This is from yesterday's Sunday Paper:
"... an “out beyond” category, which is where I find myself these
days as well. I’m out beyond raising small children. I’m out beyond a marriage.
I’m out beyond being a caregiver for my parents. I’m out beyond being young
(but I certainly don’t feel old). I’m out beyond so many of the commitments
that used to structure my life. I’m in an out-beyond place that defies description,
and that’s both thrilling and scary.
But this I know for sure: none of us fit squarely into a box, even though society wants to peg you or box you in. I’ve never been one thing, and I doubt you are either. I’ve decided to embrace this indescribable space. I am a multitude of things with a curiosity that spans categories. I aspire to engage in a language of politics that’s aspirational, one that’s about service, love, dignity, strength, hope, and unity.
I aspire to be an open-hearted and open-minded writer/journalist that can both inform and inspire. I see my journalism as an extension of my service, an extension of my calling. I call upon myself to be an advocate for the eradication of Alzheimer’s and someone who uses their voice to bring equity to women’s health."
But this I know for sure: none of us fit squarely into a box, even though society wants to peg you or box you in. I’ve never been one thing, and I doubt you are either. I’ve decided to embrace this indescribable space. I am a multitude of things with a curiosity that spans categories. I aspire to engage in a language of politics that’s aspirational, one that’s about service, love, dignity, strength, hope, and unity.
I aspire to be an open-hearted and open-minded writer/journalist that can both inform and inspire. I see my journalism as an extension of my service, an extension of my calling. I call upon myself to be an advocate for the eradication of Alzheimer’s and someone who uses their voice to bring equity to women’s health."
For many years I have said I don't want to be put in a box. In our culture, we are often put in a box according to our age. In other countries, elder folk are revered for their wisdom and honored because they are the matriarchs and patriarchs of the family.
My good friend, Estelle, once said to me, "Don't tell your real age. When you do, people think about the number instead of who you really are."
I think that is absolutely true. Most of us have a stereotype in mind of what a person looks like if he is 70, 75, or 80. That stereotype also includes the idea that anyone this age is no longer relevant. Younger people often discard ideas and advice of their elders because they think the older person's words have no worth to them.
Although today men and women are living well and working in some capacity well into their eighties. My brother who is over ninety has his own business and worked until last year when he fell ill with COVID. He has not completely gained his health back, but he is doing better all the time. His mind is great and he loves to tell stories about the old days, some funny and some serious. I enjoy those stories and write them down so we can pass them on.
My co-author for Paws, Claws, Hooves, Feathers and Fins, said her doctor said she was in good health for a woman in her mid-nineties. She is fun to talk with and laugh with. We talk on the phone often since we are not visiting now because this virus is surging in our area.
I have felt the sting of being put in a box by those who know me. When my husband died, I was instantly put into the box marked WIDOW. When that happens your married friends no longer invite you out. Your male friends who are married keep a distance. Soon most of your friends are widows or other women who have your same interests. For me, that is writing. Most of my friends are bloggers, authors, poets, and writers of memoirs. Since I teach memoir writing now, my students often become dear friends. I am grateful for that.
Like Maria Shriver, I aspire to be an open-hearted and open-minded writer, teacher, blogger, that can both inform and inspire. No, I am not going to be put into a box. I will grow every day as my curiosity pushes me to learn more and my desire to help others urges me to teach. As long as I can do something in this world that is helpful or makes a difference for good, I will not worry about age.
Dear Readers and friends, have a great week doing what you enjoy. Be safe.
Thank you.
ReplyDeleteBoxes have never fit me - or I have never fit them. And increasingly I have stopped trying to make that particular (and doomed) effort.
Those boxes can be stifling as you know. I remember my mother who expected me to quit my job when our daughter was born. A working mother wasn’t right in her book. She accepted it in time, but if she didn’t, I was okay with it. As A young woman, I was a principal attending principal meetings where the others were older men.
ReplyDeleteWe have to carve our own paths. As I age, I expect the same. That’s the way it is. It is a challenge but I have enjoyed every one, in hindsight.
You do you, Glenda. I will cheer you on.
Thanks, EC. Boxes are way too confining.
ReplyDeleteGlenda, like you, I wear many hats. I'm a writer, singer, and water exercise instructor. Many of the people with whom I associate are either writers, singers, or water exercisers. Thank you for sharing this thought-provoking post.
ReplyDeleteThis is an excellent posting, Glenda. Yes, I agree with Maria. Don't let people put you into a box. That's why I don't tell people my age. They want to stereotype people according to their ages. We can continue to be productive citizens no matter our ages.
ReplyDeleteAbbie, you do wear many hats and wear them well. Thanks for your comment.
ReplyDeleteBrenda Kay, I so agree with you. In today's world, older people are very productive and not the stereotype we see on TV.
ReplyDeleteMarie, I remember when I had to choose to be a teacher, a nurse, or a secretary or get married and be a full-time housewife. I was supposed to put myself in a box way back then. Strange how life can make turns and twists and we can continue to reinvent who we are and what we do.
ReplyDelete