I don't necessarily feel old. Sometimes I look in a mirror and am a bit surprised to see what I see. (Other times I don't look so bad.) Sometimes I see a photograph that makes me feel like Methuselah. (And sometimes the photo is very flattering.) Sometimes I squat to get things out of a lower cupboard and hear my joints creaking. (And other times I outstrip dawdling middle schoolers and feel fast and furious.)
But then things happen and upon reflection I think, "They see me as old!"
Let me explain. The box boy seems incredulous that I intend to haul my groceries out myself. I realize that I'm older than his grandmother and he's sure I need assistance. People younger than me open doors for me - thinking I'm sure that I need them opened by someone else. Students will stop running in the hall when I shout "Walk!" because I'm someone who looks like she needs to be reckoned with. (translate that: old!!)
This realization has come to me upon reflection. I feel like I've always felt. I used to help old ladies with their groceries - and on occasion still do. I open doors for people who look like they need help - often young mothers with their hands full. And I used to have to yell "Walk!" more than once. But somehow the newest inductees at Clifton see me as ancient - and they aren't sure how I will react, so they err on the side of caution.
This state of affairs is not without its merits. I like only having to yell "Walk!" once. I like getting assistance in markets and post offices. I like being deferred to because I'm older - and maybe even wiser. This has been especially apparent the last few years at my school. As kids who knew me as the parent of Eliza, Hannah or Noah - often the younger siblings of their friends - have left, the new crop only know me as a graying RSP teacher who can bark out commands with the best of them. My status is my age - and showing it! (Which is why I like to walk fast and outstrip them - that always gets their attention!)
I've never been a "young" teacher - I started my career after age 50 for heaven's sake. But I used to feel like I could be the students' mother - now I'm their grandmother - easily! (A student once asked me how old I was. I said, "I'm old enough to be your grandmother." "Oh," he replied, "are you 32?") But a young lady today said, as I was telling her that she really belongs in a regular ed language arts class, "but your class is fun."
So it's apparently not all about age. Thanks goodness!
But then things happen and upon reflection I think, "They see me as old!"
Let me explain. The box boy seems incredulous that I intend to haul my groceries out myself. I realize that I'm older than his grandmother and he's sure I need assistance. People younger than me open doors for me - thinking I'm sure that I need them opened by someone else. Students will stop running in the hall when I shout "Walk!" because I'm someone who looks like she needs to be reckoned with. (translate that: old!!)
This realization has come to me upon reflection. I feel like I've always felt. I used to help old ladies with their groceries - and on occasion still do. I open doors for people who look like they need help - often young mothers with their hands full. And I used to have to yell "Walk!" more than once. But somehow the newest inductees at Clifton see me as ancient - and they aren't sure how I will react, so they err on the side of caution.
This state of affairs is not without its merits. I like only having to yell "Walk!" once. I like getting assistance in markets and post offices. I like being deferred to because I'm older - and maybe even wiser. This has been especially apparent the last few years at my school. As kids who knew me as the parent of Eliza, Hannah or Noah - often the younger siblings of their friends - have left, the new crop only know me as a graying RSP teacher who can bark out commands with the best of them. My status is my age - and showing it! (Which is why I like to walk fast and outstrip them - that always gets their attention!)
I've never been a "young" teacher - I started my career after age 50 for heaven's sake. But I used to feel like I could be the students' mother - now I'm their grandmother - easily! (A student once asked me how old I was. I said, "I'm old enough to be your grandmother." "Oh," he replied, "are you 32?") But a young lady today said, as I was telling her that she really belongs in a regular ed language arts class, "but your class is fun."
So it's apparently not all about age. Thanks goodness!
3 comments:
Thanks for the reflections. I feel exactly the same way. The Foreign Service is a young people's organization. I was the OLDEST person in Kyiv and almost the OLDEST person here in La Paz. My friends are young enough to be my children but, most of the time, it really doesn't matter and I enjoy them very much. I am not the writer that you are so it was fun to see how I feel put in very good words. Thanks again.
My dad has expressed some of these same feelings over the past 5 or so years. He tells me that he will sometimes catch a glimpse of an old man in the mirror and then realize the old guy is him!
i think age is relative. and you are my relatives.
and part of me looks forward to growing older, and most of me is at peace with looking older.
what i'm really curious about - is what "age" we are in the afterlife. do we get to choose? are we all old and wrinkly? or are we all just airbrushed and lovely. or are we just invisible? or do we appear to be the age the other person sees us?
that's what i think about while contemplating "Being Your Own Kind of Beautiful"
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