letters to my class

Dear Humans,

It’s been interesting (and a little gross) to see those pictures of people sneezing and coughing on the news. The ones where they somehow light up the particles that we send flying through the air to see how far they can really go.

So much of our impact on other people is invisible and easy to overlook. We might like to think we’re independent and rational individuals, but we get up in each others’ business in lots and lots of ways.

And it’s more than just spittle. It’s words. It’s actions. It’s a stone dropped in a pond and rippling out. But not in predictable concentric circles. In complex and unpredictable patterns. And yet we’re still responsible for the harm we cause. That’s what it means to live in the world.

Sincerely,

Mr. Heimbuck

Dear Humans,

When my daughters get tired, I play Frisbee with myself. I throw the Frisbee up in the air and try to catch it. It’s a little tricky because it comes down at a steep angle. And it comes down fast.

An adult does something and a child emulates. So my older daughter started hucking the disc into the air and trying to catch it. It took her quite a few throws before she got one in the air that she could catch, but when she did…..WHACK! Smacked her right in the forehead.

Don’t believe the lie that all pain is good. Sometimes things just hurt and you don’t learn a thing. But sometimes powerful lessons come with the helpful reminder of ouch.

Sincerely,

Mr. Heimbuck

Dear Humans,

I love throwing a Frisbee in the backyard. And one of my goals during this time at home is to teach my daughters how to throw and catch a flying disc.

The thing about throwing a Frisbee is that technique matters more than power. If you try to throw it as hard as you can, it will probably wobble and hit the ground after only a few feet. But if you get the release and spin just right, it will fly straight and true.

Our world often rewards strength and power, but cleverness and technique are also rewarded And, most of all, our society values those who practice something over and over and get really good at. No matter what it is.

Sincerely,

Mr. Heimbuck

Dear Humans,

I’ve been making a lot of hard-boiled eggs. I don’t particularly like them, but they’re good for dyeing and hiding.

When you prepare to make hard-boiled eggs, you find out that everyone has their own method for the “best” hard-boiled eggs. Boil them for this long, boil them for that long, shock them in ice water, don’t shock them, steam them, bake them.

But the truth is that a hard-boiled egg is just a hard-boiled egg, and how you get it doesn’t really matter. The method you land on through trial and error, custom, or circumstance is the “best” way to do it.

Now, just never ask someone the “best” way to peel a hard-boiled egg.

Sincerely,

Mr. Heimbuck

Dear Humans,

It doesn’t happen very often, but occasionally I’ll get the urge to iron something. I’m not very good at it (especially shirts) but it sure does feels good to use steam to accomplish something.

And if you’re even half-way decent at ironing, you can accomplish a lot. I like to iron handkerchiefs because they’re nice and square. When they come out of the dryer they are a wrinkled mess. But in minutes I have them hot, crisp, and folded in a nice, neat pile.

Most of life is not like ironing. We work and work and work and don’t always see the fruits of our labor. But we have to believe that we’re getting the wrinkles out–one day at a time.

Sincerely,

Mr. Heimbuck

Dear Humans,

I think I prefer children to adults because you guys have less experience to draw upon. Don’t get me wrong, experience is great. But often times adults (me too!) use our slivers of experience to make assumptions about the rest of the big wide world.

I had bad Chicken Tikka Masala one time, so all food from an entire subcontinent is terrible. My car was making a funny sound one time and it was the timing belt, so the problem with your car is most definitely the timing belt.

Experience can be a great teacher–as long as it doesn’t harden into prejudice. We are one out of seven billion, and the world is much bigger than our narrow experience of it.

Sincerely,

Mr. Heimbuck

Dear Humans,

I think I like math so much because it lets me be lazy and find shortcuts. You might think math is just furrowing your brow, following steps and ending up with a right answer and a hand cramp. Because, unfortunately, that’s often how we teach math.

But math is about making sense of a problem. If you learn how to do that, then you start to find all sorts of “shortcuts” and other ways of solving a problem.

And the dirty little secret is that looking for and discovering “shortcuts” is actually a lot more work than just following someone else’s rules. But it’s creative work, and it’s fun work, and it’s the kind of work that will reveal something magical about the world.

Sincerely,

Mr. Heimbuck

Dear Humans,

Working and schooling from home is hard! There are so many distractions. It’s as true for your parents and teachers as it is for you.

One of my daughters can only read with a cat on her lap. So she spends 10 minutes corralling the cat. Within two pages, the cat escapes and she has to chase it down again.

My other daughter is distracted by her own imagination. She’s hard at work on a math page and all of a sudden…the floor turns to lava and she must cross the room without touching it. And the math page just sits there.

It requires discipline. Set yourself a schedule and do as much as you can during that time. And once the time is done–even if not everything is completely finished–give in to the distractions.

Sincerely,

Mr. Heimbuck

Dear Humans,

Before snow covered them, I’d look out my back window and admire my neighbors’ tulips. When my neighbors planted them, I don’t think they did it for me. Maybe a part of them wanted their yard to look nice for their neighbors, but I think they mostly did it for themselves.

But the funny thing is that I might enjoy those tulips more than my neighbors do. Because when I look at them, I just get to enjoy them. When they look at them, they worry about the bunnies eating them or the frost getting them.

Even when we do things for ourselves, the rest of the world is watching. And, if we do things well, the world is admiring.

Sincerely,

Mr. Heimbuck

Dear Humans,

I ate a few chocolate bunnies this weekend. I prefer the hollow ones. I’ve heard people complain about biting the ear off a chocolate bunny and finding it hollow. But I’ve learned to appreciate the hollow bunny for what it is.

Sweetness comes best in small doses. All that chocolate in a solid hunk is just too much. No, give me that thin chocolate shell that breaks into those small perfect pieces. Plus, I quickly finish the hollow bunnies and don’t have to leave drooled upon chocolate laying around the house.

To really appreciate something, accept it for what it is. Find its strengths and don’t get lost wishing it was something it’s not. Appreciating people works exactly the same way.

Sincerely,

Mr. Heimbuck