As many of you know, I coach my sons in sports. After last week's game, one of the other player's parents sent me some video highlights and pictures of the kids. As I sifted through them, I was stunned. STUNNED, I say! To be clear, I wasn't amazed by the athletic prowess of the kids, although it was impressive. I was not shocked by the impeccable game planning and strategic play calling, although I was definitely in the zone. What surprised me, you ask?
I was taken aback by a white-haired older man being among the sea of forty-something parents.
Was he someone's grandparent? Perhaps an older uncle or family friend? He was clearly the odd man out and the unicorn of the group.
Oh yeah, he was ME!
WHEN DID I BECOME OLD? OR AT LEAST OLD LOOKING?
Yes, I know my age; it's printed on my driver's license. Of course, I know what I look like. Heck, my wife and kids heckle me to use my "senior discount" wherever we go.
So, yes, I know I am 55, but I do not see myself as 55.
Again, when did I become old?
In an article in Atlantic Monthly entitled The Puzzling Gap Between How Old You Are and How Old You Think You Are, author Jennifer Senior explains why I am not alone in this phenomenon. In fact, it is pretty common.
THIS PHENOMENON IS CALLED SUBJECTIVE AGE, AND IT'S MORE COMMON THAN YOU MIGHT THINK. JUST WAIT. NO REALLY, JUST WAIT AND YOU WILL EXPERIENCE IT.
She states, "When most people look in the mirror, they are not so much unhappy with his appearance as startled by it—as if there's been some sort of error. You cognitively know your age, but can't actually comprehend it."
Subjective age refers to how young or old individuals experience themselves in relation to health, behavioral, cognitive, and biological processes that influence frailty.
That settles it; I'm 42. Not just as a person, but as a teacher. I am mid-way through my career and life.
I must be.
I have so much to do and even more to learn. I still can't teach improv, I never mastered facilitating woodwind articulation, and I have about ten masterworks I have yet to conduct. I can't possibly have 32 years behind me. I am still a work in progress, which is far from complete.
But, complete or not, the picture does not lie.
Do you wonder about that too?
When did you cross the line between beginning teacher and an experienced vet? When did you step away from being a mentee to becoming a mentor? When did you stop being a team member to become a team leader? Or, when did you decide to go from constituent to board member?
These transitions are rarely seminal moments with the accompanying fanfare, and there is typically never a coronation or celebratory event. There are no grand promotions, new business cards, or write-ups on LinkedIn, which is one of the complex parts of being a teacher. So they often go unnoticed, not just by others, but by ourselves.
That doesn't make them any less meaningful or important. Nor are these moments and accomplishments something to minimize, trivialize, or ignore. They are significant moments that are to be cherished and honored.
While we accomplish and achieve great things, we see these feats as obligatory, part of the job, and all in a day's work.
Subjective age disorder strikes again, separating the truth of what we did from how we feel concerning our age.
Yes, in the picture and in life, I am the unicorn. The only grey-haired person on the sideline. However, I am the one who has the energy, drive, and desire to coach. While my time in a classroom may be done, my time working with kids is not, and my best work is still ahead of me.
I know this because I am 42. I am sure of it, and you can't convince me otherwise.
How old are you?
Have a great week.
Scott