If we overcome our prejudices and misconceptions about the elderly, we can learn what
really matters in life just by talking with them, says Wendy Lustbader, author,
grandmother and nationally recognized expert on aging.
In fact, forget the term "elderly". There is no such thing, she says. The word
implies a group of people who have something in common when actually we become less like
others as we age.
"A group of five-year-olds are a lot alike, but a group of 85-year-olds has very little
in common.. we become more individualized," says Lustbader.
Imagine then, the infinite number of unique life experiences and perspectives embodied
in old people all around us, a virtual treasure trove from which anyone genuinely
interested in listening can draw profound examples of how - and how not - to live.
How much you profit by talking to old people depends on your attitude, says Lustbader.
"Approach an elder in a patronizing, sing-song voice and you probably won't get very much..
approach with true interest and respect and you'll get a lot."
Use the same general rules of conversation with elders as with other adults, she
advises: Resist calling someone you have just met "dear" or "honey", and do not ask how
"we" are today. Avoid assumptions of any kind; don't assume, for example, you need to
yell to enable an old person to hear you. Watch your posture and don't tower over those
in wheelchairs.
Above all, "wake up to the truth that elders are just people who have gotten older with
all the distinctiveness and interesting points of view as anyone else," she says.
Don't discount those living with dementia; they, too, have something to say. Long-term
memory is their strength, so speak to it, says Lustbader.
"Even people who are in very advanced stages of dementia can often talk about their
childhoods and youth with incredible lucidity," she says.
"Young and old typically have little but superficial contact with each other. We let
appearances deceive us and dismiss what our elders have to teach us even before we give
them a chance to speak. Thus, we forfeit the wisdom accumulated through lifetimes."
- Wendy Lustbader,
from What's Worth Knowing
The surprising discovery of her own interest in talking with elders launched Lustbader's
career as a geriatric social worker. Despite growing up around beloved grandparents,
including one with Alzheimer's, she had absorbed many of society's prejudices toward
old people by the time she began studying social work in graduate school. Though
geriatrics "was probably the last thing" she wanted to pursue, tuition was free for social
work students majoring in aging.
"The catch was you had to do your placement in a nursing home. I remember thinking,
'Oh boy, what a high price to pay for free tuition'," says Lustbader.
Her attitude changed with her first work assignment, interviewing residents about their
personal histories.
"The very first resident I spoke with completely blew me away," she recalls.
Armed with a list of cut-and-dried questions, she began with Mrs. Brown (known simply
by staff as "the lady with the stroke in 208"). With a tired voice, Mrs. Brown gave even
drier responses as described in Lustbader's book, What's Worth Knowing:
I pulled up a chair close to her wheelchair and asked where she was from.
"Kansas," she said. How long had she been in Seattle? "Since I retired." What had she
retired from? "Secretarial work." We both fell silent.
Then, Lustbader abandoned her prepared questions and injected herself into the
conversation. She recounted her own trip across Kansas and remarked how boring it must
have been to grow up there. Mrs. Brown came alive.
"That's not how it was," she interjected with a strong voice, somewhat indignantly. "We
had a lot of fun."
She became more and more animated, describing the warm bricks from the fireplace that
were put under quilts for the long, winter nights, and the smell of the bread her mother
would bake all day, once a week, at the huge wood stove in her kitchen. We were both
enchanted; she with the rush of memories and I with the sense of moving back in time to a
way of life that had vanished. We stopped only because it was time for lunch. She grabbed
my hand when I stood up to leave and said, "No one has listened to me like that in years."
With that, Lustbader was committed to gerontology. She spent the next two decades
working with elders, including 19 years as a mental health counselor at Pike Market
Medical Clinic in Seattle. Today she is an affiliate assistant professor at the
University of Washington School of Social Work. She also lectures around the country on
topics related to chronic illness, aging, and the needs of family caregivers.
"Older people have given me a sense of living life with deep perspectives," she says.
"There I was in my twenties spending most of my time with people in their eighties and nineties, so I
gained a sense of life as a whole."
In 2001, Lustbader incorporated the best of what she had learned from talking with
elders into her inspiring book, What's Worth Knowing - the purpose of which "is to awaken
people to the gold mines present all around them," she says.
Unfortunately, the golden wisdom of elders is largely un-mined in today's society. She
describes a 99-year-old friend who lives in a retirement home. Completely lucid, the
woman can vividly recount the horse and buggy days in downtown Seattle during the turn of
the 20th Century. There ought to be a long line of people waiting to talk to this woman,
yet she has few visitors, says Lustbader.
"I'm sad that in her lifetime we still haven't changed the culture of aging in America,"
she concludes.
