I AM NOT CUTE. OR A YOUNG LADY. SHOW SOME GODDAMNED RESPECT!
Babies are cute. My daughter is young. I am neither.
I really hate to confront people who are just trying to be nice, but what do I say when someone—usually a young service person-- calls me “young lady” I’m 77 years old forgodsakes. I know they’re only trying to be polite, or make me feel good, and I hate to ruin someone’s day, but it makes me grit my teeth.
And how about when a younger friend thinks it’s “cute” that old people are doing something only young people usually do, like hula hooping or learning to tap dance. She’s trying to be complimentary and I hate to burst her bubble by telling her it’s infantilizing to call old people “cute.” Babies are cute. Elders are…..I don’t know what we are? Adults trying to learn something new maybe? When we act in ways that don’t jibe with how young people think old people should act we’re “cute” or “adorable.”
What about when someone yells “you go girl” to an older woman riding a scooter? In a terrific article about ageism as the last acceptable prejudice, 63-year-old grad student Jamie Barker writes about being a senior on a campus full of twenty-somethings: <<I didn’t feel as though this young woman was saying ‘Damn girl you’re killin’ it’ so much as she was saying, “Damn girl you’re old as **** but you can still ride a scooter!” Two important points: One, I’m 63. Two, Just about anyone over the age of seven with the use of their legs could ride my scooter. >>
Maybe we old people should be neither heard nor seen, but quietly fade into the sunset in our gated communities and only emerge to babysit or take our grandchildren to Disney World.
The reality of ageism is that young people don’t know how to act with old people, or what to call us. We make them profoundly uncomfortable because they know that someday they will be us. They tend to forget that we’re still people, just like them, and would like to be treated as equals.
Being old is not pretty and it’s sure not fun—but throughout history being treated with respect has always been the upside of getting old. No one ever contemplated a day when there would be so many of us that we would cease being repositories of wisdom but simply be irrelevant--and expensive—nuisances.
I sympathize. Kittens are cute too, but when they proliferate they tend to get euthanized. Paying for our benefits and caretaking when we fall apart is not fun for young people and it goes on for much too long. Medical science has extended life so that we don’t conveniently die in a timely fashion anymore. Which is a topic for another article.
It’s no wonder the old people on my NextDoor app are so much angrier than the young people in my Facebook groups. Everything pisses us off. Calling us “cute” doesn’t help. What would help? I wouldn’t mind being called “ma’am.” And being recognized for positive qualities associated with age--like wisdom, or maybe perspective or insight--wouldn’t hurt.
Unfortunately, I felt uncomfortable around old ppl when I was young. Sometimes only experience teaches the lesson. I dislike being called young lady bc it reinforces that I m not. If only young ppl could treat us like ppl without ageism. Doubt it will happen.
OMG I could have written this and actually have in other places. On other FB pages. I am 71 going on 72 in a few days and I am so goddamned sick of being infantilized and treated like an incompetent old ninny I could scream. One of the things I find most irritating is when smarmy young men in their late teens and twenties call me “dear” and sweetheart and honey ad nauseum. I frequently say to them don’t call me that - I’m old enough to be your grandmother and you don’t know me from a hole in the wall. Young women as well. Yes I have gray hair and yes I use a walker but I also live alone, drive my own car, and have all my own marbles thank you. I also know that people are just trying to be nice and think they are being helpful or polite or whatever when they come across the parking lot to ask if I need help getting into my car while I am in the middle of folding up my walker. I try to be polite but finally I lost it the other day and said very pleasantly back to the woman - do I *look* like I need help? She just walked away in a huff. What do these people think poor ancient me does when they’re not around to help me? I’ve had people accidentally almost kill me by opening up a door behind me with no warning when I’m perfectly balanced against it to get my walker and me out easily. I almost fell hard backwards because I was put so off balance. I know they were just trying to help me. It’s amazing how some people will passionately support Trumpence’s efforts to destroy social security, Medicaid and all kinds of benefits to help children and people less fortunate than them, but they can’t wait to show how helpful they are to white-haired old women whom they assume must be in great need of their aid - not.