The first day of a new semester makes me happier than any other day during the year. Meeting five new sets of students. Fumbling names. Sweaty shirt. Bad jokes. Nerves. Hope. I usually forget how much of an impression they all make on me these first days until I look at them again somewhere toward the end of the semester and can see how much progress they’ve made. I don’t care what anyone says, getting up in front of people and talking, speaking clearly and articulately and intelligently is fucking terrifying for a lot of people, particularly a population of students that may have not been given a lot of encouragement over the years. Finding a voice is a process and it’s scary and hard. Being a part of that process with my students over and over again every semester is a wonderful thing.