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Note #161: The fulcrum (2026.3.8)

Last week marked the first week of the new semester, a semester that seemed to creep up on me and take me by surprise. This is probably due to how busy I was with the online classes I had to record; no sooner had I finished that than I had to start thinking about the spring semester.

I have one undergrad class and one graduate seminar this semester, and so far student numbers seem to be fairly typical. Last I checked, I had slightly fewer undergrads than usual, but who knows what the final numbers will be by the end of tomorrow, when the one-week period during which students can shuffle class registrations ends. It always feels a little slow at the start, but I’m sure I’ll get into the swing of things soon enough.

I’ve been feeling a little down for the past few days, though, and I’ve been telling myself that this is because I wasn’t mentally prepared for the semester. I’m sure that has something to do with it. But a big part of it is a realization I had during our beginning-of-the-semester department meeting last week. I was looking at the table that shows when all the professors in the department are going on sabbatical (something that requires arcane calculations to figure out). Each row shows how long each professor has left before mandatory retirement, and I looked at my row and saw that my last semester would be spring semester of 2038. I already knew this, of course, as it is a matter of simple math. But as I did some more math, I had my realization. I started teaching here in the spring of 2014, which means that last year marked my twelfth year. And when next semester starts, I will have twelve years left. In other words, this semester marks the midway point of my time here—the fulcrum of my career, if you will.

I’m going to be honest: This threw me for a bit of a loop. Like I said, it wasn’t something I didn’t know, but to be reminded that I’m halfway through was a bit shocking. I can still remember very clearly what it was like to start teaching here; it doesn’t seem like it was that long ago. In fact, it’s kind of scary how quickly the past twelve years has flown by. Where did the time go? Have I done everything I wanted to do in that time? More importantly: Will I really be able to get everything that I still want to do done in the twelve years I have left? Well, that’s a trick question. Of course I won’t get to everything I want to do; I’ve already come to terms with that, or at least tried to. Still, I didn’t enjoy being reminded of how fleeting life is.

And I don’t think I really want to dwell on it now. I wanted to write this as a way of exorcising the demon that has been plaguing me, but such demons are not so easily driven out. Perhaps it is best to just move on and focus on the semester ahead. Here’s hoping it’s a productive one.