Isolation

One of my colleagues said to me the other day that it must be hard for me not having my lunch period or meetings with other teachers. Just the fact that she acknowledged that was important. I mean, I am not so into the faculty lounge thing which can really turn into gossip central, but her acknowledgment that I am isolated meant a lot to me.

And there are many I do like, wish I could call friends. Possibly because I work in an urban school, the teaching staff is much more cosmopolitan and diverse in background that most suburban schools. In the U.S., American teacher culture in my generation is one of utter mediocrity...mostly nice dull girls and bratty former cheerleaders. Not a big surprise we're behind the rest of the developed world. To me, suburban public elementary school teacher culture is halfway between satire and hell. Suburban American culture is much more foreign to me than going to a foreign country every was. I just can't swing it. It's not that I don't have friends in suburbia. Heck, I live in suburbia. On an individual level I'm okay. But in large numbers it melds into something else I can't relate to.

When I landed in an urban school I found it preferable; yes, the cliquiness was still there, the "average minds" I don't relate to, yes, unavoidable. But it is somewhat better than in a suburban school. People there come from many more cultures and backgrounds, and many of them share a dedication to working with urban kids that I admire. There are also more teachers who emigrated from other countries and believe me they are not the intellectual dregs. There are more African-American and Hispanic teachers who don't take their education for granted--even came later to the profession--because Mommy and Daddy didn't pay for college. Ah, give me my urban school over a suburban one any day.


That being said......

Socializing with my present colleagues is odd and difficult for me. Analysis:
--my social life is centered around my town's Jewish community
--I have only so much room in my heart and mind for more friends after all these years
--I have so many issues going on in my life I am mentally exhausted by anything there other than just doing my job.
--I am shy by nature and feel uncomfortable in groups of people. Even going to synagogue means surviving the first 15 minutes or so of social anxiety; I usually get over it but it's not easy. Same with parties. I love a good party but it takes me a bit to get into the swing of things. The last staff holiday party my husband immediately got drunk and I had to spend the whole time pretending everything was okay. So I'm not keen on this year's.
--And let us not forget my own childhood/school experience--it was not a good one.

Then there are the circumstances and nature of my job:
--The majority of the staff are classroom teachers and have duties and schedules which enable them to bond over what they do in common.
--What I do is very different, although some irrelevant stuff does get dumped on me, such as acrobatic lesson planning requirements (as if one can actually carry out a full lesson AND circulate books at the same time--silliness).
--Many of the classroom teachers, because they are so under the gun from the district and the state, tend to assume I do little in comparison all day. Not so, but they are so under pressure they don't see it.
--Scheduling--My lunch period is after all the others' are over. I'm not included in common planning and grade level meetings because I'm needed to teach classes so their teachers can attend them.

There's something about getting older that makes one sift through the many people who have passed through and consider Who Really Counts. Who One Relates To Best. And by the time I arrived on the scene of my new career five years ago, I had found the people in my life who fulfill those roles. My local community. My New York community. My friends from my Hungary years. Some from college and graduate school. It's enough. I may not see some of the most important ones often...some I have not seen in years, but they matter a great deal to me. Some, not many, know me because I've allowed them to. And everyone else becomes mere substitute.

So, now that I recognize the barriers, I am thinking where do I want to go with this? Am I okay with being sort of isolated at work? Does it matter? I mean, for all my griping I like my job and the kids and the books and the library keep me busy enough. Sometimes it matters and other times not. I remember another work situation where initially I felt very "out of it" and saw that change so much for the better that I can barely remember how I first felt. When I started working at Budapest Magazines Kiado in the mid-90s, I was one of three editorial staff, and the other three were all British and had known each other years, and were very tight. I remember thinking at the time I'd never be part of them. But a couple months later, without even thinking about it, I was, and two have been dear friends ever since. Last time I saw them I was pregnant; one at a New Year's party in Budapest; the other came to my wedding here. Anyway, the point is is that after a certain period of time I did become part of them.

The circumstances, too, were very different. I don't have the same freedom or desire to feel so bonded at my current job. Back then I was single and without parental responsibilities; work and social life entirely intermixed. I'm just not at that stage of life anymore. At one point a couple Facebooked me and I Facebooked a few; ultimately, however, I took them off my Friends list. Why? With some, I felt uncomfortable with the lack of privacy; with others, I didn't like having to constantly view their clique activities if I was not part of it.

And school teacher culture is cliquey and gossipy, even among the best--and good lord they ALL think they know how to be librarians....!!!!! Maybe that's why most of the staff I feel comfortable with are men; then don't tend to fall into those behaviors. With the exception of our tech man, who at best is indifferent and at worst condescending to us librarians, the men I work with don't act like they know how to be a librarian better than I do. If a teacher really, REALLY wants to get on my bad side, all they need to do is tell me what they think my job is. If I like the person, I smile and nod dumbly and tolerate it; if I don't, they get a fixed stare while I internally recite the Librarians Wield Incredible Power mantra until they shut up and go away. I don't expect to be worshipped, although my knowledge of literature and research methods is impressive, just respected.