Growing old beats the alternative

And yet, we don't want to grow old.

My paternal grandmother was one of those ladies who lied about her age. All the time. Including on legal documents. While I was cleaning out my mother’s things, I found that my father’s birth certificate had been amended.

Don’t worry, I’m sure this information has been on the Dark Web for years already.

When my father was 16, the fact that his mother had lied about her age on his birth certificate became enough of a problem that she had to go through the trouble of filing an amendment. There’s a story there that I will never know.

I like to think that I have no trouble with aging because it beats the alternative. I’m in good health and have outlived a lot of fine folks who deserved to live longer and better than they did. But at the same time, I am keenly aware that we live in a culture that worships age and ability, which is why I noted my good health in the last sentence.

With great reluctance, I took my graduation years off of my resume. I don’t want to play the game, but I graduated from college when I was 20 and from grad school when I was 25, so the graduation dates make me look even older than I am. Age discrimination is a real thing. I’m told that if prospecitive employers don’t see a graduation year, they assume an applicant is 50, so if you are over 50, take off the dates. Under 50, add them.

(Also, I’m told that the absolute worst way to start off your LinkedIn profile is “A seasoned professional with X years experience in . . .” because it highlights your age.)

And yet, it’s harder than ever to hide age, because everything is online. I may not have my graduation years on my resume or LinkedIn, but I served on reunion committees for both my undergraduate and graduate classes. I don’t want to keep secrets, but I also want to be considered on my merits.

Back in 1938, my grandmother decided that 44 was too old to be having a baby, so she said she was 42. She had two other children, and guess what? She lied about her age on their birth certificates, too. Furthermore, she was not consistent about what year she gave. She seemed to think that she could be whatever age she felt like that day. Is that fun and quirky, or sad and deceitful?

There’s a lot of contradiction when it comes to age. Experience matters, and so does curiosity. We value both longevity and youth. We value truth and integrity, but penalize people for telling certain truths.

What do you think?