letters to my class

Dear Humans,

But when I look back at my life, I see my best days were full of waiting. Waiting in the pastor’s study at the church for my wedding to start. Waiting in the delivery room on the day my children were born. Waiting in line at Space Mountain.

Because waiting means you’re doing something important (and probably with important people). And if we remember that waiting is a part of the good stuff that’s coming, it’s not too bad at all.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

I love it when I walk out of the automatic doors of the grocery store, scan the parking lot, and immediately see my car. I make a beeline and start unloading my provisions.

But that only happens about half the time. The rest, I’m lost and wandering. Convinced I parked in one section, but not totally sure if that was this store trip or the last one. Finally I stumble upon it and think, “I parked here?”

We try to set goals in life and march towards them confidently, but life often feels more like the second scenario. Roaming around, looking for something, racked by uncertainty. And meanwhile, the Mint Chocolate Chip is melting in our cart.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

When I’m working with you on assignments, I notice that some of you are pencil-putter-downers. Between steps in a math problem, at the end of sentences, or between spelling words, you set your pencil down and take a breath. Others keep a tight grip on that yellow #2 for the entire math worksheet, the whole sudoku puzzle, or throughout the essay.

I’m in the second camp. And I’ve always thought it the best way to be–attacking, intense, and, perhaps, a bit hasty. But maybe there’s something to be said for setting down your pencil every once in a while. Perhaps the richest moments in life are in the pauses.

I’ll set down my pencil and give it a try.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

Yesterday we learned about Henry VIII and his six wives. Three Catherines, two Annes, and one Jane. It might not be super important that you know the names of Henry VIII’s six wives, but I do poorly on Jeopardy questions about those six ladies, and I wanted to learn more.

And it seems that any specific moment in history has a way of teaching us about all of history. Because it’s not just about the personal lives of seven people; it’s about the reformation, the rise of the individual, and the move away from the divine right of kings. It’s about how power works and how power is contested.

And those things are just as relevant in 2024 as they were in 1500s England.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

It takes a few seconds for my phone to connect to my car and it is very frustrating. Because I can’t even back out of my driveway until the music or podcast has begun.

But then I think about the first car I drove and what it took to listen to my Pearl Jam CDs. Flipping through a giant binder, popping one into a knockoff Discman, plugging a tape adapter from the headphone jack to the tape deck, flipping to the correct AUX source, and finally skipping to my preferred track.

Technology improves, but our expectations of it grow even faster, so it seems like nothing gets better at all. But it does.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

This week we’re taking standardized tests. I make sure the test ss fairly administered and give my pedometer a workout while pacing up and down the aisles. You show all that you know, keep a good attitude about it, and do your best.

And though the truth is that standardized test scores correlate with future educational and professional success, that’s only true for the average student. And in my 16 years of teaching, I’ve never once had that student in my class.

As individuals, our job is to do our best to defy the norm, buck the trend, and outdo the expected. And though the skills that a standardized test measures might help us do that, it takes a whole lot more as well.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

You’ve probably heard a lot about today’s eclipse. I’ve heard and read umbraphiles (that’s what you call eclipse chasers) rave about the life-changing experience of being in the path of totality. One person compared it to “traveling through space” because of the unique perspective it gives you of the heavens. 

But what really strikes me is how explainable and ordinary it really is. The Moon has orbited Earth every month for about four billion years. But every once in a while it lines up just right and in a specific place and time you experience pure magic.

And I think maybe that’s how magic always happens. Something easily explainable, and yet the human experience of it feels like so much more.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

The other day I was cutting pool noodles in half lengthwise to turn into roller coaster tracks for our science activity. And the first noodle I cut with my utility knife was the ugliest cut ever. Jagged and foam everywhere. A pure disaster.

So I changed the razor blade. And it made all the difference. The new blade cut through the foam like butter, and I finished the job in just a few minutes. 

Sometimes it’s as easy as putting in a new blade. But most things we do in life are not as simple and straightforward as cutting foam pool noodles in half. And most of our problems can’t be solved by simply changing our razor blades. 

But it’s still wise to keep our blades sharp. 

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

Yesterday afternoon I was driving west to stuff my face full of Taco Bell, and I noticed the mountains were about as clear as I’ve ever seen them. Even my teenage daughter, who might not notice if the sun exploded, said, “The mountains look bigger today.”

And they did. Bigger and clearer and closer. So that it felt like we were right next to them, even though we were over 75 miles away. 

And it’s nice every once in a while to look up from our Crunchwrap Supremes and see the wonder that surrounds us. And remember where we are, which might get us thinking about who we are, and before we finish that last bite of Crunchwrap Supreme we might just start thinking about why we are.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Geometers,

Yesterday we classified triangles and I was adamant that a triangle is never, ever a triangle just because it looks like a triangle; it’s a triangle because it has the properties of a triangle. 

Because a triangle is an idea more than a real thing. Sure, they may show up in the real world and they can be useful for explaining the real world, but when we’re in geometry class we live in the world of ideas. It’s a sandbox of perfection and order and rules and proofs. 

And the geometer’s sandbox is a fun place to play around, test things out, and exist in an alternate reality of ideas, far away from our real world of complexity and limits.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt