letters to my class

Dear Humans,

Some things are the same over and over. The bell rings the same time every day. It even rings on days you’re not here. It’s always weird when I’m working in our classroom while you’re at home playing Xbox and the bell rings.

But some things are new. Yesterday after our exciting tornado warning (talk about something new!) I saw the lowest rainbow I’ve ever seen in my life. Instead of looking like an arch, it looked more like a dome.

The internet says it has something to do with the elevation of the sun and the shape of the raindrops. But I’m not totally sure.

But I am sure of one thing: the world is full of new things. But we have to learn to pay attention to them. A rainbow stretched across the sky is pretty obvious, but newness hides in crooks and nannies and in places we least expect. Find them.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

I still can’t believe I dropped the birthday cupcakes yesterday. It’s a moment that will haunt me forever. When bad things have happened in my life–car wrecks, major accidents–time seemed to slow down and reality felt like a dream. And that’s exactly what it was like yesterday–cupcakes tumbling in slow motion towards the ground. 

It’s hard to create things and it’s easy to destroy them. It takes hours to bake and decorate cupcakes, and it only takes a couple of seconds to ruin them.But what’s really hard, and what takes a really long time, is trying to make things right after you’ve messed up. You apologize and try to fix things the best you can, but you can’t ever go back.

Because second chances only come in the future. So we look back long enough to learn some lessons for next time, but we keep our faces forward and our feet walking–one step at a time.

And walk carefully if you’re carrying cupcakes.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

My favorite thing about my daughters is that while we’re out on a walk or bike ride, they insist on stopping at every Lost Dog or Lost Cat poster. And they read it closely. And they deeply empathize. And they promise to do all they can to find Sparkles or Rover.

Because kids meet the world heartfirst. Adults, somewhere along the line, forget how to do that. We say it’s because we know more and have experienced more. Maybe we’ve lost a few dogs or cats of our own. Or maybe we suspect that the person who lost their pet wasn’t a very responsible pet owner and “this is what happens.”

We like to think it’s because we’re wiser. But maybe our hearts just got calloused.

My hope for my children–and for you–is that they never stop letting the world hit them first in the heart. They never let wisdom become a substitute for love.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

A shadow–a normal, everyday thing. A thing that has been following you around since you’ve been around. A thing so ever present that you probably stopped paying attention to it a long time ago.

And yet that humble shadow can help reveal deep truths about our planet, our solar system, and even the entire universe. It shows us that giant galactic bodies millions of miles away are locked in an intricate and rhythmic dance. And we’re just passengers.

But we’re passengers who have a map and schedule, and we know our destination and when we’ll arrive. And it’s all because we cast the shadows, and because we have a human mind that is primed to notice the world around us and make sense of it.

Because we’re small and insignificant, we can’t always see the whole truth. But we can see its shadows. And from that we can start to figure it out.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

Yesterday I made ramen and I noticed the flavoring packet said, “Please tear along this line.” And I thought how nice it was for my ramen to ask nicely. I mean, if my foil chicken flavor pouch can use “please” and “thank you,” then surely we all can as well.

“Please” and “thank you” is important because, at least for a while, it puts us on equal footing. We each have our own unique lives. We have different numbers on our pay stubs, different cars in our driveway, and different kinds of peanut butter in our pantry.

But good manners gives us common ground. At least for a while. At least long enough to perform some simple task of humanity such as getting our lunch from the cafeteria line, paying for our groceries at the store, or getting new tags on our license plates.

So thank you for the manners reminder, ramen noodle flavor packet. I’ll try not to slurp my soup.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

One thing I’ve learned as a teacher is that every single person has something to teach you. You might think you know a lot of things, but there’s always someone in the room who knows something you don’t. It doesn’t matter their age or where they’re from or what they do. They have something that you need.

Because the world doesn’t keep its knowledge in books or libraries or even in the digital cloud; it stores it in each of the 8 billion people spread around the globe.

But if you only surround yourself with people who know the same things you know, then you won’t learn much of anything. So include others and put yourself in new situations. Only then will you begin to discover the depth and wonder of the world’s knowledge.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

But second days. Second days are really important.

Because on day two we show who we really are. When we’re tired or bored or think no one is looking. On second days, we reveal the current version of the true us. And it’s that version that we should work on making the best we can.

So if your new Vans are a little scuffed or your pencil doesn’t ever get quite as sharp as it did on day one, that’s okay. Everyone is going through the same thing. Because now we’re in the heart of it. We’ve left behind the gloss of the first day and we’re ready to do the real work, the work that keeps us coming back every day, trying to be a better version of our real selves.

One day at a time.

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

It seems like I spend most of my time in the shower adjusting the temperature. It’s too hot or too cold and I constantly have to move the handle. And then I yell because I made it too hot or too cold. And then readjust and readjust again.

Sometimes I dream the dream of my shower always being the perfect temperature. And I suppose I could make it happen if I took some drastic changes. If I installed a tankless water heater or if I made a strict schedule of hot water use in my house.

But, honestly, adjusting the shower temperature is pretty low on my list of life’s irritations. And it’s a nice exercise for living. Because in our complex world full of wonder and weirdness, we have to be prepared to adjust and readjust and readjust again.

Sincerely,

Mr. H

Dear Humans,

I love sandwiches. I mean, I really love them. Not only do I like eating them and making them, but I also like thinking about them. Because a sandwich isn’t just meat and cheese between two floppy slices of bread. A sandwich is a system.

The story is that John Montagu was playing cards and had the eureka idea to put his roast beef between two slices of bread so he could eat it with one hand. But that’s not really how things are invented. In truth, people have been putting meat and cheese and other foods on bread or wrapped in bread for centuries and centuries.

And like the best things in life, a sandwich can look many different ways. Variation is the rule. As long as it has certain components—bread, of course, and fat and acid and something crunchy and something creamy—then it’s a sandwich in my book.

Sincerely,

Mr. H

Dear Humans,

We stirred salt into water and it disappeared. But we know it’s still there, just in pieces to small to see. We know because we measured the mass, and the mass of the solution was more than the mass of the water.

We expect science to give us the “Wow!” moment with big explosions and beautiful colors and ideas that melt our minds, but it’s actually a lot simpler than that. But also a lot more profound.

Because science is a pair of magical goggles that lets us see what’s not there. With tools and investigations we see things that our normal, feeble human senses just can’t pick up. Science extends our senses and lets us experience the world that exists beyond.

I’ll take that over simple explosions.

Sincerely,

Mr. Heimbuck