. But to make it a sundae–to make it good–you have to choose from the gifts that you and your classmates bring in on your own.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

The cringe is unavoidable. You’ll look back at school pictures and shake your head at your hair or outfit. You’ll thumb through old journals and go red with embarrassment. You’ll think about something you once said at a party and want to light out to the hills and never see another human being again.

But cringe is the price we pay for time. And time is the gift that allows us to change. Change what we wear, what we think, and who we are. And those changes always come cursed with the memory of who we used to be. Though in time we come to see it more as a blessing.

But those sideburns were always a mistake.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

When we learn our Fifty, Nifty States, kids always ask how the states got their shapes. For many it’s pretty obvious that it’s natural boundaries like rivers and coastlines. But for all those straight-line states, it’s an equally obvious answer–we, humans, shaped them. And then they shaped us.

Because that’s what humans do. Through words, customs, and laws, we create a world that sits on top of the natural world. And over time, that human-created world gets mixed into the natural world and we start to think that’s the way it’s supposed to be.

And this is not a bad thing. And it’s not a good thing. It’s just an unavoidable thing. One of those stubbornly human things.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt