There are “firsts” and then there are “FIRSTS,” if you get my drift.
“FIRSTS” used to be such rare and obvious-to-a-blind-man events that our vegetable-in-chief, during even a less lucid moment, could automatically deem one a BFD (Big Effin’ Deal) without prompting or notecard.
Unfortunately for us, today’s “firsts” (always lower case) don’t carry that special cachet, that aura of legend surrounding the bearer for all time. “Firsts” have become…
“Yeah, yeah, that’s nice. Was that venti caramel macchiato with vanilla soy milk iced or hot? We’ve got a line, lady.“
…simply because everyone’s looking for the label to slap on something, anything, or anyone.
“FIRST” used to be almost organic in nature. They occurred by dint of someone’s hard work, dogged determination, maybe luck of the draw. Invariably, some daunting challenge was overcome and celebrated.
FIRST TO THE NORTH POLE – FIRST ENGLISHMAN TO CONQUER EVEREST – FIRST IN FLIGHT – FIRST MAN ON THE MOON – FIRST WOMAN IN SPACE
It was hard.
Myriad entities these days are guilty of playing that “first” card. They’ll virtue signal alleged “firsts” proudly to the world as quickly as they can, one-upping competitors, scoring ESG points, and earn their Woke Badges, but let’s face it – the firsts aren’t exactly Everest.
First openly gay mayor – America’s first all-LGBTQ city council – First openly transgender Black woman elected to public office
Even if upon reflection, what the company or government is yodeling about as a “first” makes little sense. Like they’re trying too hard.
In some cases, the announcement of a “first” might be a “Squirrel!” to distract from other problems or a run of bad press the organization’s been experiencing.
Take our Navy, for instance. In all honesty, it hasn’t been a great year so far, has it? From canning their avant-garde drag-queen recruiter to tanking retention numbers for junior surface warfare officers…
High stress, overwhelming administrative requirements and a “toxic culture,” among other factors, are discouraging junior surface warfare officers from aspiring to command, according to the results of a Navy survey released this month.
Just 44% of the junior officers polled were interested in serving as a commander. They also cited too much time away from home and a “lack of control,” Naval Surface Forces said June 9 in a report about the survey conducted last year.
…the Navy has weathered a barrage of withering incoming. They’re doing better among the enlisted ranks, but they also know they have to show the sailors they retain there’s room for advancement and promotions, whatever their job specialties.
The Navy needs people to stay, because no one’s dying to to replace them.
So they came up with a cheerleading “first” story that’s an eyecatching doozy…
For the first time in Navy history, the service has promoted a female mortician to senior chief petty officer. https://t.co/zmIPyWTUjo
— Navy Times (@NavyTimes) October 24, 2023
…but they sure had to work to make it relatable.
For the first time in Navy history, the service promoted a female mortician to senior chief petty officer.
Senior Chief Jessica Zugzda, originally from Perth, New York, is also just the second Navy mortician ever to become a senior chief petty officer, the Navy said Monday.
Although it’s rare for morticians to promote to E-8, Zugzda said she hopes her story encourages other sailors to not limit themselves and recognize what’s possible in the field.
“I want my junior sailors to be able to see their future doesn’t have a cap on it,” Zugzda said, according to a Navy news release. “They can continue to grow, excel, and achieve the unachievable.”
The problem with their “first” is, if you know anything about NECs (Navy Enlisted Classification), some are awfully small. The upward mobility in that NEC is then necessarily limited not by your lack of effort or worth, but by simple math. That’s the nature of the beast. Your specialty is tiny, but you’re testing against your fellow shipmates in a much larger rate pool.
So what happens when someone in the tiny morticians’ NEC qualifies for an opening on a Senior Chief board is that they’re competing against everyone in the hospital corpsmen’s rate (the umbrella career field) – you have your job specialties, but, again, at that senior level you all compete for promotion under that rate. For a numbers comparison, there are 15 morticians in a Hospital Corps with 30,000+ corpsman in over 40 specialties.
It’s a big pot of people. One mortician could be up against literally hundreds of other fellow corpsmen for that year’s Senior Chief Petty Officer (SCPO) selections.
For example, the article itself says she’s “just the second ever to advance” – the first was obviously a lucky guy. Yay – she’s the first woman, but she was probably the next senior member eligible in that small cadre. Which means what when it sounds like there’s realistically a small chance in Hell of ever seeing E-8 unless someone dies or retires, especially if the Navy isn’t making tons of Senior Chiefs the year you’re eligible? Timing and luck a a good part of it.
It can sure get frustrating – I’ve been there. But when there are only 15 of them in the entire Navy, dem’s da breaks.
…“We have to be licensed prior to coming in the Navy, and there are mortuary schools around the country we attend,” said Chief Hospital Corpsman Amy Tucker. “Every state has different licensing requirements. Some states have a dual license, and some have a single license. Once you complete mortuary school, you serve an apprenticeship. Then, once you pass the state-required board test, you become a licensed funeral director and embalmer, which is what we all are.”
There are seven duty stations for the 15-member career field: Millington, Tennessee; Quantico, Virginia; Dover, Delaware; Rota, Spain; Naples, Italy; Hawaii and Guam.
The headquarters element at NPC, which falls under the Navy Casualty Office, performs administrative functions, as does Quantico and Hawaii. Most of its mission involves transportation of a fallen Sailor to a location specified by the family, the family’s travel and benefits, and payment to the family’s selected funeral home for its services. The Millington morticians arrange for Navy escorts and burial details, and the office manages the burial-at-sea program. .
Sailors who perform the more traditional mortician duties staff the remaining sites, usually located at a military medical facility.
Now, God bless SCPO Zugzda for working at what I think would be the toughest place to work – Dover AFB. It’s where our fallen servicemembers come home to and are reverently prepared to be returned to their families. And making SCPO in the Navy is a huge achievement for anyone – I hope she had a helluva party.
But dang.
Take a deep breath on the Cinderella stories, Navy.
“First” sure is getting old.
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