The fact narrated must correspond to something in me to be credible or intelligible. We as we read must become Greeks, Romans, Turks, priest and king, martyr and executioner, must fasten these images to some reality in our secret experience, or we shall learn nothing rightly.
–Ralph Waldo Emerson, “History”
The autumn term is always the longest term: that long drag from the wan sunlight of September to the bleak darkness of December. This is the term that tests both the mettle and the soul of a teacher. At the end of it, many of us have cause to echo the gloom of Francisco’s lines from Hamlet — “’tis bitter cold, and I am sick at heart.”
But even when it seems like it’s all over, it’s still not over.
The heavy hand of collective-responsibility roulette has tapped me on the shoulder. It’s my turn to write the scheme of…
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