The Last First Day

I’ve been a college professor for twenty-eight years. That sounds like a long time (and it is) but it sounds even longer if I say 56 semesters.

I’ve had 56 first days. Fifty-six times I’ve adjusted to a new schedule, new classes, new students, new colleagues, new textbooks. (I’m blogging about my last year of teaching at Goodbye, Day Job!)

The first day of the semester is always exciting and a little scary. Will my students be eager and curious and hard-working? Will there be one student—sometimes two, never more, in my experience—who will make me wish for a nice, long case of mono, nothing fatal, but something that will keep that student out of my class for a while to give me a break? Will my assignments get them excited, or will they be frustrated/bored/indifferent?

Last Monday was my last first day of the semester, and the last time I’ll face those questions. I’m retiring from teaching in May so I can devote myself to writing, traveling, and the ever-more-time-consuming activity of book promotion.

I’m hoping I’ll write more and promote more effectively, but I’m riddled with doubts. It’s scary and exciting, all at the same time.

I wonder how I’ll feel next fall when all my colleagues and former students are having their own first day and I won’t. I hope I’ll be so busy I won’t even notice it, that I won’t feel a pang of regret that they will be having those scary and exciting first days while I’m sitting in my home office.

I’ll let you know!