Betraying my age group
By Celeste Lindell of Average Jane
When I turned 40, I decided that I was through being cagey about my age. I don’t go around announcing, “I’m 41!” to everyone I meet, but neither do I hem and haw when someone asks.
On Friday mornings, I go to coffee with a group of people who share my profession. They’re all much younger than I am – twenty- and thirtysomethings. I think I’ve only mentioned my age once during a coffee meetup and it’s been a while, so I’m pretty sure they all perceive me as younger than I am.
Last week, Olympic swimmer Dara Torres came up in conversation. The people discussing her were impressed by her achievements but then they started talking about how she’s so old. I don’t think the dreaded word “cougar” came up, but I distinctly remember hearing the word “grandma.”
It would have been the easiest thing in the world for me to jokingly say, “Hey watch it, I’m 41 too, you know!” but I choked. If someone had said something racist or sexist, my disapproval would have been immediate and vocal, but I couldn’t bring myself to speak up and shed the cloak of being thought younger than I am.
I imagine each young generation is chock-full of casual ageism until time catches up with them. Should I have said something? I’m still not sure.
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I just turned 51 and marvel at how “old” I don’t feel. True, I make funny noises when I get up, and yeah, I don’t bounce back the way I did when I was 21, but I somehow had this idea that the older you get, the older you THINK.
Nope.
I’m a full-time university student, surrounded by people (and teachers) who are younger than me. Getting this younger viewpoint/worldview has been interesting. It’s a good idea not to be surrounded only by one’s age group, I think; hearing from younger people gives you an idea of how people who aren’t like you think and feel. You can then feel free to agree or disagree.
I am happier than I have ever been. That’s why I *do* challenge ageist assumptions. If a younger person makes such a comment, I will (courteously) suggest that four or five decades allows for the getting of wisdom, or at least experience. I also note that youth and vigor will always be overcome by age and treachery.
My favorite ageist assumption to date: In my first year of school (after 30 years away), we were reading “Sula” and the teacher noted that the author wrote the book in her 40s as a divorced mother. She suggested that the text may have been influenced by the author’s newfound freedom but also by the struggle of two possible female identities: mother and sexual being. A young man in the class objected to that; he said that if the author was in her 40s and had children, she wouldn’t be interested in sex.
The instructor, who was in her 40s and had a child, looked somewhat startled; at the time I was 46 and had a grown daughter. So I blurted out the first thing that came to mind: “We’re just in our 40s — we’re not DEAD!”
The class howled. The teacher fought very hard to keep from smiling. The young man looked scandalized.
byjane reply on January 6th, 2009 4:33 pm:
Donna,
Thanks for visiting MidLifeBloggers and writing such a provocative comment.
I went back to school in my 40s and 50s, so I know exactly what you’re experiencing. Would you be interested in writing about it for MidLifeBloggers?
Jane
Welcome to my world. As a 43-year-old mother to a toddler, I mostly interact with the 20-something mothers of toddlers. I go along thinking and feeling like I’m 30 – then BOOM! Big reminder…I’m 43. Yuck.
Hey Celeste,
I agree a lot of it is perception. When you’re young, everyone beyond the limited world you can relate to appears old. And you want to remain separate from that, becaue until we figure out who we really are, the fact that we’re YOUNG is a big part of our identity. It’s a phase, I remember going through it too. The bigger question for me is: Why do we care so much what younger people think of us?
That said, I totally get where you’re coming from. Because I’ve tended to do things later in life than the average person, I’ve often found myself surrounded by people younger than me. At times I’ve been okay with it, other times, not so much.
I just happened to write about this very thing on my blog, http://www.noclocks.wordpress.com. Check it out if you get a chance.
Carol
My younger friends would occasionally make fun of women my age — their clothes and their looks, particularly if they’d had work done. My best friend, who is also 47, dances with a tango group. The young women in her group often talk about “the really old people, like 40-something.” She took some comfort in the fact that her friends obviously didn’t see her as one of “those people” — but both of us had the same reaction. We were hurt! I spoke to a few of my friends about it, but eventually realized that it’s just something you can’t learn until you reach those milestones yourself. So I cultivated more friends who are my age and older.
In a work setting, I think you were probably right to let it slide. Age discrimination in the workplace is real, and there’s no benefit in having your colleagues see you as a grandma. Save your energy to re-educate those who matter.
Time heals all wounds and wounds all heels. They’ll figure it out soon enough. Tick, tock.
I wouldn’t have said anything, either. But later? I would have used all my wisdom and wiles to destroy them, one at a time, personally and professionally. Bwwwaaahahahaha.
No, really. I think that the ageism I’m constantly “perceiving” now is mostly just karma catching up with me from when I was younger and blithely dismissive of anyone who looked old enough to be my parent.
I don’t know if you should have, but I would have, in a heartbeat, and teased them mercilessly afterwards. But that’s how I am.