Response to "What is respect for the elderly"?

The question of what is meant by "respect for the elderly" got sidetracked a little, I fear, by the fact that it was originally inspired by a letter about dealing with bigoted relatives. No matter how much I wanted it to be a fresh question, people kept going back to the initial question of bigotry. So we got a lot of folks saying that respect for the elderly doesn't mean putting up with bigoted or hateful language, which is true. We also got a few folks pointing out that you aren't required to put up with abuse from your family members, which is also true. (The New York Times had a good blog article a while back about breaking up with one's parents. This is a drastic step, but it's one I wish more people would at least think seriously about taking.)

Of course, I wasn't talking about respect for bigoted, abusive old people, just regular old old people, and the general consensus seemed to be that the two things that most define "respect for the elderly" are 1) having patience with the physical limitations of the old, and 2) listening to them. Old Marian writes:

I am elderly. I don't move as fast or as easily as I used to. I really appreciate young people who make allowances for my physical limitations -- yes, I like a seat on the subway, some help traversing snowbanks, the realization that my cane and I are not going to cross the street as quickly as on-coming cars might wish. But why should anyone give in to my opinions or demands for non-physical aspects of life? I never could understand how just surviving longer made me more deserving of intellectual respect. I hope I'm wiser than I once was, but on any particular subject I might be wrong, and I'd enjoy more information, a spirited discussion, and perhaps enlightenment.

1. You watch what you say in front of elderly people. As in, I wouldn't swear in front of my Grandmother, or Mother, for that matter. However, I think you change your speech to suit circumstances constantly, so the elderly is just another group catered to. (classroom, work, bar, in-laws, family, friends, children, etc.) 2. You make sure they are comfortable, physically. This means, giving up your seat on the train, holding your Grandma's arm when you walk into a restaurant so she doesn't slip, getting your Grandma/Grandpa's coat/sweater/blanket for them when they are cold, getting them a cup of tea. I mean, I'm sure you would do these things for other people, too, you just usually pay a little more attention to these things when it comes to the elderly.

I agree with the idea that a lot of this is paying attention to context, as well as to individuals.

bluemoose writes beautifully about the experience of listening:

For me, it means listening. Not to bigoted tirades, but to the stories of people who have lived far longer than I have and who have experienced first-hand some of the events that I, as an historian, read and write about.

I deal directly with many local historical societies, few of which have anyone under 40 in their organization (and frankly, many of them would feel lucky to have someone under 60 on board). Meetings with them are not the quick, concise, professional, clipped affairs I may sometimes wish. Not only do many of the participants move more slowly, but most of them want to tell us the stories of the place, their memories of events, the reasons the historic places in town are meaningful to them. It behooves me to listen, as this is not history I will find in printed sources, and it gets to the heart of why I do what I do. I respect that I have something to learn from people who have lived much longer than I have, and that respect in turn earns me some of theirs as an "expert" in my field.

Nancy G also focuses on the community aspect: we honor our own history and communities by honoring the people who lived and created them.

I think the best way to examine this is to look at cultures in which the elderly are revered like in China or Africa or Japan. The logic of it is that older people (not necessarily "elders," but elder to you) have a wealth of experience and perspective that is useful to us as a society and as individuals. Elders are our institutional memory and the keepers of the history, rituals and traditions that sustain us. In that sense, respecting your elders means respecting your community. In that context, respecting your elders means making sure that, in the rush to the new and modern, their voices are heard and their physical, social and emotional needs are taken care of.

That this kind of "respecting your elders" would benefit everyone is clear. Nice work, Nancy G! Irish Tweed breaks down the question of "respect" a little further:

I've long held the belief that there is a keen difference between dignity and respect in relating to others. My fundamental belief is that every human being, regardless of age, physical or mental capability, is to be treated as having dignity by virtue of their human-ness.

On the other hand, respect is something earned. It comes from categories of both knowledge and behavior that garner regard because of the choices and/or efforts required to attain a particular status (i.e. teacher, doctor, clergy, etc.). When such knowledge or behavior is conducted in a manner that's unworthy of trust, respect is lost, even though inherent dignity is maintained. None of us is 'better' than another; perhaps, some are more fortunate or have made wiser decisions, but when the questions arises, I come back to the distinction between dignity and respect. If I am worthy of respect, I hope to receive it. I, like all others, however, am worthy of the dignity of civil treatment at the least, because I belong to the human family.

cosmogirl points out that belonging to the human family may sometimes mean not feeling all that grown up, and that respect for the elderly might involve recognizing that the generational gulf isn't all that big a deal:

I think it's recognizing that society tends to overlook/ignore/diminish this group, so you should be aware of it and don't do it yourself. Just treat them like "any other person". (Because they are!)

Keep in mind that the people in their 80s today were in their 20s during WWII. You should hear my mom's friends' stories about partying in Scollay Square with all the soldiers and sailors on leave. Sounded like Sex in the City! They loved "their" music and dancing as much as we love ours.

I'm in my 50s now and I swear I do not feel any different than I did in my 20s. So, I now realize that will probably be true when I'm in my 80s, too! (Still listening to rock and roll, of course.)

So, I guess what I'm saying is don't treat the elderly like children. Listen to them. And do help them out (shoveling their steps, carrying in their groceries, etc.) when you can. I always say that if it was my mom, I would want someone to help her if I wasn't there.