My Daily Dose of Ageism

It doesn’t happen often, but now and then, a younger person gives me a look that’s unmistakable in its intention: to show contempt for me—not as an individual but as a member of a group, one I don’t embrace with enthusiasm. I’ve never gotten up in the morning and said, “Oh goody, I’m old.”

Last week, though, I got a hefty dose of ageism at my pharmacy, of all places. I was about to pay for a prescription when the young assistant behind the counter asked me whether he should use the card I apparently had on file. The question threw me. When did I supply the pharmacy with that information, I wondered? I mumbled something resembling “okay,” but then I inserted my debit card into the machine as usual. That prompted the young man to roll his eyes and berate me for having first given him the go-ahead to use the one in the system and then—my bad!—I deliberately ignored my own instructions.

Adopting my best imitation of Margaret Dumont, the haughty matron in several Marx Brothers movies, I said, “You’re an impatient young man, and I don’t appreciate it one bit,” and began to walk away, my back unnaturally straight and my head held high--but he continued to scold me as I fled the scene.

Internalized Prejudice

In truth, outright ageism isn’t in my face every day of the week, except from one prejudiced individual: me.

Ageism isn’t always about out-and-out discrimination. That’s not to deny the insidious effects of ageism in the workplace, or how it permeates American culture in ways that may seem innocent at first glance. A not-so-funny birthday card with jokes about gray hair and wrinkles. A backhanded compliment about not looking one’s age.

But in one of its most potent forms, ageism is directed against us by us when we internalize a pernicious view of ourselves that may go like this: We’re hopelessly out of touch. We’re slow on the uptake. We’re no longer the sexy beasts we used to be, to say the least, between liver spots, thinning hair, and the loss of libido. In short, we’re in irreversible decline.

The internalization of negative stereotypes is an all too familiar affliction that erodes the mental health of LGBTQ+ individuals, Blacks, and members of other minority groups. Indeed, that affliction can take a toll on a person’s physical health as well. In public health terms, all of the -isms and -phobias to which our society is prone, including ageism, are independent risk factors for ill health and earlier-than-expected death.

It’s obviously in my interest to accentuate the positive when it comes to ageing. The question is: How am I supposed to do that when most of the messaging around older age that enters my beleaguered brain is negative?

What helps and what doesn’t

Sometimes, I’m tempted to say, “hell no, I won’t go.”

Not helpful.

Or, “getting old doesn’t suit me.” After all, I’m an energetic little creature laced with a soupçon of élan and éclat. But when I shared that attitude with a friend over dinner last week, she said, “What choice do we have?”

Not helpful. Neither my remark nor hers.

Then, there’s denial: I’ll just go about my business and pretend I’m 40.

Definitely not helpful.

Okay, how about this one: dignity. Not the stuffy version we may associate with the founding fathers but rather the version enshrined in Article 1 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights:

All human beings are born free and equal in dignity and rights. They are endowed with reason and conscience and should act towards one another in a spirit of brotherhood.

Helpful. Really helpful.

I’m not entirely sure how to comport myself with dignity, whether alone, with friends, or in public settings, but I suspect the answer lies in believing I have it by dint of the basic fact of being human.

Coda

Normally, I wouldn’t use this platform as a soap box. I wouldn’t discuss the moral turpitude and political dirty dealings that have, in my view, overtaken the country on every front, to our individual and collective detriment. Nor would I deign to compete with those brilliant individuals whose insights keep me going: John Ganz, Michael Moore, Nancy Fraser, Noam Chomsky, and other indispensable critics of the Zeitgeist.

Clearly, though, these aren’t normal times.

Our elected leaders and their appointees seem hell-bent on destroying the basis for human dignity. They’re doing this by destroying the public sector itself—especially the programs and policies designed to support working people of every race, age, ethnicity, gender, and sexual preference.

If you continue to trash the federal government and pick on the most vulnerable members of our society, Mr. President (or, should I say Messrs. Co-Presidents), things will not end well for you, or for your descendants, or for the population, including those who voted for you.

In the meantime, I intend to act as if. As if I have purpose, wisdom, and dignity. Because I do.

Never one to indulge in naked self-interest, I think my plan will nonetheless be worth my while. Maybe I’ll even make out like a bandit. Maybe I’ll throw off the shackles of ageism—mainly my own—and gain a few months or even years of life in the bargain.

And the next time a young whippersnapper scolds me at the pharmacy or the market, I won’t rush off in a huff, because that’s not the way a dignified person ought to behave. I’ll simply smile sweetly and say, “have a great day.”