letters to my class

Dear Humans,

When I’m folding laundry, the to-be folded pile is mountainous. Same with the pile of dirty dishes next to the sink. When I look at them, I just want to give up.

So I don’t. I reach over blindly for the next dirty dish or clean t-shirt, scrub it or fold it and triumphantly place it on the completed pile. And that’s where I focus instead: the strainer full of the dishes I’ve already washed or the neat stacks of already-folded laundry.

What’s to be done isn’t going anywhere. So there’s no reason to dwell on it. Rather, focus on what you’ve already accomplished and know that it will only continue to grow.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

I’m a big fan of flags. I fly one outside of my house. I collect them. I love to look at them, learn about them, and think about them. And I think I like them because they’re kind of a problem.

They’re a problem because they try to use a few simple colors and symbols to represent a nation’s identity–something that people have been battling over since the country’s start and will continue to after it’s gone. Like all symbols, they mean different things to different people, and we can’t always put that meaning into words. We just feel it in our guts.

And that’s the kind of problem that doesn’t have a solution; it can only be lived with.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

Each morning in the classroom, the first thing I do is plug in chromebooks. And it might be the best part of my day. Because when I’m doing it, I think it’s the most important thing in the world and only I can do it. 

In reality, if I forgot, it would probably be okay. And I could come up with a different system where all the chromebooks charge at once. But this is what I do instead.

We all have responsibilities throughout the day. And the best way to do them is the best we can. If we imagine nobody else in the world can do them as well as us, then a monotonous, boring chore turns into a sacred task. 

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

Yesterday we learned about the defeat of the Spanish Armada in 1588. That was a big deal–-a turning point in history. And it was a long time ago and it happened across the ocean to people who were a lot different from us. 

People often ask me, “How do you make history relevant to the students’ lives?” And I say, “I don’t.” Sure, I try to explain how past events led to the present. The languages we speak, the things we believe, the way we live.

But the real reason we learn history is so we might make our own lives relevant to history. That we might lead the kind of lives that show up in history books 435 years in the future.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

I work really hard to get the last bit of peanut butter out of the bottom of the jar. If the first dollop was as difficult to get out as that last smidge, I’d probably give up on the whole enterprise.

But there’s something about that last little dab. We’re willing to work for it, even if our hands get a little sticky.

It’s probably the same reason some of you like to write with the short nib of an over-sharpened pencil. You have to hold it uncomfortably by the ferrule, you write with painstaking slowness, and your handwriting is a mess, but there’s something joyful in the salvage.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

If something seems too good to be true, it probably is. We live in a time with lots of AI-generated images and videos and Beatles songs, and it’s easy to get tricked into believing something is real that isn’t really real. 

So you’re going to have to be on the lookout. There are some technical tricks for figuring out if an image is real, but the best test is the too good to be true test. If an image makes your side look all good and the other side look all bad, it’s probably fake. 

If it’s something you really, really want to be real, then you should probably give it a second look.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

When you’re growing up, you might think that the way you and your family do things is the normal way–the foods you eat at Thanksgiving, the way you prepare them, the words you say before you eat them, the volume of your television.

But there is no normal in this life–no set way it’s supposed to be. But you’ll only see the panoply of options that life gives us if you open your eyes to new sights, your ears to new sounds, your mouth to new flavors, and your mind to new ideas.

You might still prefer the way your grandmother makes her buttery mashed potatoes. And that’s fine. But there are lots of ways to prepare a potato.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

My favorite Thanksgiving activity is playing board games with my family. And though it’s fun to play (and even more fun to win), my favorite part is putting the game back in the box when it’s over.

In real life, things don’t often fit in their original boxes. They grow, change, and get messy. So it’s nice when all the pieces have their own baggies, the dice have their own little cutouts, and the board precisely folds and perfectly fits in the box.

Especially since you’ve just been immersed in an imaginary world where your every thought was focused on carrying out a winning (or losing) strategy. And then that whole world gets packed in a box, put on a shelf, and forgotten.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

It’s normal to look forward to the weekend. We all do. But then the weekend comes and there you are folding laundry or standing in the checkout line at the grocery store, wishing you were somewhere else.

People tell me I should practice mindfulness. When I’m in the checkout line, I should only be in the checkout line; when I’m folding laundry, I should only be folding laundry. 

Which sounds fine, but wishfulness is pretty great too. Humans live as much in our minds as we do in our bodies, and those minds can take us to far-off, wonderful places. Imaginary places that are almost always better than the real thing. 

It’s okay to spend some of our time there as well.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt

Dear Humans,

Don’t save seats. On the bus, in the cafeteria, at an assembly. I know we’re all creatures of habit and we tend to associate with the same people, but it’s dangerous to get too stuck in our ways.

Besides, an open seat is an opportunity. To meet someone new, to see the world from a new perspective. Don’t waste that opportunity for an old friend who’s already told you all the jokes they know. 

One of the most important things you learn in school is how to get along with new people. Because you’re going to spend the rest of your life working alongside them, sharing the road with them, creating your communities with them. And sometimes sitting next to them.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt