Being senior in anything does not relieve you of responsibility for all of the skills of that endeavor, basic or advanced. In fact, by virtue of how long you’ve been at that endeavor, you are expected to be the best at it. This applies in every undertaking I’ve ever been involved in.[1] Consequently, life does not have much in the way of “resting on your laurels.”
Thus:
A senior
pastor must bring their[2]
most powerful, most reflective or most
inspiring message to their homilies every time.
A senior
paramedic must be able to start the IV in the sickest patient with collapsed
veins, and they are expected to be on call for every arrest in the most remote
and dangerous locations. They are also
expected to know, cold, all of the arrest protocols.
The
charge nurse in a hospital unit must be equal to or better than the rest in all
patient care skills, even when they do not normally do much hands-on patient
care. (A dear friend who died way too
soon was the senior charge nurse at an intensive care unit. She motored around on a cart in her final
days, and she was perfect and meticulous in her patient care.)
A senior
woodcrafter’s joints must be perfect.
A
senior lawyer must continue to supply the most compelling argument on behalf of
their client.
In
other words, by their performance every day, to remain powerful and relevant,
their performance alone must make others ignore their canes (Check!), stroke-induced
speech impediments (Check!), the grey/white hair (Check! A trifecta!) and other
reminders of their senior status.
This
applies to:
Those
who write for a living, for fun or (more importantly) as a passionate
life-style.
Those
who personally counsel the troubled.
All
artists in all mediums.[3]
Musicians,
instrumental, singing or both.
Cooks.
Those
who drive frequently.
Well,
heck, it applies to everything you do when you leave your bedroom in the
morning. Seniority gives you expectations,
not rewards.
That
may be sad. But I think it’s true.
[1] In
writing, it applies to things like grammar, e.g., not ending a sentence with a
preposition such as I just did. However,
give me a break: I didn’t know what else
to end it with.
[2]
Another grammar note: English has no
good or common gender-neutral reference. “His or her” sounds contrived and artificial. So I use the plural, in the hope that someone
considerably smarter than I am will come up with a suitable replacement. The same thing applies to “brother and sisters,”
although I still use that in reference to the many who I do consider to be my brother
or my sister, but I still have hopes in someone finding an equally
sibling-esque substitute, without using “sibling,” which is equally
contrived. The long and hard-to-diagram
sentences are, however, entirely my fault and my failing. If it offends you, let me know and I’ll
jump. (Only from the first floor window,
I’m really not THAT bothered.)
[3]
Media? Hmmm.
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