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it has come to my attention that i have yet another bias to overcome.

age.

yep. i'm a big ole age-ist (ageist, agist?). i don't know when it happened or why, but i have a hard time relating to people significantly older than me and it leads me to say and do things i don't normally associate with my behavior.

for example, i got to work a bit late today (surprise surprise) and so, took the shuttle rather than walk to my building. on the shuttle, i realized i was the youngest person there by at least 20 years. it made me uncomfortable. i mean, it was all there, the craggy veins, the wispy hair, the thin skin, the knotted hands. all of it. right there. at least five people sitting around me displaying these distinct signs of age. i didn't experience anything as drastic and dramatic as disgust or fear, but i was anxious to be off that shuttle, out of such close space with people so old.

in analyzing this, i have to think about my experiences with senior citizens. other than my papa, i didn't grow up around many and i really didn't see my papa as old until after the chemo. my mother, at 53, doesn't seem very old to me. i was raised around tons of young (maybe too young), single women and their children. youth was more than just my badge and banner, it was our way of life. my mother was probably the oldest of the women.

as i've gotten older, i have definitely been more exposed to older generations, but they seem so separate and different from me. i guess i see my generation as such a drastic shift from previous ones that the gap is tremendous. i was also not raised in the busom of extended family, so older aunts, uncles, and grandparents didn't have much affect on me (save my papa, who was a dancer and a story teller and who seemed eternally young).

my only real experience with age came the summer before i went to college when i worked as a housekeeper in a convalescent center. i suppose that's not the best experience by which to judge, but it's all i have. those men and women were broken, either mentally or physically, and death seemed to loom over the hallways. i felt a profound sense of despair while working there, but my memories of the center are filled with images of weak, immobile people with craggy veins, wispy hair, thin skin, knotted hands.

perhaps my problems with older generations stem directly from the despair i felt while at this center. perhaps being face to face with broken bodies and minds 8 hours a day for 3 months forged an irreperable link between age and death and therefore, seeing the signs of age brings up my own fears about dying.

or, perhaps i'm just egotistical enough to believe that there is no way an old woman (or man) could possibly understand or have anything in common with me. perhaps i see age as an indicator of my generation's completely different life experiences and outlook. perhaps those signs of age are also, to me, little clues as to what has been and what will be. maybe i am uncomfortable because i feel i have something (youth, perspective, etc) that those in previous generations weren't able to hold on to.

i think it's probably a little of both. i definitely recognize and accept my egotism and that of my generation. i also have to admit that coming closer to Old is scary, especially for someone so used to be Too Young.

i may never come to terms with this bias, but i'd like to think that admitting and analyzing it are good first steps.

you got something to say?