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Talking to Joyce just now about how many students are going to fail my class this semester, I realize I should feel worse than I do. I feel like I've failed, too, despite also believing that I've done some really good work this fall. It's frustrating and humiliating to acknowledge that "good" teaching doesn't necessarily translate into good learning, and it's hard for me to know where the process went wrong.

It would be nice if I could believe that I just got stuck with a bunch of lazy or stupid students this semester, but I don't believe that at all. I just feel spent, emptied out, defeated. Some days I don't know if I should care more or care less. After all, there are more important issues in the world than whether a student remembered to double-space the works-cited page. Somehow, though, I keep believing that education matters, and that my piss-ant effort might make a positive difference.

I think it's time to revisit my philosophy of teaching. Or to start from scratch on a new one.