End of Term Blues

I remember how I would feel as a semester of college came to an end. The moment after the last final was filled with such a sweet sense of freedom. I remember yelling, "I'm Free!" while I jumped in my car to head home for the summer or Christmas. I'm 46 years old now, and I still haven't experienced a more intense feeling of relief and joy.

I never thought of how the teachers felt. I confess that when I was a student, professors seemed like robots. Information-laden, lecture giving robots. They seemed very secure in themselves and far above me intellectually and socially. One of the things I love about reading professor J. Schaap's blog, Stuff in the Basement, is that after all these years, I'm hearing it from the teacher's point of view. In one of his latest pieces, he describes the "End of Sememster" blues.

"I'm not sure why I've got it, but at least I'm old enough to recognize the syndrome: I feel like some kind of eighth-rate teacher right now, facing my last week of the semester. I remember hearing about some world-class prof somewhere, someone so good that on the last day of class, his students gave him a standing ovation. I'll be lucky to crawl out of the classroom without being dismembered.

Look, if the truth be known, many of my students don't care a whole lot anymore, and neither do I. If the truth be known, I just want it over. I'm tired of selling goods to customers who look at me as if I'm in their way. I'm tired of all kinds of things, and, Lord knows, those students are more than tired of me." Read More.