Confronting My Inner Ageist: OFL Week 4

Here's my Operation Fear Liberation (OFL) snapshot for the fourth week of January. Once again, I've forced myself to do something new. 

Week 4: Visit a life-care retirement community to attend a talk/conversation on ageism.

Why it’s on my list: My 70-year-old friend CD, who I met through a friendship-match program for isolated elders and people with disabilities called Elder Friends, asked me if I would like to go with her to this conversation café. Led by author Wendy Lustbader, the planned conversation topic for the evening was "Changing the Culture of Aging in the 21st Century."  C was clearly eager to attend this event, and since C has had several TBIs and is unable to drive, I knew she wouldn’t be able to do so without my help. Friends help each other out.

Since I’m in my mid-30s, I haven’t had many invites or reasons to attend a talk directed at a senior community. However, both of my parents qualified for full Social Security benefits last year and are by America’s standards officially senior citizens. When I consider of how very capable, active, and healthy my parents still are (in my view, anyway), this topic holds more intrigue for me than before. 

And I also have witnessed ageism in action on several occasions when I've been out on the town with C, or my 94-year-old grandmother, or my 80-something landlady, GK.  All three ladies are still more than sharp in the brains department, yet the moment salespeople see C's cane, Grandma's walker, or GK's white hair, there is a notable shift in their demeanor; they assume an ignorance on the part of my elder companion, a comprehension level on par with a kindergartener.  Often, while their speech becomes louder and slower (which, honestly, is helpful for both Grandma and GK), the salespeople's faces and gestures subtly convey increasing impatience and irritation.  C has made no secret of how much this condescension bothers her, and I can tell it frustrates my grandmother and GK too.  I don't like seeing any of my friends or family members have their feelings hurt, so I totally support changing the way this culture perceives our elders.

Plus, I am sure that I have unwittingly committed acts of ageism many, many times.  I don't want to be an ageist, so I thought this talk might enlighten me as to ways that I can avoid such ageist behavior in the future.

My 2012 BAGs

I like big ass goals (BAGs).

For the last two years, I have challenged myself with quite a few BAGs.  These BAGs were clearly defined, with timelines and other parameters in place to give the BAGs structure and to hold me accountable.  In 2010, I committed to do, and did, at least 30 minutes of yoga for 360 straightdays.  In 2011, I challenged myself monthly to reduce my consumption of a different practice or item that I believe is unhealthy when over-consumed.  By and large, I succeeded at those challenges too. 

Challenges of years past: on my way to 360 days via half moon pose...

There was a time not so very long ago when achieving any of my BAGs felt unlikely.  I’d set a bunch of BAGs at once and feel pumped up about them for a few weeks, but then I would inevitably get overwhelmed by the first sign of difficulty or derailed by one of life’s endless distractions.  So I would cut myself a little slack.  As time passed, I’d push my BAGs further and further back on the shelf until I had all but forgotten them.  I had achieved nothing.

Deep down, I knew that dropping my BAGs every time the going got rough was no way to live.  If Eminem is right about how “you only get one shot,” then I was squandering my shot.  Instead of living my life to the fullest, I was loitering in a place of fear, self-doubt, and passivity.  I was particularly wary of change; I went to great lengths to avoid it at all costs.  But change is unstoppable; it has its way with all of us sooner or later.  In 2009, change caught up with me and knocked me on my ass.  When I managed to get back up, I decided it was long past time for me to start accomplishing some of those things I’d always wanted to do.