letters to my class

Dear Humans,

The Colorado state constitution guarantees you a free public and uniform education. But the language actually says “all residents of the state between the ages of 6 and 21 may be educated gratuitously.” Now, in legal terms, gratuitously just means “free.” You don’t have to pay an entrance fee to enter the school door. (Although apples and World’s Best Teacher mugs are nice.)

But in our general language, gratuitously means “over the top” or “more than is warranted.” If you do something gratuitously, you do way more than is expected. 

So that is my new mission. To educate you gratuitously. Over the top. Instead of just learning the 50 U.S. States, we’re going for the territories. Maybe the 10 provinces of Canada and Mexico’s 31 states too.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

I put together a lot of IKEA furniture last weekend, and the step-by-step instruction books were helpful. I did, however, read to the end of the manual first. And, occasionally, checked to make sure the dresser I was assembling actually resembled a dresser.

We live in a world full of algorithms, recipes, stacks, hacks, and guides that promise us they will give us what we want if we just effortlessly follow their lead. Just watch a YouTube video. Just ask Siri.

And yet, without the bigger picture, such directions don’t do us much good. We might accomplish a task, but at what cost? Following our GPS app’s turn-by-turn directions will get us where we want to go, without ever knowing where we actually are.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

One of my favorite quotes comes from a biologist named D’Arcy Wentworth Thompson who said, “Everything is the way it is because it got that way.” That’s about as obvious as “Water is wet,” but I often need reminded of obvious things.

I like it because it tells us that everything has a story. That rock sitting over there, the name on that street sign, the latest nonsensical slang that’s all the rage in middle school. It all came from somewhere, and us humans, feeble-minded though we often are, can piece it together.

Sometimes the stories take us to the furthest reaches of our understanding, and sometimes they’re incomplete or paradoxical or straight-up confusing. But everything in this world is findoutable.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

Yesterday I saw a little girl riding her training-wheeled bike to the park when she hit a curb and came to an abrupt stop. Her mom had to pick up the entire apparatus–bike and rider both–and lift them up over the curb.

And it made me think of my childhood hometown where my friends and I would ride our bikes all over. We had a shared map of all the best curbs and cutouts to use as ramps for our Huffys. And we’d catch “big” air and felt for sure we’d win the X Games if only ESPN knew our names.

Our obstacles as beginners become the stepping stones to making us great. (Though sometimes our mommies would have to tend to our wounds after wipeouts.)

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

A long time ago people thought it was so important that the children of their neighbors knew about the world that they willingly paid extra money to pay for schools to educate them. And we continue this system today. 

So everyone in the houses around our school pays a little bit extra each month on their mortgage or rent, so you can spend seven hours a day learning, socializing, and becoming productive members of our society. Sometimes these people even vote to pay even more because they want you to have nicer stuff. (Like our brand new school building!)

Remember that. It’s not just your parents or your teachers that you want you to do well in school. It’s also your neighbors.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

This weekend I cleaned out my fridge. And it was an undertaking. Furry cucumbers bathing in vegetable juice at the bottom of the crisper bin. Unrecognizable leftovers I couldn’t remember cooking. Multiple bottles of coffee creamer in various states of chunkiness.

If only I had maintained it a little bit each day. Threw things out and made room as I put new things in. 

Life comes at us day after day and things accumulate. So we have to do a little bit at a time to keep up with that constant churn. If we do these small daily tasks–keep our book bin organized each day, put our clothes away instead of piling them up–then we can avoid the big endeavors, the enterprises, the projects.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

I got a new backpack this summer. For the first time in like 13 years. Because the zipper on my old one no longer zippered.

My favorite thing about my new backpack (besides the functioning zipper) is all the pockets–eight in all, a variety of sizes, some of them even hidden. And I’ve had fun figuring out what I want to put in each one. Because only one of them–the laptop sleeve–has a labeled use.

Life is basically exactly like a new backpack, full of pockets that you have to figure out what you’re going to do with. Sometimes you’ll find a pocket in life that’s like that laptop compartment, and it tells you what you’re “supposed” to put in it. But most of life is about making those pockets, pouches, and compartments your own.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

It’s better to know things than to not know things because once you know some things it makes it easier to learn more things.

But learning facts–like the names and locations of all 50 states–just for the sake of learning them won’t get us very far. We learn them because the knowledge helps us answer big questions about what it means to live in a certain place, how that place shapes us, and how we shape it.

And the best way to pick up knowledge is to use it to try to answer these big questions. So when you’re studying the states in the west today, ask yourself: “What makes this place and the people in it unique? What do they have in common? What makes them Western?”

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

On a recent survey, only 34% of Americans said, “most people can be trusted.” This is as low as it’s ever been.

It makes sense. It sure seems like everyone out there is out to get you. We’re always on our guard against spam calls, scam emails, and fake news. It seems wise to be skeptical and withhold our trust.

And yet, the best way to protect ourselves in such a low-trust world is to build strong bonds of trust. To find those things that we’re sure of and invest ourselves more deeply.

My goal this year is to make this classroom such a place. Where we can build up bonds of trust in one another and ourselves. So we’re ready for a wide world that’s not as trusting.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

One thing parents try to teach their children before they start school is how to tie their shoes. It’s an important milestone. Because if you’re tying your own shoes, it means you’re a little more independent. And then you’re ready to go out into the world.

And when you’re independent, you’re ready to enter public places (such as school) and become part of the conversation. Because it’s in public places that we figure out how we’re going to live together. How we’re going to share our resources, how we’re going to create our rules, how we’re going to hold each other accountable. 

And we do all of that with our shoes on and tightly tied.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt