Latest news with #oldage
News.com.au
4 days ago
- General
- News.com.au
Gen Z thinks you're ‘old' at this insultingly early age
A survey by US education firm Edubirdie — which polled 2000 Gen Z and young Millennials, defined as those born in the late '90s and early 2000s — dared to ask the younger generations the question, 'When does old age really start?' For 22 per cent of Gen Zers, they think that by the time you've reached 35, you're toast. An additional 26 per cent believe that 40 is the true marker of elderliness. Thus, almost half of Gen Z thinks that anything over the age of 40 is old. Meanwhile, only a quarter of people tend to go grey under 40. Admittedly, a sizeable 31 per cent portion of Gen Z respondents reportedly believe that oldness sets in at 60, making for a more conventional vision of senility. This disproportionately large percentage of Zoomers who believe old age begins at 35 is likely due to a generational fixation on youth, fast-paced trends and appearance, some say. 'I feel like Gen Zers tie a lot of their identity to their youth and look at millennials as the older wise men, and wise women. And, while I do appreciate that, I'm also just, like, we're only, like, five years from where you are,' Mike Mancusi, a 34-year-old comedian who created a recent viral TikTok on the Gen Z and Millennial divide, recently told Newsweek. 'I'm sure every single generation feels this way about the younger generation. I seriously doubt this is a unique generational relationship,' he said. In a Reddit thread on the subject, the generations battled it out to decide whether or not the 22 per cent of Gen Zers are simply living life day-by-day, with no consideration for their own — apparently impending ageing — or if there's a point to the polled pandemonium. 'Hey Gen Z. Millennial here with a friendly reminder that you'll be old before you even know it,' warned a decidedly bitter commenter. 'They say this now until it's time for them to be in their 30s, and the next generation calls them old at that age,' agreed another. While some Zoomer Redditors didn't mince their words, others offered respectful words to the wise about their elders. '30 is old. 30 is basically half your life,' reasoned one reply — although, logically speaking, that seems like it would make 30 middle-aged. While a significant portion of surveyed Gen Zers thought that people in their 30s were old, others curiously called out 27 as an 'old' age marker. 'I had a Zoomer intern last summer call a 27-year-old 'old'… Perspective is weird,' reflected an older Millennial. 'I'm 22, and I see anyone older than like 27 as old,' another commenter wrote. 'I think it's hard to argue that 35 is 'old' but by that age, you're certainly not young,' one thorough thinker explained. 'It's definitely a little stifling to be in a place with a younger crowd and see 35+ adults trying to party with all the people in their early 20s. Like I expect to be married with children by the time I'm 35, and even if I'm not, I understand that it's time for me to move on from the activities I did in my 20s.' As more and more Gen Zers enter the workforce and 'adult life,' some expect that they'll change their minds about the mid-30s cut-off for youth. After all, the infamously sober generation is consuming more alcohol than ever before, leaving behind their 'grandma core' ways, so perhaps anything could happen — there may be hope yet for all of the greying Millennials out there.
Yahoo
7 days ago
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Gen Z thinks you're ‘old' at this insultingly early age — you might already be ‘over the hill' and not know it: new study
These stats didn't age well. A recent survey by Edubirdie — which polled 2,000 Gen Z and young Millennials, defined as those born in the late '90s and early 2000s — dared to ask the younger generations the question, 'When does old age really start?' 22% of Gen Zers think that by the time you've reached 35, you're toast. An additional 26% believe that 40 is the true marker of elderliness. Thus, almost half of Gen Z thinks that anything over the age of 40 is old. Meanwhile, only a quarter of people tend to go gray under 40. Admittedly, a sizeable 31% portion of Gen Z respondents reportedly believe that oldness sets in at 60, making for a more conventional vision of senility. This disproportionately large percentage of Zoomers who believe old age begins at 35 is likely due to a generational fixation on youth, fast-paced trends and appearance, some say. 'I feel like Gen Zers tie a lot of their identity to their youth and look at millennials as the elder wise men, and wise women. And, while I do appreciate that, I'm also just, like, we're only, like, five years from where you are,' Mike Mancusi, a 34-year-old comedian who created a recent viral TikTok on the Gen Z and Millennial divide, recently told Newsweek. 'I'm sure every single generation feels this way about the younger generation. I seriously doubt this is a unique generational relationship,' he said. In a Reddit thread on the subject, the generations battled it out to decide whether or not the 22% percent of Gen Zers are simply living life day-by-day, with no consideration for their own — apparently impending aging — or if there's a point to the polled pandemonium. 'Hey Gen Z. Millennial here with a friendly reminder that you'll be old before you even know it,' warned a decidedly bitter commenter. 'They say this now until it's time for them to be in their 30s, and the next generation calls them old at that age,' agreed another. While some Zoomer Redditors didn't mince their words, others offered respectful words to the wise about their elders. '30 is old. 30 is basically half your life,' reasoned one reply — although, logically speaking, that seems like it would make 30 middle-aged. While a significant portion of surveyed Gen Zers thought that people in their 30s were old, others curiously called out 27 as an 'old' age marker. 'I had a Zoomer intern last summer call a 27-year-old 'old'… Perspective is weird,' reflected an older Millennial. 'I'm 22, and I see anyone older than like 27 as old,' another commenter wrote. 'I think it's hard to argue that 35 is 'old' but by that age, you're certainly not young,' one thorough thinker explained. 'It's definitely a little stifling to be in a place with a younger crowd and see 35+ adults trying to party with all the people in their early 20s. Like I expect to be married with children by the time I'm 35, and even if I'm not, I understand that it's time for me to move on from the activities I did in my 20s.' As more and more Gen Zers enter the workforce and 'adult life,' some expect that they'll change their minds about the mid-30s cutoff for youth. After all, the infamously sober generation is consuming more alcohol than ever before, leaving behind their 'grandma core' ways, so perhaps anything could happen — there may be hope yet for all of the graying Millennials out there. Solve the daily Crossword
Telegraph
09-07-2025
- General
- Telegraph
Why Britain should emulate the way the ancients treated the elderly
Old age – the 'winter' of life – is often depicted as 'sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything'. But as Barbara H Rosenwein, an American historian and author of Winter Dreams: A Historical Guide to Old Age, aims to show us: the 'elderly have always retained their emotional depth and desires.' (I hate the word 'elderly'. It reminds me of the highway sign with two stooped figures, designed apparently, to protect us Senior Railcard Holders. We are not 'stooped'!) Rosenwein is 80 years old, has two children, five grandchildren and calls herself a 'historian of the emotions'. In Winter Dreams, she hurtles through two millennia to chronicle how society feels about the aged – and how they feel about themselves. She begins with the older women within her own family. Immediately she finds contrasts: her grandmother thought herself old at 60 and moved into a retirement home, while her mother-in-law saw herself as young even in her 80s, dying her hair red and swimming everyday. She taught art to 'old' people and had a martini before dinner. Her girlfriends – 'the Elegant Eight' – regularly went to the movies and concerts together. Rosenwein's own mother had dementia and lived in a fantasy world, believing herself loved and in love with a fantasy man. Rosenwein writes: 'This fantasy, this 'winter dream' in the last season of her life, gave her great joy'. (Ah, there's her title, which initially did confuse me: she refers to both nightly and aspirational dreams in her book. But it's also nicely lyrical, and I believe Rosenwein uses it, mostly, to mean the ideal scenarios elders 'dream' of – and hope for – as life nears its end.) Her historical deep-dive starts in Ancient Greece, which sounds like the ideal place to go and retire. Sons were mostly expected to care for their elderly parents; Homer provided 'satisfying visions of old men… (who) basked in the admiration of other men and looked back on a lifetime's achievements with pride'. Socrates acknowledged the wisdom of the elderly, saying: 'I enjoy talking with the very old, for we should ask them, as we ask those that have travelled a road that we too will probably have to follow, what kind of road it is.' Such responsible attitudes towards the old were legally enforced when Solon, the Athenian poet, aristocrat and statesman, instituted a family-financed social security for the aged called 'gerotrophia': elder care. 'Citizens who neglected their parents lost their right to citizenship: a severe punishment.' But no one had ever dared hope for such an outcome. Before Solon's time, in 700 BC, Hesiod predicted a dire fate for the old: the young would 'treat their parents with disdain as soon as they are old', he wrote, 'heartlessly finding fault with them – and they'll not be likely to repay their parents for their care.' That could easily be a story in today's Britain. Similarly, Sophocles's children wanted him declared mentally incompetent. To prove the contrary, Sophocles read to lawyers from his latest play about Oedipus, whose children turn their backs on him. Oedipus is able to look back on his life and pronounce it blameless (indeed, a happy 'winter dream'). The judges acquitted him. Echoing down through the ages, Rosenwein reminds us of Cicero's 'extraordinarily upbeat account of old age'. Set in 150 BC, in the voice of the severe Censor Cato – supposedly expounding his views in his 84th year, though they were essentially those of Cicero himself – Cato declares he 'is contented…. still active intellectually, mentally and politically' and believes everyone else can be so, if they have lived 'honourably and well'. (That's Sir David Attenborough to a T, then.) Of course, the ancients mostly explored the male approach to ageing, but there were some exceptions. The poet,Sappho, mourned her losses: 'For me old age has seized my once tender body… How often I lament these things, but being human, one cannot escape old age.' Euripides, in his play Hecuba, described, unusually, the emotional range of an old woman. At the start of the play, Hecuba is weak, decrepit; all in all, a helpless cry baby. But by the end, she's a powerful orator, strategist and murderer, overturning the ancient prejudice against what Rosenwein describes as 'exhausted old women'. Hurrah, too, for Aristophanes – the Father of Comedy – his play, Women of the Assembly, sees women disguise themselves as men and take over the Athenian assembly, declaring total equality, the abolition of private property, the eradication of marriage and ability to have free sex. (Aristophanes often made fun of the elderly in his plays and yet also made ageing sound quite jolly.) In more recent times, the native people of the Great Lakes (between southern Canada and northern USA), the Ojibwe, provide an exemplary picture of old age. Rosenwein cites Michael D McNally's sympathetic account of these elders: 'Ojibwe', he observes 'consider old age to be the high point of a life well spent… Only an old man or woman has the power and authority necessary to impart the traditions of the tribe and to pass their expertise to the younger generation.' I'm a similar age to Rosenwein and our generation, born post-war, are now undeniably old – but we're spectacularly different from any geriatrics that have tottered by before us. I can still see my grandparents, sitting in deckchairs on the beach. Grandad had a hankie on his head, trousers rolled up; Grandma was knitting. No chance they'd ever strip off and dive into the sea. It was a miracle if they paddled. According to Rosenwein, they were the 'Old Old' – weak and dependent (one of two categories Rosenwein comes up with), while the 'Young Old' are fit, engaged, working and sociable. She's talkin' 'bout my generation. We were the first to be health-aware: we went for the burn with Jane Fonda, in leg-warmers and headbands; played squash, jogged, gave up smoking, ate yoghurt, wholemeal bread and made salads with olive oil. We didn't think about ageing or death – we just wanted to feel great. Rosenwein herself believes her literal 'dreams' are darker and more vivid than they were 10 years ago. 'The other night, I dreamed I was back at my old university and couldn't find my classroom. I was late and in the wrong building. I panicked and woke up, heart pounding,' she writes. I understand that. My own dreams, until quite recently, were optimistic, joyful. A recurring theme was jumping up and touching the sky. But lately, my dreams have been about loss, being late; I'm chased by something malevolent, or holding a baby (not my own). I know exactly where that turn has come from. My husband has Alzheimer's and now my life as a carer makes me fearful of the future, the uncertain road ahead and whether I'll be able to cope. I've also realised that now, I think about death every day. Not necessarily morbidly, but just practically. For instance, if I'm doing a cross-country drive or taking a long flight, I think: 'What if I don't come back?' 'Who will miss me?' And: 'should I tidy up my knicker drawer, just in case?' As Rosenwein argues, and so astutely, 'the winter dreams of the elderly showed they were a lot more than father figures to whom reverence was due. They were people with emotions and concerns of their own.' Eumaeus, for example, was a slave of Odysseus and depended on his master to take care of him during his old age. His 'winter dream' was 'a farm of his own and a beautiful, virtuous wife'. This is the 'near universal feeling that crosses the historical divides' of the old, Rosenwein concludes: 'the desire to live as long and as healthily as possible.' A 'winter dream' to which, surely, we all aspire. Winter Dreams is a meaty, satisfying meal of a book and I learned a great deal. I only disagreed with Rosenwein's assertion that the poem by Jenny Joseph, 'Warning', is, somehow, aspirational. A woman who declares that she'll 'gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells… learn to spit… grow more fat and eat three pounds of sausages at a go'? No thanks! And, apart from Aristophanes, there are few references to the importance of humour in facing old age. We can't change how the world sees us, but we will certainly have a happier old age if we can agree with the poet John Betjeman, who understood the importance of humour in his poem 'The Last Laugh': I made hay while the sun shone. My work sold. Now, if the harvest is over And the world cold, Give me the bonus of laughter As I lose hold. But I believe the best practical advice about ageing was given by Dorothy to her flighty housemate, Blanche, in the legendary US sitcom, The Golden Girls, about four older women navigating the 'winter' of life together. As Blanche sets off nervously on a date, Dorothy places a mirror on the table and orders her to look down into it, announcing: 'See? That's what you look like when you go on top! Never go on top!' Less a 'winter dream' – more a complete nightmare! ★★★★☆
Yahoo
09-06-2025
- General
- Yahoo
The volunteers helping seniors combat poverty, loneliness and shame
Most people want to grow old - after all, the alternative is worse - but few want to be old, burdened by loneliness, isolation and the looming risk of poverty. "We thought: nobody is interested in old people," says Griseldis Ellis, who runs a foundation to combat old age poverty in Germany. "But the response has been overwhelming. People are much more open, empathetic and interested than they are often given credit for." She and her wife Christine Kienhöfer have been running Silbertaler, a project in the state of Rhineland Palatinate to combat since 2021. "We started in the living room in Speyer," she says. Today, the Beyond Unisus Foundation runs an office not far from the cathedral, where teams pack 45 food boxes every week. They deliver fresh fruit, vegetables and other staple foods to senior citizens who are living at home. One is Heidrun Koegler, 81. "You spoil me so much," she calls out to Doris Walch in the stairwell as she brings the food. "I got very ill way back and was no longer able to work full-time," says Koegler. "Now I have a mini-pension, and Mrs Walsch and Silbertaler save me every week. That way I can look after myself and don't have to go into an old people's home." For many senior citizens, this is crucial: Staying in their own home for as long as possible. Koegler and Walch place the food carefully in the fridge. "It's not just the food," says Koegler. "It's also the contact with Silbertaler, the visit from Mrs Walsch: in a way, that's also food. They give me courage and strength." Meanwhile, Kogler says many seniors feel shame about being poor in their old age, says Koegler. "I want to encourage them to overcome this and speak out." Seniors in many places face poverty and here in the state of Rhineland-Palatinate the problem is reaching record proportions, according to Karl-Heinz Totz, chairman of the Rhineland-Palatinate Seniors' Union. "One in five pensioners in Rhineland-Palatinate is at risk of poverty in old age, which is far higher than the national average," he says. The risk of poverty among 65-year-olds and older in the state is 20.2%, a recent study shows. "At 23.2%, women in Rhineland-Palatinate are significantly more at risk of poverty than men of the same age at 16.6%," says the Seniors' Union. Ellis, in her office in Speyer, recalls the tree that prompted the start of the project. "We saw a Christmas tree at a retirement home in town, and on it people had hung up what they wish for, and their wishes were so modest, like cookies, a puzzle book, a bag of crisps, a scarf. People have no money for the little pleasures in life, like a trip to the hairdresser or new clothes." Christine Kienhöfer nods. "We just took action. Also because we were doing well in life ourselves." At the start, the two women collected donations in kind and soon realized that the need was greater than they had expected. The neighbourhood group they had started evolved into the Silbertaler project. Ellis and Kienhöfer founded the organization, provided start-up funding and took on a project manager and volunteers to run the day-to-day activities. The city of Speyer helped to establish contact with those in need. Now, the foundation says it is financed by donations and receives support from local companies and private individuals. On top of that come collaborations with other charities. "We would love to be a model project that can be imitated in other cities," says Ellis. "Our experience and infrastructure can help to launch similar projects elsewhere in Germany." In Speyer, Silbertaler currently supports 145 to 150 people, mostly women with many living in care homes. "The need for support is much greater than our current capacity," says Kienhöfer. "There are almost 500 recipients of basic income support and more than 2,000 people affected by poverty in old age. Through campaigns, we are constantly trying to make ourselves more visible to these people and increase our offer." Their support goes beyond boxes of food. Silbertaler also helps take people who need to go to an official office or local authority, bring in tradespeople or when they need new washing machines and kitchen appliances. "When people move house, we help them sort out their personal belongings. These are borderline cases," says Ellis. Asked what she would like, she hesitates, then says ideally, that everyone would pitch in. "It would be great if we all showed more mindfulness and everyone helped where they are needed, according to their abilities."
