Turning Gray: Can we Embrace, Replace, and Give Grace?
At 60, I'm letting myself go gray. Barbie would approve.
(Note: After debating it for a few years, I’m finally letting my hair go gray! My trusted beautician said it will take about a year to do it “graycefully,” so this may be the first of several posts related to graying and aging.)
“You guys would fit right in here,” my daughter said with a chuckle, as we stepped out of the church building and toward the car.
My son joined in the banter. “Got that right. At least 80% of the crowd had gray hair!”
I rolled my eyes. Although I felt quite comfortable in the silver-haired church crowd we just left, I wasn’t sure I wanted to be counted as “one of them” just yet.
We’ve been looking for a church to attend while spending our summers in Minnesota. The first one we tried, as our kids pointed out, was a much older congregation. We wouldn’t have minded, but despite the big, inviting fellowship hall and coffee and donuts after church, not one person said “hello” to us. We decided to keep looking.
The second church we tried was much more inviting. Saying “hi” received a “Welcome!” Asking a simple question in the coffee line triggered a “Come sit at this table with me,” followed by a long conversation about the history of the church, and an exchange of details about each others’ work, family, and fish stories.
Still, after a few visits, something was bothering me. Like the first congregation, most attendees had gray hair. I would guess the average age of their 30-or-so-member choir was 72. Same for the men’s fellowship group that belted out a beautiful melody during their new organ dedication service. The bell choir and praise band were also in the over-50 category. While there was a smattering of younger families with children, they were by far the exception and not the rule. And the 20-something crowd? Practically non-existent.
So, why did it bother me that the congregation was…older? The questions rolling through my mind distracted me as I tried to listen to the sermon.
Am I an “Ageist”?
Ageism, like racism, is a form of prejudice, and I know I should be “above” those feelings. I appreciate the diversity of people, be it their skin color, ethnicity, sexual orientation, or age. And yet, my upbringing and the cultural forces that surround me still have an effect, and I admit I have underlying prejudices. Even though some of my dearest friends—wise women who have mentored me through many of life’s ups and downs—are in their 60s, 70s, and even 80s, when I look at an older person whom I don’t know, my natural tendency is to assume some level of weakness.
Why is that? Our society has it all wrong when it comes to age. Instead of valuing old age like Asian cultures do, we brush older adults aside and treat them as second-class citizens.
I recently saw the “Barbie” movie (if you haven’t seen it, go now!). One of my favorite scenes was when Barbie entered the real world and saw an older lady for the first time. She couldn’t help staring at her as they sat side by side on a bus stop bench. Stereotypical Barbie finally speaks to the older lady, softly saying, “You’re beautiful.” The lady responds with a smile and says “I know.”
PC: Screenshot YouTube/Warner Bros.
I love this scene not only for assigning “beauty” to a person who is NOT young and perfect but also because the older I get, the more I realize our society’s definitions of beauty and age are skewed. We can love and think of ourselves as beautiful, despite our imperfections, and precisely because of our age. Reportedly, producers wanted to cut this scene from the Barbie movie, but Greta Gerwig refused, saying that if it was cut, then she didn’t know what the movie was about. To Gerwig, this scene was the heart of the movie.
Still, the most moving part of the film for me was the monologue by America Ferrera’s character (Gloria). She gave a list of the many ways women feel pressured to be everything to everyone, and the contradictions we face at every turn. (Don’t worry, guys, there is plenty of sympathy and grace for you in the Barbie movie, too!) I could relate to so many of the pressures in my own life, but the line that tightened my throat most was, “You have to never get old.”
What am I afraid of?
As I looked around the church that day, I wondered, am I afraid of getting old?
I turned 60 this past year, and I admit I have qualms about joining the ranks of older persons. Is my aging body a sign of weakness? It’s true I sometimes feel like an old car, as the doctor-mechanics reach under the hood and replace one broken, worn-out part after another. If aches and pain are a sign of weakness, my battery might need a recharge.
Will others look at me and assume I’m incapable? Take the young man I spoke to recently on a customer service call line. I had ordered a replacement part and asked if I’d be able to install it myself. He said (without knowing my age), “Heck yeah. I once had a 50-year-old lady who even figured it out!” Hmmm…was he implying that 50-year-old ladies are generally incapable of simple tasks? Yikes.
If I let my hair go gray, will others see me as irrelevant? A Facebook friend recently reviewed the contenders in the Republican presidential debate. Regarding Asa Hutchinson, she wrote: [he’s] capable, experienced, pro-life, well-spoken, but also 72yo. We need to stop electing people who should be out playing golf. Really? So once a person hits their 70s, we should write off all of their positive characteristics and abilities, and send them out to the golf course? I don’t even play golf, so I guess they’ll just send me out to pasture.
I cherish my dear, “seasoned” friends. They continue to teach me, care about me, and make me laugh. I value our older citizens. The older I get, the more confident I am that the wisdom and life experiences we have to share are invaluable. We are not obsolete.
So why does it bother me that the church I’m attending Up North is of the older sort? Perhaps the biggest problem is not the abundance of gray-haired folk, but the noticeable lack of non-gray-haired folk. The decline in church attendance by the younger generations could be the subject of another lengthy blog post, so I will shelf that topic for another day. But, maybe that’s where my real discomfort lies.
My plan: Embrace, Replace, and Give Grace
How can we deal with prejudice and fears when it comes to aging?
For now, I will embrace my graying hair and sagging chin as a sign of my inner beauty—beauty that has grown from experiencing the trials and joys of a life that’s still worth living.
I’ll brag a little when this strong, old body can ride a bike more miles now than it could 20 years ago.
I’ll celebrate learning new skills, like using a drill, sewing a quilt, replacing refrigerator parts (thank you, YouTube), and self-publishing a book.
And I’ll share my thoughts and ideas with those who will listen, knowing I may not be cool and trendy, but what I have to say still matters.
I will replace our society’s skewed beliefs with these truths instead:
OLD = weak STRONG
OLD = incapable CAPABLE
OLD = irrelevant RELEVANT
Finally, I will give grace when I and others fall short.
when we make assumptions based on wrinkles and hair color.
when we yearn for our youthful days, forgetting to live in gratitude for today.
when we fail to love each and every person as a beautiful child of God.
If I could have a do-over for my response to my kids’ teasing on that Sunday morning, I’d take back the eye-roll. Instead, I’d lighten my step, toss my graying hair, and say, “I’m happy to fit in. And look forward to joining those distinguished, beautiful ranks!”