What Does That Number Mean, Anyway?

 

Photo illustration by Sarina Finkelstein for Money magazine.

“Age is just a number.” Because of that number, I am classified as part of an age cohort and Generation (yes, with a capital G). But, my life philosophy—and the premise of this blog—is based on my belief that as long as I don’t know when I am going to die, I am in the middle of my life.

So, to invoke something a nun taught me (and a roomful of other kids) many years ago, a number—whether it’s age, income, the temperature or anything else—may not have a denotation, but we certainly give it a connotation or, in some cases many connotations 

For example,  a temperature of 10C (50F) doesn’t, by itself, mean much. But in my part of the world, it’s an unusually warm day in January or too cold for July.  And so it is with age:  35 is the youngest at which someone can become the US president, but by that age, gymnasts’ careers are long past. Heck, Eddy Merckx retired from bicycle racing two years before that milestone.

As for my age: Three days after my most recent birthday—which was also the 17th anniversary of my gender affirmation surgery—I was older than my maternal grandmother when she passed away. And today a former student, whom I taught during the last year I lived and worked as a man, celebrated a birthday. She is now as many years old as I was when she was in my class—in the Fall of 2002

When Jennifer (So many women around her age share that name!) was my student, almost anybody would have described her as “young” because of her age, which was typical of college students. I was at an age most people would have described as “middle.” I was, in the sense that I had experiences and knowledge even, if I do say so myself, I was “well-preserved” physically. But, in a sense, I was either very old or very young, in the sense that I knew full well that I was near the end of the life I’d been living and on the threshold of becoming who I am.

She is, in some ways (that I am aware of, anyway), if not older, then at least more evolved than I was at her age: She is aware of what she loves and needs in ways I was just learning. And she resisted pressures to follow a particular educational and career path in favor of one that aligns more closely with her skills and desires. I wouldn’t do anything like that until I was well past the age she was when I met her.

My grandmother, on the other hand, was a very old woman long before she reached my age. Her body began to break down, from a combination of genetics, poverty and lack of self- and other kinds of care, long before she reached Jennifer’s current age or mine when I met Jennifer. She nearly went blind a few years before she passed; she turned to the then-still-experimental technique of laser surgery (which her insurance wouldn’t pay for) in desperation. Thankfully, the procedure restored enough of her sight that she could do most of what she could do before, albeit with thick glasses.

So, what does the number of years we’ve been on this planet say about us? At my current age, I am old enough to have lived in a senior citizens’ building for more than two years. To many of my neighbors, however, I am a “kid.” My grandmother would almost surely see me the same way. When I was Jennifer’s age, I had been an adult, at least in the eyes of the law, for decades while she, as a student, had been one only a few years. But I was in a similar situation to hers in one way:  almost ready to embark upon a life based upon what I want and need rather than others’ expectations.

In other words, she and I were and are in the middle of our lives. So was my grandmother: Even as the rest of her body deteriorated, her sight was restored. She probably had no idea of how much more she would see, just as neither Jennifer nor I know how many days and experiences await us.

Midlife Changes

 

As I mentioned yesterday, Bruce Gerencser’s blog has been one of my regular reads for nearly a decade. For one thing, I enjoy his writing style, which I cannot emulate. For another, I admire his learnedness and sheer integrity. He was part of Evangelical churches almost from birth through the next fifty years 

and was a pastor for twenty-five of them. Like many clergy and lay members of such churches, he was a conservative Republican though, he says, that slowly changed. So did the way he defined and preached his Christianity.

The latter had much to do with his study of the Bible—about 20,000 hours’ worth, by his own reckoning. Finally, he left Christianity and faith altogether. As you can imagine, he has received many dismissive and even threatening letters and e-mails from self-professed Christians. Some say he was studying the wrong way. Others  say that it was a “midlife crisis” and he should get over it. Still others accuse him of becoming an atheist and humanist for personal glory or  monetary reasons.

From what I know of him, through reading his blog and corresponding with him, none of those charges make any sense. First of all, what is the “right” way to read or study the Bible, or to worship? As for fame and glory: Although the United States is nominally a secular country, religion, and Christianity in particular, is central to many of our institutions and people’s lives. So I don’t think becoming an atheist improved anyone’s social or economic standing. 

So, was he having a “midlife crisis?” Perhaps. If he was, so were many other people who changed their opinions or way of life based on what they’ve learned.  An example is how Gloria Steinem viewed transgender people. Like other second-wave feminists during the 1970s and 1980s, she was critical of us and said some of us chose gender reassignment surgery because of rigid gender roles imposed by patriarchy. Later, however, she publicly changed her stance, recognizing that transgenders and feminists share many of the same goals, including bodily autonomy and dismantling the very gender norms she previously believed to be the reason why we underwent surgery and other changes. 

People who changed their opinions are often accused of being weak “flip-floppers” or, worse, opportunists. If anything, I respect them for having the courage to continue learning and evolving, even doing so may result in a great personal cost. (I think also of how his pilgrimage to Mecca changed the way Malcolm X saw his faith, causing him to leave the Nation of Islam. Some say it led to his assassination.) They are nothing like those who abandon principles or, worse, betray those who loved and  trusted them only for personal gain. That is the opposite of integrity.

In brief, I have the utmost respect for people who are willing to learn and, if need be, change their behavior, beliefs or ways of life in the middle of their lives. There are many such people whose names I will never know. But I am glad that others, like Malcolm, Gloria—and Bruce—have given us, in one form or another, accounts of their journeys.

Perhaps they did, after all, have a “midlife crisis.” But sometimes a “crisis” is exactly what we need to become better, or at least more authentic, versions of ourselves.