Thursday, December 07, 2023

Staff Inflection

 There was a time when all of our teachers here at my school were of a certain age. At that time, I was still considered something of "an elder," since I came to work here after a spate of jobs that turned out not to be a career. At first, I was definitely a rookie, not just in age but in my capacities. As I was to become familiar, many schools in urban areas experience more than their share of turnover. Burnout is a factor that all of us face at some point. 

But way back when, in what I will refer to as "The Silver Age" of my time at Horace Mann, when that first wave of new hires with whom I came in became the veterans. And a new crew came in and took the place of the frazzled group that left with the back of their heads still smoking. This was the fresh-faced roster that was eager to face the challenges of inner-city education with dedication and enthusiasm. 

Which they did.

And they brought with them a bushel of youthful invigoration that made me feel like the old man. These folks worked hard. And, not by coincidence, they played hard. When Friday came, and the windows were closed and the doors were locked, it was quite often time to go out and celebrate another week's victories and wallow in the defeats. I recognized the "it's five o'clock somewhere" mentality from a previous incarnation of my own some years past. The most impressive thing was how Mondays would come and the rigors of recreation would be shaken off and they would return to the modern professional model to which we had all become accustomed. Bloodshot eyes notwithstanding. 

Like all waves of fresh faces, they began to drift away, replaced by a new lineup, still dedicated but now more inclined to leave the party earlier, leaving more time for recuperation. These were the folks who came to the job with other schools in their past, other principals, other colleagues. Now they are of a certain age that falls more in a line with my own experience. I have watched fellow teachers take off for paternity leave. Some come back. Some don't. There are also those whose bodies are wearing out and the strain of being on point for an elementary classroom is taking its toll. Where the old crew used to bounce back with their headaches and hangovers, this is the group that requires more bed rest and extended medical attention. That strong line has breaks in it. 

So we fill in and make do. But there are times when I miss that group of hard-drinking party animals who used to show up every day, with a pocketful of Advil and a determination to make it through another day. 

1 comment:

  1. I hadn't considered how a roaring hangover might interact with a room full of rowdy third graders. Yowza.

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