And so my last semester begins. I am retiring at the end of the term, after over forty-two years in the classroom, all but a year and half at the university of Maryland. Yes, I have mixed feelings, but mostly I am looking forward to my next chapter, which I hope involves more writing and fewer citations, more teaching and less grading, and more community and collaboration but fewer formal meetings.
I want to take this semester slowly and savor it. I want to compare it with my beginnings (which I reflected on obsessively in my written journals long ago). The “slow" part has taken care of itself — a case of bronchitis turned into pneumonia a few days ago, so I am under doctor’s orders to take it easy for the next several weeks. That should give me time to think, and the physical demands of writing are light. I will take the diagnosis as a gift, and settle in.
More to come.
I want to take this semester slowly and savor it. I want to compare it with my beginnings (which I reflected on obsessively in my written journals long ago). The “slow" part has taken care of itself — a case of bronchitis turned into pneumonia a few days ago, so I am under doctor’s orders to take it easy for the next several weeks. That should give me time to think, and the physical demands of writing are light. I will take the diagnosis as a gift, and settle in.
More to come.
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