Ageism. It’s a thing. Somewhere along the way it seems to have been decided that as people get older they become less visible. Less viable. Less valuable. It can be so subtle sometimes. Younger people walking on the sidewalk together don’t move aside, but expect you to get out of their way. That is of course assuming they see you at all. The phone that used to connect you with clients goes quiet, even though you still have much to offer. Perhaps your best to offer, given your experience and hard earned wisdom Younger colleagues seek one another’s input, seemingly forgetting that you might have something valuable to add to the conversation. It can also be blatantly not so subtle. Like the store employee who booms out “How are you today, young lady?” The sales people waiting just inside the Apple Store drawing invisible straws to see who has to help you, instead of helping a younger, hipper, more “tech-savvy” customer.
And my personal favorite. People start to talk really slowly and really loudly. Don’t even get me started.
Too late.
A couple of days ago I received a letter from the PUD that our utilities were going to be turned off due to missed payments. What?? It wasn’t true, which I made sure to verify before calling them. As it turned out, we were both right. Kind of. I’d made our payments every month for the budgeted amount (we pay the same amount every month rather than more in the winter and less in the summer). I’d also missed the notice that the amount had changed, going up slightly from last year, so had been paying the previous amount, which meant the balance owing had increased. Slightly. My bad. Whatever.
The customer service person I talked to started to explain it all. Slowly and loudly. As if I wouldn’t possibly be able to follow her. I was trying to be a good sport about the whole thing until she said—more slowly and more loudly—“Have you ever heard of auto-pay?” I thought I was going to come through the phone and grab her by her young, less-wrinkled-than-mine throat. Yep, I assured her. I have heard of it. I know how to use it. I do use it. I simply haven’t chosen to use it here. I didn’t yell, or even raise my voice. I didn’t swear at her (unless you count thought bubbles). I kept my cool. I decided to try and be the kind of person she might hope to be when she gets to be my age. By the time we hung up the phone we were laughing, and grateful to have found a solution that worked for everyone. We’re all caught up, on the same page, and wouldn’t you know it, I decided to set it up for auto pay, too. Old dog listening to younger dog resulting in new trick.
In her defense, I’m sure many of the folks she deals with are my age or older. They’re alone and scared, which can make any of us angry and grouchy. The world is changing faster than they can or want to keep up with, and they are holding on to what is familiar for dear life. I may get there some day too, but I hope not.
Ageism is a thing. So is aging. It’s a tricky dynamic. For all of us.
This is us, getting ready to set out on a 100 mile, ten-day trek in Scotland in late 2023. Full disclosure. I might have used a filter to “soften” some of our wrinkles. Like I said. It’s tricky.
