I have taught at a small liberal arts college for 25 years. That’s quite a few fall semesters.
There is much I love about the start of a new academic year. The heat of the summer begins to give way ever so tentatively to the delectable perfection of autumn. The fresh faces of the first-year students, still—for a moment, at least—perfectly pristine, unjaded, and eager to take on new ideas. Even the courses I have taught countless times seem fresher after three months away from them.
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