“How old was she?”

The question was asked in response to a story regarding customer behavior in a bank. If the listener instead had asked – “How black was she?” – we would have (and should have) been shocked and offended. How is it so different? Why is it still okay to have a general lack of respect for and a bias against senior citizens? It is not at all uncommon to hear the descriptor “old” when telling a story or relating an incident but I never feel it necessary to include skin color as an adjective. That said, I grew up in a time and place where identifying skin color was not only acceptable but for many in my white middle-class upbringing absolutely necessary; and now I am aging in a time and place where in the eyes of the world, with each passing moment I become less significant, less relevant, and feel more and more like a curio in a shadow box.

Or…

…are we all, no matter our time, place, age, or personal circumstance, merely exhibits to be looked upon with curiosity, (if looked upon at all), and it is my advancing age that is just now allowing me to grasp this actuality. Perhaps nothing has changed, perhaps it is that I am only just now beginning to untangle this misunderstanding. If this be the case, then instead of suffering recent, unwarranted abuse perhaps the abuse has just changed in degree or delivery making it more noticeable. Perhaps I have simply moved from one niche to another.

Regardless, the takeaway for me is to become more aware of and judicious in my use of “old” as an adjective. Though I would like to think I am not actively biased, upon reflection this is not entirely true and I am most definitely guilty of perpetuating the bias by consistently referring to myself as old. Regarding race, in my lifetime I believe as a society (from our blatant prejudice to our implicit bias) we have improved appreciably. Regarding age, I need to start with myself…