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Early in his writing career, Kurt Vonnegut was surprised and annoyed to find his stories relegated by reviewers to “the drawer labeled ‘science fiction.’ “ He wrote, “I would like out particularly since so many serious critics regularly mistake the drawer for a urinal.”
Many adults of a certain age have feelings similar to Vonnegut’s when it comes to the drawer labeled “old.” We hate that label. We despise that label. We reject that label. And if you doubt that, the proof is in the profits – for anti-wrinkle creams, hair coloring, cosmetic surgery, gym memberships, weight-loss drugs, and of course, Viagra. We will do almost anything to avoid being seen as old.
It may be technically correct to say that the word “old” is a neutral term, yet we know that’s not true. In a society that equates youthfulness with goodness, vitality, creativity, and (lest we forget) beauty, “old” becomes a pejorative. We become defensive because we want no one to think we are ready for obsolescence. We reject the word because of its implied subtexts – we refuse to consider ourselves decrepit, pitiful, useless, or hanging out in God’s waiting room.
Euphemisms and Slurs
Perhaps there is a better word to describe our chronological condition. But we’ve seen plenty of euphemisms come and go. We were “mature.” Then we were “senior citizens.” The current term of art is “older adults.” Admittedly, any one of them is better than the labels slapped on us behind our backs – including “geezer,” “old-timer,” “crone,” “codger,” or “garrulous old fart.” But euphemisms always wear out their welcome, and they don’t solve the underlying problem, which is the attitudes shaped by our youth-hugging culture.
Louise Aronson, geriatrician and author of Elderhood: Redefining Aging, Transforming Medicine, Reimaging Life, offers the term “elder” as a better all-purpose identifier and “elderhood” as a proper description for our stage of life. She believes elderhood deserves equal billing with childhood and adulthood. But as she admits in a TED talk, the label is not the problem. “No one likes any of the names for old,” she says. “The problem is with how we think about old age. We refuse to approach it with the same enthusiasm, creativity, and sense of possibility that we routinely apply to childhood and adulthood.”
In other words, we didn’t start this fire, but we have to take some responsibility for dealing with it. If we intend to be proactive, we have two choices. The first is to change the ageist culture we live in that makes “old” a label we instinctively recoil from. A surprising number of groups and individuals are trying to do just that, but we are talking about the kind of change that takes decades, if not centuries. The second choice is to shift our own attitude toward being old. And by that, I mean to embrace it.
Positive Points
Being old has its positive points. “There is so much more to elderhood than the few years of frailty that commonly precede death,” says Aronson. “With elderhood comes resolution of some of the greatest pitfalls and problems of adulthood.” The whole span of our elderhood stage, from the traditional retirement age of 65 to the farthest reaches of our life expectancy, could stretch 25 to 30 years or even longer. “We will spend more years in elderhood than we did in childhood,” Aronson notes. “We have more years to enjoy life and contribute to the world – if the world will let us.”
“Life has fewer options,” she admits, “and for most of us that turns out to be a good thing.” Aware that the clock is ticking, and armed with greater self-knowledge, decisions become clearer and surer, she says. “We think about those lost roles and functions as a negative,” but they also are “opportunities to try out new experiences, activities, pastimes, and types of work.”
Stop denying age, she advises. Acknowledge its challenges but also recognize its opportunities.
We don’t need to embrace another euphemism to avoid admitting aloud that we are, in fact, old. Aging happens to everyone, you know. It’s natural. We can deny the inevitable, or we can accept it, wear it with pride, relish it, and seize the chances it affords us.
Interesting that "crone" has taken on a more nuanced meaning of late & is embraced by many women. I read that crone comes from "crown" (head) and refers to wisdom and the ability to "see" with more than just the eyes.
I have been fortunate in my health, so I can't speak with authority about what it's like to age with compromised mobility, for example. But for me, the slowing down, the deeper recognition of what has value, the opportunity to be better at loving, are occasions for joy.