Sandwiched but Not Stuck

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Leadership in education is often described as noble, purposeful, and people-centred. Yet, for those positioned in the middle of the hierarchy, leadership can feel less like inspiration and more like constant translation—between strategy and execution, ideals and constraints, people and performance.

As a millennial middle manager, my leadership journey has been shaped profoundly by managing two very different generations at opposite ends of the employee lifecycle: first, a team of Gen X long-tenured employees, and later, a team of Gen Z newcomers.

In both contexts, I found myself “sandwiched” between expectations—managing upwards to Gen X and Boomer leaders, while managing downwards to teams with fundamentally different motivations, fears, and definitions of work.

This reflection is not an attempt to label generations as good or bad, committed or entitled. Rather, it is:

“An honest examination of what it means to lead when competence and commitment do not always coexist, when support risks becoming dependency, and when the role of a middle manager is less about authority and more about endurance, judgement, and growth.”

Managing Gen X: Experience Without Engagement

When I first managed a Gen X team, I inherited six long-serving employees—individuals with deep institutional knowledge, years of experience, and a sophisticated understanding of organisational culture.

They knew the systems, the loopholes, the informal power structures, and, importantly, how to survive. Many had reached the ceiling of their salary bands. Their benefits were better than those of newer staff. Career progression was no longer a realistic motivator.

The organisation’s 9-to-5 role had effectively become a safety net rather than a professional calling. They did what was required to get by—no more, no less. Growth, innovation, or discretionary effort held little appeal. From the outside, this behaviour might easily be framed as laziness or entitlement. From the inside, however, it was clear that this was not a lack of ability, but a lack of incentive.

What made this particularly challenging was the broader leadership context. My boss at the time, a Gen X leader with extensive organisational experience, was focused on ensuring results within existing structural constraints.

With a team that had reached career and compensation plateaus, re-engagement was difficult to engineer, and the leadership emphasis leaned toward maintaining performance standards.

As a result, much of the responsibility for driving day-to-day execution and managing disengagement naturally fell on middle managers. This placed me in an impossible position. I was expected to deliver outcomes through people who had no meaningful reason to change, while simultaneously absorbing pressure from above and resistance from below.

“I was managing a broken psychological contract—one where loyalty had been exchanged for security, not growth. The emotional toll of this should not be underestimated. I was not just managing tasks; I was buffering dysfunction.

This experience taught me an early and painful lesson: effort does not always correlate with reward, and middle managers often carry responsibility without power. It also shaped my leadership instinct to be cautious about over-functioning. I learned that carrying too much—for too long—can lead to exploitation and resentment.

Transitioning to Gen Z: Commitment Without Confidence

Managing Gen Z, however, presented an entirely different challenge. My new team also consisted of six staff, but this time they were all early-career professionals with less than two years of experience.

“They were fast learners, digitally fluent, and highly teachable. Their energy was refreshing. Their willingness to engage was evident.

Yet, alongside this came a different set of struggles.

Unlike my Gen X team, Gen Z staff were not disengaged—they were anxious. They hesitated to take on new responsibilities, worried that doing more would result in being overloaded or taken advantage of. They required frequent reassurance that support existed and that mistakes would not be punished disproportionately. If guidance was not visible, confidence quickly eroded. Independence, at this stage, was fragile.

Their fears were not irrational. This generation has grown up witnessing burnout culture, economic instability, layoffs despite loyalty, and the erosion of traditional career promises. They have learned to be cautious. Where Gen X had learned to conserve energy, Gen Z has learned to manage risk.

Further to this dynamic was my boss—another Gen X leader, but one with a markedly different leadership style. She was nurturing, present, and deeply supportive. Her “motherly” approach created psychological safety for the team. They trusted her. They felt held. And it worked—for this stage of team’s development. Yet, for me, this clarity came early.

While I appreciated the level of support provided and recognised its value for a young team, I became acutely aware—within just the first two weeks—of the direction I did not want to take. My experience managing a long-tenured Gen X team had already taught me the cost of dependency, stagnation, and over-reliance on individuals rather than systems. I did not experience internal conflict; instead, I experienced a sense of enlightenment.

“I knew that while support was necessary at this stage, it could not become the defining feature of my leadership. I wanted this team to grow into confident, independent professionals, capable of functioning without constant reassurance.”

I was determined not to raise another generation of employees who could not operate without me.

The Millennial Middle Manager Dilemma

At the heart of this struggle is my position as a millennial middle manager. I am close enough to senior leadership to understand organisational constraints, accountability, and risk. At the same time, I am close enough to frontline staff to see fear, fatigue, and uncertainty. I carry expectations from both directions.

Managing upwards requires diplomacy, translation, and credibility.

Gen X and Boomer leaders often value stability, delivery, and institutional memory. Their caution is shaped by experience. When advocating for younger teams, I must frame ideas in terms of outcomes, compliance, and sustainability—not ideals alone.

Managing downwards, however, requires empathy, clarity, and patience.

Gen Z does not respond well to ambiguity or silence. They need feedback, context, and psychological safety. This is particularly true in education settings, where quality, compliance, and ethical responsibility intersect daily.

The tension I feel is not between generations, but between two extremes: competence without engagement and engagement without confidence.

My resistance to “mothering” is not a rejection of care, but a fear of creating learned helplessness. Yet, withholding support in the name of independence is equally damaging.

Reframing Independence as a Designed Outcome

What ultimately shifted my perspective was reframing independence not as a personality trait, but as a designed outcome. As someone working in education, this realisation felt almost ironic. We would never expect learners to master complex concepts without scaffolding, feedback, and gradual release of responsibility. Yet, emotionally, that was what “be independent” sounded like to my team.

Gen Z does not need endless reassurance, nor do they need abrupt withdrawal of support. They need structured support with intentional tapering. Support that is explicit, time-bound, and developmental—not emotional dependency disguised as care.

This reframing allowed me to reconcile my values. I could remain supportive without over-functioning. I could encourage autonomy without abandoning my team. Independence, I learned, is not demanded—it is built.

Middle Management as the Architecture of Growth

In an ever-evolving education setting:

“Middle managers are often invisible when things work and highly visible when they do not. We translate strategy into practice. We absorb tension so that systems appear stable. We are asked to deliver transformation without disrupting continuity.”

Leading across generations has taught me that leadership is less about charisma and more about judgement. How much support is needed? For how long? For whom? These are not questions with fixed answers.

My Gen X team taught me that disengagement is often a rational response to stagnation. My Gen Z team is teaching me that confidence grows where safety exists—but only if safety does not become a crutch. My bosses have taught me that leadership styles are shaped as much by life stage as by values.

Conclusion: Choosing Growth Over Comfort

Being “sandwiched” between generations is uncomfortable, but it is also where meaningful leadership happens. As a millennial middle manager, my role is not to replicate the leadership I experienced, nor to mirror the leadership above me perfectly.

As a middle manager, my role is to design conditions for growth—for my team, for my organisation, and for myself.

Managing different generations in education has shown me that leadership is not about choosing between care and accountability, but about holding both. It is about recognising that independence is not the absence of support, but the outcome of it.

In an environment defined by change, uncertainty, and generational shift, the most important work of middle managers is not just delivering results. It is shaping people who can eventually deliver without us.

Now that’s the meat I want in my sandwich.

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