Proudly 60
No, we won’t go quietly
One morning a couple of weeks ago, I woke up and I was 60. Just like that.
As I do on any other normal day, I took an early-morning walk. But something was not the same. Under the watchful eyes of a dassie family near the river mouth, this zig-zagged through my head: is it time to delete reference to my year of birth on social media?
Why would or should I do that, I wondered. It wasn’t that easy getting here, and many people didn’t make it. I’m five years older than my dad was and a couple of decades older than some dear friends. Instead of hiding my age, I should celebrate; I should refuse to direct ageism at myself or anyone; I should shout it out loud.
And so I did.
I hurried my thoughts into a Facebook post and used the public setting: “Today, I am 60! … apparently when you get to a certain age, you should pretend you are not. Well, hell … I AM.” You can read the post here if you wish. Essentially, I potted my history into a paragraph on the decades of life and offered a handful of things I’d learnt. “In the decades that come, there will be new things to share. But this is where I am now: grateful, alive, growing, learning. And 60.”
What I did not expect was how that shoutout would echo back. Before I knew it, about 190 people had hearted or liked the post – and more than 220 people, including people I have never met, had commented.
The post resonated with a lot of people. That’s because ageism is real. It’s as bad as those other isms: racism and sexism. It’s as bad as things that aren’t isms, like homophobia. All of those nasties reduce your value as a human being – and like any stigma, we are very good at imposing it on ourselves. My fleeting urge to hide my age underlines this.
Words to live by
Of course, people said many lovely things that made me feel wonderful, like: “You make 60 look absolutely fabulous.” They shared so much more. Here are just a few comments:
My friends welcomed me to “a damn fine ride”, the “60 teens”, the “swinging 60s”, the “sizzling 60s” and the “sexy 60s”. The “60s seem to be about finding your path, turning your face to the sun, sinking into relaxed power … and lots of humour”.
S: “Welcome to the What Happens Next Club! We are the lucky ones who have been selected to live long enough to see what happens next. This is the reward for enduring the loss of those we have held dear. I hope you enjoy every day. Xoxo PS, 70 is even more interesting!”
J: “Remember, you are as old as you feel! At nearly 76, I still feel 30!” And H: “… the awesome part is you still have a lifetime ahead of you filled with adventure … my new hashtag for you (and me) is #ifyourenotthereyoullmissit.”
A: “Own it, Sisi! Welcome to the 6th floor. I’ll be halfway up in April #65 and proud of it!!” J: “I’m 64 next month. And, you’re right. I don’t give a damn about what other people think of me. The 60s can be very liberating.” And G: “My fabulous 60 is just months away and I am only at the beginning of my journey of life.”
There was good advice. B: “Embrace every single day, week, month, years. I look forward to turning 100 with you.” S: “Welcome to your best decade ever! You’ll realize now how much has passed, and how little time is left, so live it to the full, even if your toes hurt and your head tells you otherwise!”
And a reminder of a perk: “And now you qualify for 10% pensioners’ discount on top of it!!”
This, from S, who I don’t know, touched me: “I just love your approach to your sixties. I’m 80yrs old and still learning.” And from A: “I don’t know you Janette, but trust you celebrated your 60th in style! Totally love the way you have chatted thru your life …. an eye opener for many folk.”
Refusing to be invisible
You get the gist. My friends were not just sharing their wisdom about growing older. They were expressing a refusal to become invisible. Women, particularly, according to the articles I’ve read recently, slide into invisibility – from their 40s! – being passed over for jobs, promotions and other opportunities.
That’s ageism in action. Even the World Health Organization (WHO) recognizes ageism. WHO defines it as “the stereotypes (how we think), prejudice (how we feel) and discrimination (how we act) towards others or oneself based on age”.
WHO offers some evidence of how awful the effects of ageism are. Ageism is associated with earlier death (by 7.5 years), increases risky health behaviour (like eating an unhealthy diet and drinking excessively or smoking), and reduces our quality of life.
“Ageism can change how we view ourselves, can erode solidarity between generations, can devalue or limit our ability to benefit from what younger and older populations can contribute, and can impact our health, longevity and well-being while also having far-reaching economic consequences,” WHO says.
Of course, we need policies and education to take on ageism. But we can start by taking a stand. I did that and so did my friends.
One of my closest friends, Paul, will be 90 this year. I sent him a message, asking for his thoughts on ageing. He was busy; he was at the edge of Kruger National Park, monitoring white rhino populations. But he promised to come back to me, and I will share his view when he does. Paul will never be invisible. Neither will I.
