The Urban Commuter Campus where I earn my livelihood, as seems to be the standard these days in the States, has a main academic year consisting of two fifteen-week semesters. In the summer, they then offer courses on either a ten- or a five-week basis.
I have decided, after long and careful consideration, that this is the Wrong Thing. Fifteen weeks is too long.
As a Canadian undergraduate, I had twelve-week terms. That was much nicer, because the term didn’t really have a chance to drag. Right at that point when you’re about to get terminally bored with your courseload, suddenly it’s time for exams and you’d damn well better get interested again. I sort of liked the year I spent on a quarter system Down South — at least, I preferred it to the semester system that then superseded it — although that necessitated a whole lot of five-day-a-week classes, which isn’t always great either.
Anyhow, so that’s my Three Bears Moment for this month: Semesters are too long. Quarters are too short. Terms are just right. Now where’s my porridge?