NOTE FROM PG: I began this post as a Comment on a wonderful post by Kirsten Lindberg of The Hewitt School (NY) on the National Association of Independent Schools Independent Ideas blog today. As happens sometimes, the thoughts just kept flowing, and what I had was far too long for that. So.
I spent a mere 38 years at Beaver Country Day School (MA), the last few of those kind of off and on as other responsibilities grew and retirement beckoned. But one of the highlights of my life there was the winter and spring of 2021, when I filled in—all remote—for an old colleague on sabbatical.
What I found sustaining in my last couple of decades—aside from having three of my own kids passing through—was finding ways to participate in the larger community of independent schools through professional organizations and even some “consulting,” a word I resisted using myself. I love visiting schools, meeting other educators, and learning about and sharing ideas about programs, policies, and practices. If by sharing I could help, yay, but I learned and believe firmly that schools and the people in them already have the power and creativity to make change for the better, even if they sometimes need a boost to their confidence. Ideas from “new blood” may often spark new initiatives, but they won’t succeed until the long-tenure folks understand and accept them.
My father put in 40-some years at his school, although his father had founded the place and as heir-apparent to the head’s office, Pop probably didn’t feel as though he had a lot of choice. He was proud of the stamp he put on the place, but at his memorial event we, his children, were all struck by the testimonials to his influence on students that we heard about, sometimes very privately, as we wandered the room. I knew by then, 30 years into my time at Beaver, that the true gifts of long tenure are the relationships with students, their families, and then in time often their own children.
Yes, in my time at Beaver I went through times of looking, getting to a few interviews, some of which would have meant professional advancement. But in just about every case (yeah, I got dinged a couple of times; both times I felt almost instantly grateful) I realized that in Beaver I had a personal values match that couldn’t be beat.
And back to those “long-tenure” folks and new initiatives: Schools need to make sure they are treating these educators with respect but never ceasing to stimulate them with professional learning, to find new opportunities that tap (and not dismiss) their experience, and to keep expectations high. Allowing senior faculty to hunker down in their own fiefdoms, safe from new ideas and active community participation behind moats often dug and flooded by the school out of fear but masked as veneration, is tantamount to just putting them out to pasture, with the added humiliations of low expectations and even social isolation from the newer faculty with whom they might interact, mentor, and make friends. A school that allows this to happen will pay for this moral lapse by getting stuck, hard, in its own rut, paying a price in progress that will play out in myriad ways, to the ultimate detriment of its reputation and, more critically, its students’ lives and learning. A school could even look for ways to help senior faculty build connections in the world of schools where they might do some valuable sharing and learning.
Schools must step up, for sure, but educators need to take a deep breath and reflect for themselves. Quiet quitting, bolting for the next shiny place or title that’ll impress the relatives at Thanksgiving, or jumping into early retirement may be about walking away from relationships that will truly sustain you—if you let them. All you have to do is be open to allowing them to develop, even over time (and those are the best!).
It’s about the people, people. All of them. Old and young, new-ish and veteran.