One Sunday while teaching the Primary children (ages 3-11) during singing time, I shared a story regarding a childhood memory. I finished the anecdote by mentioning my age at the time, which was about five years old.
One of the kids piped up with the query, “How old are you now?” Without hesitation, I responded, “I’m forty-two.”
One of the Primary teachers felt inclined to add his two cents, remarking that asking someone’s age is not polite. Which sort of annoyed me. Because clearly, I failed to be embarrassed by the question.
And why should anyone be? Aging is inevitable. At what point do we decide that rather than “celebrate” another year of getting older and wiser, we need to conceal it from the general public? It’s just plain weird to me.
It didn’t help the matter that the teacher who “silenced” the child was a twenty-something male. Perhaps he was trying to be sensitive to the fact that women are often particularly averse to the aging process.
Not this woman.
The problem is, if people (and women, particularly) shy away from revealing our age, it only perpetuates the idea that old age is worthy of our disdain.
So while I may not shout my age from the rooftops, I will do my part to remove its stigma by giving inquiring minds a straight answer. Especially kids, who should never be made to feel ashamed by the simple curiosity of asking someone how old he/she is.
If I’m not ashamed to answer, hopefully they won’t be when they’re “old” like me.
I agree with you. Besides as kids learn numbers and try to get a sense of scale and time, it is good for them to have an image in their head to tie to an age.
Glad someone does. Jeesh, the obsession with age makes me crazy sometimes. I love that you somehow found a way to make my rant “good for the children”. Such an educator. 🙂