letters to my class

Dear Humans,

We’ve talked about algorithms being human inventions, but the truth is that everything we learn about has been discovered by human minds and explained with human language.

And since each of us is human, we have both the ability to understand and the right to explore that precious vault of human knowledge–no matter who we are or where we come from.

Dear Humans,

When I go to the grocery store, I always get the cart with the bad wheel. Dozens of carts nestled together and waiting, and I pick the cart that buzzes, screeches, and takes all of my strength to wheel around the corner.

Or at least it seems that way. What really happens is that I only remember the times when I have  the bad wheel. When I’m rolling smooth on all four wheels–which is most shopping trips–I just don’t think about it.

So now I’m trying to appreciate the mundane moments when things go well–when my car starts right up, when my commute is quick, and when my shopping cart rolls smoothly.

Sincerely,

Mr. Heimbuck

Dear Humans,

At my grandma’s funeral last month, nobody talked about what kind of grades she got in 5th grade. And nobody talked much about what a great employee she was or how clean she kept her kitchen or how popular she was.

Maybe it was because she outlived most of the people who had that kind of dirt on her.

Instead, people talked about how she lived her life with style and boldness. They talked about the things she did that made her the one and only person who ever has and ever will be like her.

There’s a lot in life that makes us the same. But what matters is what makes us unique. And that is completely up to us.

Sincerely,

Mr. Heimbuck

Dear Humans,

Without language, the world wouldn’t make much sense. But often times (especially when you’re a kid), words can be confusing.

When I was a kid, the news bombarded me with words, names, and places that I didn’t even half-understand: Watergate and Whitewater, Mogadishu and Montenegro, Tienanmen Square and the Berlin Wall.

You’re probably in the same boat (but with way more news sources than just Tom Brokaw), confused about Quds and Kurds, Iran and Iraq, and Burisma and Butina.

Well, it doesn’t get any easier. But looking for the big picture helps. If you think of reality as a giant jigsaw puzzle (with lots of different pictures) and each of these words as a piece, then you can start to snap them into place.

Sincerely,

Mr. Heimbuck

Dear Humans,

One time I was riding in a car with someone, and they let slip that they’d been in six car accidents, but “none of them were [their] fault.” At the next stop sign I went ahead and got out of the car and walked to my destination.

Sure, bad things can happen. But a lot of living (and most of driving) is taking the responsibility to avoid “accidents.”

So if you come in from recess after “accidentally” hurting someone, I’m not going to be very sympathetic. I’ll probably ask you what exactly you were doing that led to the “accident.”

Sincerely,

Mr. Heimbuck

Dear Readers,

I hope you all had a great weekend. I wasted a lot of mine reading a 900-page history of Texas. (I didn’t read it all.) Which is weird because the only time I’ve spent in Texas is an hour and a half layover at the Dallas-Fort Worth airport in the mid-90s.

There are lots of other things I could’ve been doing: reading up on investment strategies, working out, organizing my sock drawer.

But I’m happy with how I spent my time. I might never need to know the details of the 1948 Texas Democratic Senate primary, and my sock drawer is still a mess, but anytime I learn something new, I feel a little more ready for living.

Sincerely,

Mr. Heimbuck

Dear Humans,

I was in the grocery checkout line the other day and I noticed the coconut water refrigerator had a video screen on the door. It showed a constant video of people living their best lives because they drank coconut water.

Now, I’ve had coconut water before, and that stuff is nasty. And the fact that they sell it in the checkout line, and that they have to show a high-production video to entice people to open the fridge door and grab a carton, further convinces me that it is not for me.

We live in a world of distracting and misleading appearances; don’t fall for it.

Sincerely,

Mr. Heimbuck

Dear Readers,

I read a few books over winter break. I like reading about the history of the American West, and I slowly meandered my way through a couple of those books while enjoying a warm spot on the couch and a hot cup of tea.

But on Christmas morning I did an entirely different type of reading: I read those tiny, multi-lingual manuals of how to make all the new toys and gadgets work. And I did it all while my children badgered me to get the things to work.

I don’t think I would have been ready to do all of this high-stakes Christmas morning reading if I hadn’t done a bunch of low-stakes reading for pleasure throughout my life.

Sincerely,

Mr. Heimbuck

Dear Stonemovers,

I often wonder what the builders of Stonehenge were thinking. They risked life and limb to move 25 ton stones over 20 miles (without wheels) just to stand them upright in a circle.

And for what? A calendar? A burial ground? Whatever it was, it was a structure that they would probably never see completed in their lifetimes.

So they must have had some powerful reason to believe that all of their effort was worthwhile.

We spend most of our 21st century days moving giant stones into structures that we will never see completed. So we too must have faith that what we’re doing is worthwhile.

Sincerely,

Mr. Heimbuck

Dear Humans,

I hate shopping for toilet paper. There are so many variations–roll size, ply, number of rolls in a package, softness. And the unit price is in tiny type and toilet paper is on the bottom shelf, so I’d have to lay down on the floor of King Soopers to read it.

But I have a secret. I look for the largest difference between the regular price and the sale price. And I snatch that up. Because I don’t just want the cheapest toilet paper. (I did that once and my family hated me for a month and a half.) I want the best value.

If you know how to find value in a thing–no matter what that thing is–you’ll find success.

Sincerely,

Mr. Heimbuck