letters to my class

Dear Learners,

When I learn something new on the guitar, it sounds terrible. And sometimes I start thinking I’ll never master it. But if I keep at it, eventually it starts sounding like music–though many mistakes remain.

You have to be wrong a lot before you’re ever right. And then you’re going to keep being wrong for a while before you prove that being right wasn’t just a fluke. Anything worth doing is probably something you’re going to mess up the first few times you try it. So it’s wise to stay humble about whatever you’re trying.

But mistakes are our only teacher. Look for opportunities to make them and learn from them.

Sincerely,

Mr. Heimbuck

Dear Teachers,

I was looking in old yearbooks the other day, and I recognized many of you in preschool. (You were so cute.) That means some of you have been in the same class for years. And many of you will go to the same middle school and the same high school and walk across the same high school graduation stage. That’s 14 years spent together learning.

In that time, I hope you come to see one another as your best teachers. You have the opportunity to teach each other so much–both academically and socially. You’ll learn more from your peers than from your teachers, your parents, and your books. Make it count.

Sincerely,

Mr. Heimbuck

Dear Humans,

When we play Poison Dart Frog, we create a world separate from the real world. In the real world, you don’t have to pretend to die if someone sticks their tongue out at you. But in Poison Dart Frog world you do.

Play is important because it lets us turn reality into something we can grasp. When we play, we set up temporary rules about what means what. We ignore the complexities of the real world and create our own reality–at least for a while.

The big job in life is to create meaning in this big, complex, and uncaring world. Play lets us practice doing just that.

Sincerely,

Mr. Heimbuck

Dear Students,

I spend a lot of time, money, and energy making sure my Kentucky Bluegrass lawn looks good. But Poa pratensis is an invasive species. It snuck its way to the Americas as a stowaway on some ship. Some people might even consider it a weed. And yet I pour tens of thousands of gallons of water on it each year to make it grow, and then I cut it every week. The world is weird.

The world gets the way it is through infinite small circumstances like this. There is no plan and there is no way it’s supposed to be. Remember that when you imagine what you want the future to look like.

Sincerely,

Mr. Heimbuck

Dear Humans,

I had friends over to play a game this weekend, and I won! And I felt really good about it…for about a minute or two. And then I was just happy my friends were there.

It feels really good to be right…for about a minute or two. And then the feeling fades, and we’re left with the people around us. If we worry too much about being right, they just might not hang around.

And we all need other people. We can’t be sure what for and when, but everyone needs caring people in their lives. Living is too hard to do by ourselves.

Sincerely,

Mr. Heimbuck

Dear Humans,

In the morning I follow the same routine: coffee and notebook. Every day. Simple.

Because who knows what I’ll see when I look out the window. Some days it’s clear, some days it’s cloudy. Some days it’s windy, some days it’s calm. Some days it’s snow-covered, some days it’s bone-dry. I can’t control any of it.

And when I open the news app on my phone it gets even crazier. And messier. And more complex. And also outside of my control.

So I keep the things I can control as simple as possible. Then, maybe, I’m at least semi-prepared to face the complexities that I will face throughout the day.

Sincerely,

Mr. Heimbuck

Dear Students,

I hear the whispers: “Twenty more minutes until school’s out.” And I feel it too. But does that feel like the best way to use our time? Wishing it were past?

We all are bound by time. We have appointments and meetings, and things have to run on a schedule.

But living by the clock can make us ignore what’s in front of us. And my happiest moments are when I’m fully engaged with who and what is in front of me, and I forget about time. I wonder what life would be if I always lived that way?

Sincerely,

Mr. Heimbuck

Dear Humans,

My brother doesn’t sort his silverware when he unloads his dishwasher. He just dumps them into his drawer. Some people (probably our mother) can’t fathom this. To them, this is not only inefficient and untidy but morally wrong.

But I appreciate it (even if my wife won’t let me do it). There are lots of ways to live in this world, and the people who choose a way other than the well-worn path have a lot to teach us. We should appreciate those who refuse to stick to society’s norms and expectations, even if we choose to keep our own silverware well-organized.

Sincerely,

Mr. Heimbuck

Dear Humans,

Life is mostly doing things you’ve never done before–things you’re totally unprepared for: driving a car for the first time, raising children, burying loved ones. But you do them and you suffer through them and you learn something. And then you find that you might never have to do them again.

But you might have to do something similar, so finding the bigger lesson helps. Living with our eyes open, ready to learn whatever lessons life has to teach us, helps.

And having confidence helps. Everyone everywhere is unprepared for the living that life asks of them. But we do it. You can too.

Sincerely,

Mr. Heimbuck

Dear Writers,

I don’t care at all about competitive bass fishing. But yesterday morning I eagerly read an article about it. I was so into the article that I even watched a couple YouTube videos of people fishing. Can you imagine?

But that’s what good writing does–it makes us care about strange people and foreign worlds. And if you learn to do it well (and it’s something everyone can learn) you gain the power of holding people’s attention and making them care about what you do.

And in this world, where information is power, knowing how to use it well is the greatest superpower there is.

Sincerely,

Mr. Heimbuck