Often at the end of semesters, I've noticed that I become depressed. It used to be particularly pronounced when I was a student. I had believe that, as a faculty member, the effect seemed to be less. Now, looking back at last fall and this fall, I find that I believe that the experience has to do more with the ending of classes and it affects me as much as a teacher as it did when I was a student. Classes begin with such promise, and promises to myself: promises that I'll apply myself and accomplish amazing things. At the end of the semester, I have a hard time not focusing on what I failed to accomplish rather than the positive things that did happen. I think the semester went pretty well, but I can't help feeling that I could have done many things better.
I attended Lucy's Esperanto group this afternoon. I've been thinking that next semester, I should make a real effort to establish a local Esperanto group. Ever since I read
Peter Jameson's Secret Language, I believed in the idea that "something worth doing, is worth doing badly." With some things, I haven't felt that way though. Since I arrived in Amherst, I haven't been willing to make even a bad effort to create an Esperanto group -- for several reasons. First, because I think that a bad effort would potentially undermine even good subsequent efforts. Second, because since I've lived here, I've been unwilling to compromise on either my family or work obligations. My children are now enough older and my colleagues enough familiar with my various manias, that I feel more confident that I can invest the time and effort necessary to pull it off.