Life's Funny...Until It's Not™ - Episode 8 - Part 1 - Ageism

My dentist called me "Dear" twice at my last appointment. It's a small thing. It's also not.

In this first episode of a four-part series on ageism, I dig into elderspeak — the slower pace, the singsong tone, the terms of endearment people reach for the moment they decide you're "old." Researchers have been studying it since the 1980s, and it turns out it's not harmless: in nursing home research, patients were nearly twice as likely to resist care when staff used it instead of talking to them normally.

I also talk about the moment I realized I'd started noticing things I never used to — Google search results for "foundation over 60" and "jeans for women over 60" that made me feel invisible before I even understood why. And I ask the question I can't stop asking myself: when did we start needing a word for this?

This is Part 1 of 4. I don't have this figured out yet — I'm not sure anyone does. But I'd rather start the conversation than pretend I didn't notice.

Question of the Week: When was the last time someone's tone or word choice made you feel your age instead of just your name? I'd love to hear your story — leave a comment or find me at R2RB.com.

Life's Funny...Until It's Not™ is part of Out of the Attic Live From Delaware on the R2RB Network, airing Sundays at 7:00 PM EST.

Transcript

SPEAKER_00 0:06

Welcome to Life's Money Until It's Not. I'm Deb Amana and this is the space where we talk honestly about life as it really is. The good, the hard, the unexpected, and how we keep moving forward anyway. Each episode is broken into three parts. Each one stands on its own, but together they tell a bigger story. So whether you're listening straight through or catching just one segment, you're exactly where you're supposed to be. Let's start here. Life's funny until it's not ageism. This is where that conversation begins. I had a follow-up appointment with my new dentist recently. I'd already met with a wonderful dental hygienist, and while we waited for the dentist, we spent quite a bit of time talking about life. After waiting longer than expected, the dentist came in. I joked with him that I thought he had forgotten me, that my time was just as important as his. We laughed, reviewed the treatment plan, and everything seemed perfectly fine. Then, as he was leaving, he called me dear. I wasn't even sure I heard him correctly. A few moments later he said it again, and the second time I knew I hadn't imagined it. Would it have bothered me ten years ago? Honestly, I'm not sure, except that it did bother me now, knowing what I'd learned from my searches on ageism. Thinking about it on the drive home. He almost certainly didn't hear what he said. I did. Ageism can be so subtle that it passes by like a soft breeze on a summer evening. Then something makes you stop and realize it wasn't a breeze at all. It's a full on wait, what the heck just happened moment. There's a name for what my dentist did. I didn't know that until I went looking. It's called Elder Speak. Researchers have been studying it since the 1980s. It's the way people shift their speech when they've decided the person in front of them is old. The terms of endearment, the slightly slower pace, the sing song lift in the voice, the are we ready for our cleaning? When there is clearly only one of us getting a cleaning. Here's the part that stopped me. Research has found it isn't triggered by how a person actually behaves. It's triggered by cues, a gray hair, a cane, a birth year on a chart. The speech changes before you've said a word. And it isn't harmless. In nursing home research, residents with dementia were nearly twice as likely to resist care. Turning away, refusing food, pushing a caregiver's hand back. When staff used elder speak instead of talking to them normally. Same care, same people. Different tone of voice. That's not me scolding anyway. Most people who do it believe they're being warm. That's exactly what makes it so hard to see. Whether the dentist says dear to everyone or only to some of his patients really isn't the point. What surprised me was how differently that word landed with me now that it probably would have years ago. There was a time I likely wouldn't have given it a second thought. Now that I'm part of the 55 plus community, I find myself noticing things I've never noticed before. Some of us begin to feel invisible. For me, it started with a Google search for a foundation suited to my skin type, and ankles I have acquired over the years. Earned, actually. That's the better word. When I Googled foundation for a woman over 60, what the search returned were models much younger than I was. It wasn't until I reached the bottom of the page that I finally saw someone who looked more like me. At first it didn't register what I was saying. Then I remember doing a similar search for genes. When we get older, our bodies start to change. As if we hadn't gone through enough changes at this point. Maybe we've gained some weight, and that weight goes right where we don't want it. Having someone who looks like me matters at any age, whether you're twenty five or sixty five. Looking back now, I realize those searches weren't really about foundation or genes. They were about representation, who we see reflected back to us. The encouraging part is that I do see progress. Marketing is beginning to include people of different ages, ethnicities, and body types. There is still room to grow, but I see signs that companies are beginning to recognize that older adults want to see themselves represented too. Facebook and Instagram began showing me posts about ageism. I don't know, shocked, not shocked. Ageism? I wasn't sure I even knew what that meant. The more I read, the more curious I became. I had opened a door that I didn't even know existed. Did I realize I was becoming invisible? Being thought of differently? Being treated differently? Honestly, I didn't. I didn't even know those things would happen as we age. What does that even look like? Have you ever walked into a store and felt as though no one saw you? Have you ever wondered if people assumed you couldn't learn something new simply because of your age? Have family members stopped inviting you to certain activities because they thought you were too old to enjoy them? Those are the moments I'm talking about. I'm not your dear, hun, or sweetheart. Call me by my name. If I started calling a younger person kiddo, Bud, or Sweetie, they would probably think I was patronizing them. Respect should work both ways, regardless of age. I don't believe people use these terms to diminish anyone or to make someone feel like less of who they are. But when you're the one being addressed that way, it hits differently. Don't need to call out a person's age when we're talking to them. We need to acknowledge the person as an individual, not as an age. So what will I say to my dentist at the next appointment? Will I be able to say something at all? If I want to be part of changing this, then yes, I will. It will be a conversation and not a criticism. That way it opens the door for other conversations. Maybe others in that office speak to older patients the same way and don't realize it either. It's worth starting. I'd like to hear from you. Have you had a moment like mine? A word, a tone? A look that landed differently than it would have ten years ago. Maybe you brushed it off at the time. Maybe you're still thinking about it. I'd like to know because I suspect a lot of us have been quietly collecting these moments without ever saying them out loud. Next time I'm taking this into the exam room. If a dentist can call me dear on his way out the door, I want to know what happens when it's a doctor. It's your health and you're the one being talked around instead of talked to. I'm not finishing this episode with answers. I'm finishing it with a word that's stuck, and three more episodes to figure out why. Because once you start noticing the words people choose, you can't unnotice them. And noticing is where all of this begins. And this brings me to food for thought. This is the part of the show where I share something to sit with, not advice, not answers, just a perspective worth considering as we move through this season of life. This week, pay attention to how people address you. Not to catch anyone doing anything wrong. Most people have no idea they're doing it. Just notice the clerk at the pharmacy, a person on the phone from the insurance company, their server who calls everyone at the table by name except you. And here's the test I keep coming back to. Would they say it to someone thirty years younger? That's it. That's the whole exercise. You may find nothing, you may find you can't unhear it. Well and now what I'm learning. Which brings me to something I'm learning right now. This is where I share what I'm reading, thinking about or stumbling through. Because staying curious is one of the ways we keep ourselves engaged at this stage of life. I'm learning that I matter. That sounds like something I should have known already. Thought I did. But there's knowing it and there's noticing the small moments when someone quietly suggests otherwise. What I'm really learning is that I'd stop noticing. A word would go past me, I'd smile, and only later would I think, wait, getting older doesn't give anyone the right to make me feel like Wes. I know that part. What I'm still learning is how to say it out loud, in the moment, to a perfectly nice man in a white coat who has no idea what he just did. I'll leave that right there. Thank you for spending this time with me. If something here resonated with you, I hope you'll come back. You can find more stories, podcasts, and conversations at r2rv.com or catch out of the attic live from Delaware on Sundays at 7 PM Eastern Standard Time. Until next time, take good care of yourself and remember, even when life isn't funny, you don't have to go through it alone. Keep showing up for your life. It's still very much in progress. The question of the week When was the last time someone's tone or word choice made you feel your age instead of just your name? I love to hear how you responded. Share your story in the comments. Life's funny until it's not, and then somehow it gets funny again.