This year, I will not get my hopes up.
This year, I will not recall how I behaved as an undergrad and expect all my students to be exactly the same. I will recall that I had idiot classmates, and that their failing performance is what helped me achieve an A.
This year, when they plagiarize, I will not take it personally. That is to say, I won't assume their plagiarism is a dig at me, or an assumption that I wouldn't notice, but a desperate effort from kids who are in over their heads.
This year, I will realize that many of my students are only in class because of dreams cast by their parents. That they need to be drawn in because they are not there of their own accord. That they are amassing debt beyond belief for tiny ideas, and that I should try to make the most out of these unique 4 or 5 years.
This year, I will remember that there are infinite realities. And that my reality is not the only universe, nor is it the best version of the world, and that my reality must be taken in conjunction with the realities of the department secretary, my Dean, my colleagues, and my snowflake students. When I am incredulous at the lying liarsons, I will float into another universe where everything goes my way.
This year, I will eat breakfast every morning. I will work out four times a week. And I will stop working at 8 pm, so as to give me time to relax before before bed. I will volunteer on Saturdays. I will lend a hand to my neighbors and their screaming baby. I will remember to call my far-flung family. I will pay my taxes on time.
This year, I will incorporate interesting online videos to my lecture and accessible projects to my discussion. I will recast my syllabi. I will offer brand new activities. I will give second chances. I will be the best at everything.
This year, I will mock my ridiculous resolutions for 3 weeks, at which point each resolution will become a call for a bourbon-based cocktail.
Happy New Year!