Cindy Kelly likes to be approached with a “Hi, how are you?” or a “May I help you today?” Call her “dearie” and you‘ll make her cringe. Photo: Réjean Brandt
When entering a store or a coffee shop, Cindy Kelly likes nothing more than to be approached with a simple, neutral sentence: “Hi, how are you? Can I help you today?” Most times, that‘s what happens. But on some thankfully rare occasions, she is addressed in a way that makes her cringe, such as “Hello, dearie!” or “Hello, you young ones!”
“I take it with a grain of salt,” she says. “The person is doing their job — at least I‘ve been greeted. Maybe the person doesn‘t know any better.”
Kelly, who lives in Winnipeg, has been vigilant about the manifestations of ageism, which the World Health Organization defines as stereotypes, prejudice and discrimination based on age. She makes a point of respectfully raising her concerns to companies that don‘t feature older people in their advertising campaigns, for instance, and has boycotted some of them.
When dealing with annoying or hurtful words that pop up in conversations, she will only speak up if she finds it excessive, to the point of feeling uncomfortable. That happened once, at a bakery where a sales associate would end every sentence with “Miss.”
“After the 10th ‘Miss,‘ I said, ‘Please don‘t address me as Miss,‘” recalls Kelly, who received an apology. “Maybe for that person it was a teaching moment, an awareness moment.”
Fighting words can seem like an uphill battle, not only because they are ingrained in culture and education, but also because people often mean well. Mélanie Levasseur, a professor at the Université de Sherbrooke‘s Faculty of Medicine and Health Sciences, remembers a conversation with a caregiver who had called a woman “my beautiful little elder” and didn‘t understand why she was offended.
“It is important, when interacting with people — even more so now, with the acknowledgment of diversity — to ask them [what] they want to be called,” says Levasseur, who was also involved in a Quebec initiative to counter ageism.
Drop the ‘dear‘
When Federal Retirees asked its members what names they hated, answers ranged from “ma‘am,” “honey” or “sweetie,” to more descriptive terms, such as “seniors” or “the little lady.” Being addressed by their first name, or as “tu,” were also mentioned as irritants. Respondents had different combinations of words they rejected and tolerated, underlining the difficulty of finding one that resonates with everyone.
“Dear,” however, was widely unpopular for its patronizing and infantilizing undertones.
“I do get called “dear” once in a while, which I can‘t stand, especially when it is somebody really young who‘s patting me on the shoulder,” says Ottawa‘s Maggie Mamen. “I don‘t mind being called a baby boomer. I really don‘t like the term elderly. It would be nice if there were a better term to describe people beyond middle age.”
In 2017, the Journal of the American Geriatrics Society announced it would require authors to use the term “older adults” when referring to people aged 65. It also made suggestions for respectfully discussing or describing them. Instead of calling the growing share of older people in the population a “tsunami” (as in the phrase “grey tsunami”), for instance, the emphasis could be on Americans living longer and healthier lives, it said.
‘A vehicle for ageism‘
“Dehumanizing attitudes are built into the words we use to talk about aging,” says Andrea Charise, an associate professor and associate chair of research in the Department of Health & Society of the University of Toronto Scarborough.
Looking at the “grey tsunami” example, which often comes up in the media, “its terrifying image of a monstrous wave poised to break over our heads is striking and urgent, but it transforms real living people into a many-headed catastrophe: financial, social, cultural,” Charise says. “I‘m heartened to see a major medical journal making such a public commitment to examining the language of aging as a vehicle for ageism.”
In Quebec, the government uses the terms “aînés” (elders), and at times “nos aînés” (our elders).” Levasseur, who is also a researcher at the Sherbrooke-based Research Centre on Aging and has spent two decades working on the social participation of older adults, says most people in her research groups don‘t identify with the word. It is perceived negatively, she adds.
In a society that values youth to the extreme, not wanting to be considered old and in decline is hardly surprising.
And yet, Charise stressed, there is more to take away in that rejection. What is often left unsaid is that “we, as a society, have tended to collapse ‘aging‘ and ‘oldness‘ with terribly fatalistic, isolating, undesirable qualities.”
Updating the language
To be fair, there is probably no perfect word to describe the 7.3 million Canadians above the age of 65. A newborn and a teenager have very different realities, yet older adults with an age difference that can span decades get lumped together into one category, Levasseur points out.
“We are all different, and we all get old someday,” says Hélène Nadeau, vice-president of the board of Federal Retirees. “What I don‘t like with descriptions of ‘the elderly‘ is the amalgam. This is not a homogenous group. There is a U.S. president who is 80.”
The Journal of the American Geriatrics Society was not alone in rethinking its terminology. A note on Statistics Canada‘s website explains that a page previously called “Seniors and aging” was updated to “Older adults and population aging.”
In other parts of government, however, outdated language persists. Just ask Ginette Fillion. When she turned 65, the Gatineau, Que., resident became eligible for the federal government‘s Old Age Security pension program, a name that didn‘t sit well with her.
“When I got the form, my first reaction was: ‘I‘m not old!‘” Fillion says. “Back when it started, not many people made it to 65. But now, you are not old at 65.” She believes it is time to rename the program.
Invisibility
Rick Devlieger, of Duncan, B.C., didn‘t have any particularly annoying words to pitch in the Federal Retirees‘ survey. But he knows some can be upsetting. He still remembers the feeling from many years ago, when, as a recently promoted master seaman trying to establish gravitas, he was referred to as a “young man.”
Since then, nothing has really bothered him — including “dear,” which he has been called.
“I always go with the intention behind the words [rather than] listen to what the actual words,” he says. “If you make it difficult for people to refer to you, people stop referring to you.”
That would be akin to invisibility, another symptom of ageism. But back in Ottawa, Mamen is confident that won‘t happen. Not with the Baby Boomer Generation, now aged 58 to 77.
“The old view of people who are [in their 70s] has to change. All [my] friends are very active. We don‘t just sit in a rocking chair with a cat and read a book,” she says. “We were the leading edge in feminism, the leading edge in lots of things. We‘re not a generation to be put away.”