
In my new incarnation as a visibly older woman, I like talking to grocery clerks. When I was younger, I never just chatted beyond the mechanics of paying. Now, I start conversations with checkers and swap tips with my fellow customers. I’m much more relaxed than my more uptight younger self.
But then something like this happens. The youngish male clerk greets me with, ‘Hello, young lady.’ Do I even need to say that I hate that expression?
I can tell the guy means no harm; he says, “Hello, young lady,” with a cheerful effort as if he is doing his very best on a bad day. I want to retort some badass putdown, but I can imagine his face looking hurt, followed by embarrassment, and then settling into anger. Would it be worth it? Not today, not to me; I just came here to buy my groceries. I also would bet money that he would say, “I was just joking.”
I know we absorb these messages that put us in our place, limit our capacities, and draw attention to some part of you (your age, in this case) — that is not all of you. In her book Breaking the Age Code, Dr. Becca Levy says having a positive attitude about aging can add 8 years to your healthy life span! The problem is, she writes, we pick up these attitudes from our culture while we are doing other things. We read the newspaper for the news and watch Steven Colbert for a laugh and get a dose of ageism while we do it.
Part of Training for Old Age is creating a strong screen that holds back the negative messages we pick up from society. A big part is just being aware of age stereotypes. If you find yourself buying into a stereotype, push back. I’ll write more about maintaining a positive attitude toward aging in future blogs, but let’s get back to the grocery clerk.
I am still glad I didn’t embarrass him.
Recently, I posted a comment on Adam Kinzinger’s blog and told a story about how I had not confronted a relative who voted for Trump because I was too shocked. A woman on the site jumped all over me. I should have confronted my relative, they said. I am a coward! It was the comments section of a political blog, after all — but I felt hurt and then moved over to defensive. I spent overtime ruminating on why I was right, she was wrong, and I wasn’t a coward.
If I had shamed the grocery clerk or confronted my relative, it would have had the same result. Two pissed-off people who would 1) never try and be nice to an old lady again and 2) certainly would not regret their vote for Trump.
And yet, just letting it go felt wrong; ok, lady in the Kinzinger comment section, even I sense a little cowardliness in my retreat. Here is what I hope I do in the future when someone calls me a young lady. I will take a big breath and calm myself. Assume goodwill if I can. Smile and say, “Thanks for being so friendly. However, I don’t like being called a young lady. I am proud of my age.” I may even rehearse it before I go to the store; I’m always better with some rehearsal.
And let’s not forget my Trump-voting-relative. I love them; we’ve known each other as family for a long time. I owe him that conversation.
I’m still annoyed at that lady in the Kinzinger comment section, but I have to say, she moved me along. Just don’t let her know, ok?
Funny, I never get called a young lady. But then I never get called any kind of lady.
But if I did...I would say thank you, but I am not a young lady. I could be your grandma.
Suzie M-W