A friend of mine, who’s a generation younger, recently referred to me as an elder. When I reflected this back to her – “You might be the first person to call me an elder to my face” – she was horrified. 

To quote her text, “Wait, I didn’t mean elder as in old. I meant ‘movement elder,’ as in leader. I meant it as an honorific.” 

My response: “You don’t need to backpedal or apologize. It IS an honorific. I embrace the role – frankly, it’s a gift to be older – but watch out. You might trigger some Boomers!” Followed by a lot of LOLs.

Who are your elders?

I was born in 1957, the “boomiest” year (highest birth rate) of the Baby Boom. The older generations in my family were, for the most part, deceased or physically distant, so I had relatively little contact with adults older than my parents.

In most cultures throughout the world and throughout history, this would be a deeply unusual situation, but it wasn’t unusual in my suburban, mid-century American reality. Therefore, I didn’t grow up around many elders, in the traditional sense of the word. 

Mentors as elders

Once I began my career, things changed in subtle ways. 

I apprenticed to a variety of community organizers, artists, activists, fundraisers, and facilitators. Some were a few years older. Others were a generation or two ahead of me and had been doing the work for decades. Just by being around them, I learned a lot through osmosis.

They were my teachers, mentors, compadres, and in many ways, my elders. Who are yours?

Elderhood, ready or not

If you live long enough, elderhood will be thrust upon you, to paraphrase Shakespeare. My friend’s comment – she would prefer the word compliment – crystallized a conversation I’ve been having with myself for a few years. 

Indeed, when people ask me about semi-retirement, one of my answers has been, “I’m trying to figure out what it means to be an elder.” Here’s what I’ve figured out so far.

Practice humility

When we equate age with wisdom, we do so at our peril. If, as the saying goes, “There’s no fool like an old fool,” then old fools are doubly dangerous because they tend to have more authority and resources than their younger counterparts. 

Rule number one: show some humility. I say this as a consultant who offers advice for a living and carries enough privilege that people tend to take my suggestions seriously.

A cautionary note to myself, as well as my generational peers: you might know less than you think you do.

Good news! Here’s how you can turn that not-knowing into an asset.

Cultivate curiosity

As covered in a previous post, I’ve been conducting a listening project. From December 2023 through February 2024, I interviewed sixty fellow Jews to discuss their feelings and opinions about Israel and Palestine, Judaism, antisemitism, and related topics. For obvious reasons, many of these conversations were intimate and challenging.

About halfway through the interviews, something unexpected happened: I stopped being interested in my own opinion. The more I talked with others, the less I cared about having the “correct” position. 

I listened deeply to so many people. I found their multiplicity of experiences and perspectives complex and moving, even when (especially when) I disagreed with their conclusions. Rather than argue, I would say, “Tell me more.” 

I could not have facilitated this project at age 37 or 47. Back then, I was too certain of myself and my worldview. At 67, it’s become easier to choose curiosity over judgment.

Embrace gratitude

When my spouse and I sit down for dinner, the conversation inevitably touches on gratitude. We have lots of love and friendship, a nice home, good food to eat. We have meaningful work. We have woods outside our door and a big garden. Our neighbors look out for us, and we look out for them.

In some ways, these are also markers of privilege. There are people in our community (in all our communities, really) who lack adequate housing, food, and human support. 

This leaves me with two questions. How can I best use my privilege as a force for good? In an unjust world, how do we balance grievance and gratitude?

Here’s where I land: whenever possible, be grateful. 

This choice does not release us from the requirement to work for justice. Nonetheless, it’s much easier to sustain that work over a lifetime when it’s layered with gratitude.