For me, April 1st is usually among the worst days of the year. Of course, there's the obvious April Fools bafoonery, to the point where you almost can't trust anyone who says anything. The second thing is that last Friday was the final withdrawal date for classes.
Every year around this time, I feel overcome by a slight pinge of melancholy. It pains me to watch so many students "fail", having wasted their time in classes they cannot hope to pass with the marks they want. Most of them are intelligent, they just have too many other things going on. Some of them have bad teachers. Few of them don't really belong in the class.
I'm not looking for a bunch of shruffshire sheep who follow where I lead. I don't like rebels, but I feel like most of the 65 students I teach really want to do well in the class as preparation for their chosen career.
I don't know why I care. I'm not paying for it. The ones who don't want to be here probably aren't either. Either taxpayers or parents are footing the bill so they don't vest the effort. Even still, think of the time spent. Not that I believe in regrets; what they experience will shape them. What bothers me is that things could turn out differently for most of them.
My poor consolation is that they ask me if I'm teaching again in the Fall so they can take my class. I do what I can.
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