letters to my class

Dear Students,

I woke up early this morning to look at Cyber Monday deals. There were all these shiny, new, and cheap devices that I was convinced would change my life for the better. But they won’t. I know this, but I still forget it when I see something new and feel that want in my belly.

It’s nice to have things, and tools can definitely help us do the things we want to do. But they can’t help us be the people we want to be. That can only come from inside of ourselves.  And there’s no Cyber Monday deal for that.

Sincerely,

Mr. Heimbuck

Dear Students,

When I lived in an old house with old wiring and old pipes, I’d often call repairmen to fix things. They’d come out and give me this look of exasperation that said, “There’s not a good fix to this problem, but I think we might be able to figure something out.” And we’d patch something together to get the water and electricity in and the waste out.

The world is patched together like an old house. Most of its problems can’t be fixed. We live with them and do what we can to make them better and keep the world spinning.

Sincerely,

Mr. Heimbuck

Dear Students,

When you’re a kid, it’s easy to think that the world is small–that it’s just the people and places around you. And sometimes when you’re a kid, you might feel like you don’t belong in that world.

But if learning teaches us one thing, it teaches us this: the world is much bigger than we think it is. And if we explore it, we see it has a place for everyone.

So keep doing the things that make you special, even if the people in the small part of the world around you think it’s weird. Because the bigger world has a place for you.

Sincerely,

Mr. Heimbuck

Dear Humans,

Yesterday, I was having kind of a bummer day. I’d woken up too early and could have really used another cup of coffee, some lessons hadn’t gone as well as I would have liked, and I started having doubts about how good I was at teaching.

Then, one of you put a pink sticky note on my desk that said, “Thank you for being a great teacher.” And that changed everything.

As humans with words and a voice, you have great power in this world. You can completely change someone’s day (and maybe even their life) with the simple words that fit on a small, pink sticky note.

Do it today.

Sincerely,

Mr. Heimbuck

Dear Learners,

When I screwed up that potato and egg skillet the other morning (dry, sad potatoes; overcooked eggs; the flavor and texture of cardboard), I wasn’t too happy. I thought, “Man, I’m a bad cook.” But then I bought donuts at the store, reflected on what went wrong, and thought about what I could try next time.

If I would have made something delicious (or even edible), I wouldn’t have changed anything. I would have just kept making it exactly the same way. Mistakes, however, make us reflect. Mistakes teach us.

So when you make a mistake, apologize, try to fix it, and then carry that mistake with you as your best teacher.

Sincerely,

Mr. Heimbuck

Dear Classmates,

Remember last week when we played hockey outside and everyone was freezing? You guys were so cold, it was all you could think about. You couldn’t even line up correctly. You definitely couldn’t play hockey.

When we’re worried about our safety or comfort, it’s almost impossible to focus on anything else. So when we’re in our classroom, we have to make sure everyone feels safe, feels included, and feels comfortable. Then, we’re all ready to learn.

We’ll have disagreements, and we’ll have problems. That’s normal. And those are chances to learn something new. But we always have to make sure that everyone feels at home.

Sincerely,

Mr. Heimbuck

Dear Students,

Most of life is improvisational. You figure it out on the spot. Life doesn’t give you a study guide or tell you when the test is going to be. All you have is what you’ve stored up inside yourself.

So when you learn something new, make sure it becomes a part of who you are. Don’t just store new knowledge in your brain–you’ve got to put it in your heart and in your soul.

Because when challenges come, who you are–the combination of all you’ve learned and done–is all you’ve got.

Sincerely,

Mr. Heimbuck

Dear Writers,

When I was writing papers in college I always imagined I was writing for the world, not just for a grade. I really believed that my words mattered and could change the world. This made me very, very happy. And I think it made some of my professors very, very happy as well. Other professors gave me poor grades. (I didn’t take any more classes from them.)

I still believe words can change the world. I believe this anytime I write anything. If my grocery list flies out of my cart and someone picks it up in the King Soopers parking lot, I want it to blow their mind. I want it to rearrange how they view the world.

Your words matter. Every time you write something, expect it to shake the world.

Sincerely,

Mr. Heimbuck

Dear Humans,

Today is election day. Every two years we vote for new representatives and all sorts of other stuff.

But many people don’t vote. I don’t think it’s because they’re lazy, though. I think it’s because they’re scared–scared they don’t know enough about politics and scared they’ll make a foolish decision.

But politics is just the process to figure out how to live together. And everyone should have a vision for that. Nobody’s vision is perfect or right or complete; everyone is still figuring it out. (Although many people won’t admit this.) But while we’re figuring it out, we still have to pull that lever. We still have to have our say.

Sincerely,

Mr. Heimbuck

Dear Humans,

Sometimes when I’m drinking homemade coffee, I’m wishing I were sipping on an espresso from some hip coffee shop. If only, I think, I lived in a cooler neighborhood. Sometimes when I’m sitting in my own way too big, comfortable house, I’m scrolling through real estate ads for other houses. If only, I think, I had a three-car garage.

One choice you’ll have to make many times a day is whether or not you’re content. Is what you have good enough or do you wish you had something different?

It’s nice to have dreams. But when they distract us from enjoying what we have and who we’re with, they can be nightmares.

Sincerely,

Mr. Heimbuck