ABSTRACT
On my very worst days, I wonder if I have learned anything about teaching. I amaze myself at the quantity and quality of classroom mistakes I am capable of making, even after 20 years. I have always found teaching to be a tough profession, full of an ambiguity of results that is truly maddening. But just as a parent loves a bad child, I’ve always loved teaching. It is so interesting, so difficult, and so new every semester and every class. On my better days, I can see what I have accomplished, and I do not need test scores to lift my spirits. I feel the ambience of a good class; I see it in the eyes of my students. I hear the hum of a finely tuned machine. On my good days, I feel I have made an occupation as difficult as tightrope walking seem as effortless as breathing.
