My Failed Semester

I didn't make the grade with my do-it-yourself semester. But I still learned priceless lessons.

Photo by Ryan Graybill.

Well, that didn’t go as planned.

Back in early September I published a blog announcing my do-it-yourself semester. The idea was to capitalize on how much I miss going back to school in the fall. So, this year I decided to actually do something about it.

I identified four books I would read, a series of e-learning courses I would complete, and, just to mix things up, a television documentary I would watch.

I scheduled these learning activities across 15 weeks, beginning around Labor Day and running through mid-December, about the time finals week traditionally takes place.

It was a great antidote at the time, given that 2020 had been a tough year for everyone. And it was getting tougher by the day.

In my case, my semester was something I could be excited about as I looked ahead to a strange fall when I still wouldn’t be able to attend live sporting events, see family and friends, or frequent bars and restaurants.

If I couldn’t live the life I wanted to live in the present, I could at least try to recapture part of the life I had lived briefly—and loved—in the past.

For the most part, things started off well. I jumped into reading Mark Twain’s Life on the Mississippi, finishing the book almost two weeks ahead of schedule.

I zealously read selections from The Modern World, and in no time, it seemed, I was a quarter way through this challenging collection of excerpts from some of the great works.

I also got most of the way through a comprehensive project management course on Coursera, learning a lot of great stuff I can apply to future endeavors.

Then, well, things got harder. Clients and projects came calling, consuming my days and, more than occasionally, my nights, too.

I fell a week behind on my reading. Then two weeks. Then three.

I did sit down and watch the two-part Ken Burns' 2001 documentary on Mark Twain. But by the time the masked and hand-sanitized trick-or-treaters headed out to collect their Halloween candy, my well-planned schedule was pretty much shot.

I read the introductory chapter of The Model Thinker, the second book I planned to finish. I didn't crack the spine of the third, The Trivium. And, I never even got started on the LinkedIn Learning courses that would make me an Excel wiz.

If this had been an actual semester, my grades would have ended up being pretty atrocious.

So, no, I didn’t come close to learning what I had planned to this semester. But what did I learn?

Quite a lot, actually.

I learned that the great works were more accessible than I remembered.

As a high school student and undergraduate, I often faced what are considered the great works of western civilization with trepidation. About a page-and-a-half was all I could stomach of any long-revered work of literature or philosophy. At that point, my eyes would glaze over. I would grow bored. Or drowsy. Or both.

Now, revisiting some of those same texts this fall, from the likes of Plato and Aristotle, I found them to be much more readable than I remembered. I rack this change up to maturity and a growing acceptance of things that are somewhat dull.

There was also my increased ability to stay with experiences, including reading experiences, that require more time and effort to reveal their worth.

I especially enjoyed reading the selections from Seneca, the Stoic philosopher and statesman. Take for instance, this jewel from How to Achieve Serenity:

“Preserve a sense of proportion in your attitude to everything that pleases you, and make the most of them while they are at their best.”

I’ve never read better words to live by.

I was reminded what a great writer Mark Twain was.

When I tried to read The Adventures of Tom Sawyer back when I was in grade school, I just couldn’t get through it. It just seemed so old fashioned and far removed from the world I was living in—the now equally lost-to-the-ages 1970s.

But as an adult I discovered Twain’s non-fiction work, especially The Innocents Abroad, his exceptional travelogue of a trip he took to Europe and the Holy Land in the company of a group of American tourists.

Life on the Mississippi lacks the cohesiveness of that book, as the first part of it covers his formative years as a riverboat captain’s apprentice and the last part is dedicated to a trip he made back to the river years later to take stock of how it had changed. (Among the biggest changes was the demise of the riverboat industry after the rise of the railroads.)

Throughout the book, however, Twain writes with such pungent humor and a keen sense of observation that, save for the clothing and objects of the time that he mentions, he could just as easily have been describing people or scenes he was witnessing in the 21st century.

That made reading Life on the Mississippi especially enjoyable.

I came away with a deeper respect for those who simultaneously work and go to school.

As a younger man I enrolled in a part-time MBA program. Classes met Friday nights and all day Saturday for either three or five consecutive weekends. I didn’t stay in the program long, completing just three courses.

But I stayed in long enough to grasp how hard it is to both work full-time and go to school. I realized early on, much to my chagrin, that I had to do homework every single day in order to keep up.

I was a single guy who didn’t have family obligations. But if I had I would have been toast.

Yet, there are people who successfully juggle full-time jobs, families, and school. And for my money they are absolute superheroes.

This was reinforced during my abortive attempt to complete my homemade semester this fall. I just couldn't do it all.

I found out how much is too much.

As I planned out my fall semester, I had no idea how much I should try to bite off. How much would be too much?

The first few weeks, it appeared I had planned well. But when life got more complicated, and projects and unexpected family issues began eating away at the time I had initially been able to devote to reading, things went off the rails.

I still believe in the power of stretch goals, even when it comes to building a syllabus for myself. But next time, the stretch goals will be a little less “stretchy” and more attainable.

I realized I want to do this again!

And there will be a next time. When I published my blog in September, I heard from readers that my do-it-yourself semester was an experiment they both approved of and would like to emulate. I found this feedback heartening. And to those folks, I would say that I hope my failed experiment this fall doesn’t deter you, should you decide to create your own semester.

It certainly didn’t deter me. I’m resolving to try again next fall.

Why not get right back on the horse, you may ask, and give it another shot during the upcoming spring semester?

I can offer a couple of reasons. For one, even as a student, I never felt the same enthusiasm for going back to school after the holidays as I did at the conclusion of the summer. Also, while I didn’t accomplish everything I set out to do in the fall, I still need to step away and recharge a bit.

Plus, by not tackling a spring semester, I can use the coming months to finish what I started in the fall. I still want to read The Model Thinker and The Trivium. And I’m determined to make it all the way through The Modern World. And learn Excel once and for all.

But come next fall, I again plan to go back to school. I hope you’ll decide to join me.

As for now, though, I hope you’re enjoying your winter break!