Spring?
Here is my first letter of the semester to the students I just met this week:
Dear Students,
And so the new semester begins. Spring semesters are always more difficult than fall semesters—at least in my experience. Face it: it’s not spring. It is decidedly, undeniably winter. It’s dark in the mornings. Who wants to get up? It’s really cold out there. The cars cough and yawn right along with us. The streets are icy, and the snow makes them narrow. No wonder certain species hibernate. It makes perfect sense. But we humans plod along through these winter months, bundled up, shivering, shuffling on slick sidewalks.
Whose idea was it to call it spring semester? Really, it gives false hope. Lilacs and daffodils are months away. January, February, March—those are long, desolate months. And here we are, adjusting to new schedules, new peers, new teachers—mostly just wanting to go back to bed and sleep until April.
Am I right?
Okay—winter does have its moments—snow can be beautiful. It can be fun to ski and sled. A fireplace and a blanket and a cup of hot chocolate—a comforting image, yes? But let’s be realistic. This is not spring semester 2008. Call it “wishing for spring semester“—that would be more accurate.
Second semesters are hard for students, I think—especially first year students. You have lost a certain amount of innocence that you had when you began. Second semester forces you to make some choices: will you do it exactly as you did it before? Are there habits you need to change? The newness of fall semester has worn off, and the excitement and momentum of the new academic year has given way to been there, done that attitudes. Finally, it doesn’t help that fall semester begins with beautiful, easy weather. Second semester begins with difficult weather. It’s hard on the psyche.
Really, I am happy to meet all of you and eager to see how the semester progresses. If we put our hearts and minds to it, we can overcome the winter blahs and take on the challenges before us. I love teaching, and I truly enjoy spending time with students. You keep me on my toes—you make me think—you even make me laugh. Occasionally, you make me cry.
As I said on our first day—we are forming a community, and within any community, individuals have responsibilities to each other. Please, please—take those responsibilities seriously—we owe it to each other to make this experience worth our time and effort—an experience to look back on and say, “That was a great class.” We can make that memory happen.
For your first writing exercise, I asked you to recall a moment. We have lots of moments before us as we move through these dark days toward the light of spring. All those crocus, daffodil, and tulip bulbs are down there in the dark ground waiting to push through the dirt. All that learning is there, too—inside each of you, waiting and ready to push through.
All good thoughts for a new semester together,
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