logo
#

Latest news with #instructor

Why was this stranger calling me sweetheart? The benevolent ageism of ‘elderspeak'
Why was this stranger calling me sweetheart? The benevolent ageism of ‘elderspeak'

The Guardian

time17 hours ago

  • General
  • The Guardian

Why was this stranger calling me sweetheart? The benevolent ageism of ‘elderspeak'

I recently joined an exercise class for over 55s. I estimated the majority of (mostly) women in the class were, like me, septuagenarians. They all seemed familiar with the drill – chairs, weights, bands, balls – and within a few minutes I knew I was in the right class for me. It wasn't a dawdle – in fact it was decently challenging, especially the balance exercises. Our excellent instructor offered three levels of difficulty for every exercise, urging us to work out at our own pace and ability. Near me was a considerably younger woman who could well have been the baby of the group. A fiftysomething perhaps, she was steady, confident, flexible and strong. She always chose the hardest level. It was validating to share a class with her, to know that the program was designed to be accessible for my own arthritis-challenged frame but still be beneficial for a much fitter, younger person. After the class I queued up to retrieve my bag from a table. This younger, fitter member was standing by the table between me and my bag. To fetch it I would need to reach around and risk invading her personal space. So I asked: 'Excuse me – do you mind if I grab my bag? It's just behind you there.' 'Of course not,' she answered, handing me the bag. 'There you go, sweetheart.' Sweetheart? Why was this stranger calling me sweetheart? Not that I hadn't been bestowed with similar endearments before, but that was half a lifetime ago, under different contexts and gender dynamics. Back then I would sometimes find myself an unwilling darling, love, or sweetheart to a man trying his luck. But being addressed as sweetheart, even by a pleasant woman who showed no hint of malice, left me feeling patronised. The incident carried echoes of my mother's aged care facility in the early 2000s, where staff routinely addressed residents by infantilising names. At the time I thought the carers sounded warm and sympathetic and Mum didn't seem to notice or mind. But I'm not OK with it now; not for myself as an older person living independently in the community, nor for those who live in aged care. In 1986, UK researchers Gillian Cohen and Dorothy Faulkner coined the word 'elderspeak' to describe a patronising manner of speaking to older people. Dr Marlene Krasovitsky, a consultant to the World Health Organization's Global Campaign to Combat Ageism, and board member of Australia's anti-ageism advocate body EveryAGECounts, describes elderspeak as a form of 'benevolent ageism'. 'Research tells us that benevolent ageism is the most entrenched form of ageism because we tend to think of older people as frail, sick, dependent, passive,' Dr Krasovitsky tells me. 'Elderspeak diminishes and devalues. It erodes autonomy and voice and feeds the perception that older people are passive onlookers to life, basically irrelevant.' Elderspeak may involve the use of inappropriate terms of endearment, juvenile language or unnecessarily loud or slow enunciation. It can often be a vehicle for attributing ageist stereotypes to the older person, defining them not by their selfhood but by their age. As I cogitated over the sweetheart incident, I began to see it as part of a pattern that began in my late 60s. This wasn't the first time I'd been treated as someone in need of a lap rug and a cup of hot cocoa. Sign up for our rundown of must-reads, pop culture and tips for the weekend, every Saturday morning Not long ago a taxi driver welcomed me into his cab with 'How are you today, young lady?' Without asking me if I wanted to listen to music, he proceeded to select a song from his playlist. 'I think you'll like this track,' he said, as the Glenn Miller band's 1941 hit Chattanooga Choo Choo bounced jauntily out of the taxi's speakers. I've been variously described as 'spry', 'sprightly' and 'good for my age'. As incidents like these have mounted up, I've wrestled with the question: is it just me? Have I entered my 'grumpy old woman' stage, blowing up trivial or imagined slights, spiralling into a morass of hopelessness? But a recent study by the University of Queensland cautions against engaging in 'self-directed ageism'; that is, adopting a mindset of self-doubt and fear of being judged on the basis of age. To embrace such thinking is to be ageist against yourself. I have come to understand that elderspeak generally originates from a place of kindness. It is comforting to know that the woman in the gym meant no ill will, but it still stings to be on the receiving end of even benevolently ageist language. Krasovitsky has some simple advice for me: 'Ask them to change the way they are speaking with you.' It won't be easy, but it stands to reason that if a person doesn't know their well-intended words can be hurtful, they will continue to use them. So the next time a taxi driver offers to play me a big band Glenn Miller number, I'll say something like, 'That music was before my time – but can you find me some Led Zeppelin?' Marcia van Zeller is the author of Be a good girl, Valerie (Ventura Press, $32.99).

72yo female pilot who learnt to fly in retirement wants others to chase their dreams
72yo female pilot who learnt to fly in retirement wants others to chase their dreams

ABC News

timea day ago

  • ABC News

72yo female pilot who learnt to fly in retirement wants others to chase their dreams

There is a moment always guaranteed to put a smile on Carol Browne's face. "I get in the aircraft, open the throttle and we're hurtling down the runway, and we lift off … and I have to pinch myself," she said. The 72-year-old earned her pilot's licence four years ago after a long career in education, and said her most recent skill surprised many of her friends. "Somebody asked me how a flight with a friend went [and] who flew the plane," she said. "I said, 'I did! I was the pilot.' "Their jaw hit the ground because you don't expect 70-year-old ladies to say that in the sewing circle environment." Earning her wings was never a bucket-list item for Ms Browne, but a conversation with her brother-in-law, "over a chardonnay or two", proved pivotal. He said he'd love to fly, but it was cost-prohibitive at his stage of life with a mortgage and kids. "He couldn't do it, and said, 'Why don't you?'" Ms Browne said. "And I thought, 'Well … why don't I?'" With 400 hours in her flight logbook, Ms Browne is now studying for her instructor rating. She says it keeps her feeling younger. "I think having a passion is what it's all about. Doing something that you really love, and wanting to keep getting better at it is the other thing," she said. "There's incredible multitasking you have to do as a pilot … you seem to have to do 15 things at once!" She recalls her flying "milestones" with pride. "My son was my first ever passenger," Ms Browne said. "How many mums get to take their 30-year-old sons flying?" Coming to flying later in life, Ms Browne said her new-found skill aligned with her lifelong passion for learning. Her instructor, chief pilot Trevor Bange at Clifton on Queensland's Darling Downs, said having a mature-age student in the passenger seat was becoming more common. "Once the children are off their hands, they've finished university, they've now got themselves a bit more settled in life," he said. "That's why I always promote it in retirement, they've got the time to spare and can come out here and enjoy a bit of company with people who have a like-minded interest in the concept of aviation. "It's never too late. We had a pilot here who flew into his 90s." In Australia, women account for between 5 and 7 per cent of recreational and commercial pilots. "We're obviously extremely under-represented in the industry," said Sarah Hume, national president of the Australian Women Pilots' Association (AWPA). The AWPA was founded by aviation pioneer Nancy Bird Walton. "Nancy's whole goal was to increase the number of women pilots in Australia. There were 50 pilots that all gathered at Bankstown in 1950," Ms Hume said. "Now there's 550 to 600 of us in the association. So, we've definitely come a long way, but 5 to 7 per cent isn't good enough. "I was a pilot for nearly four years before I ever saw another woman pilot in my same job." Ms Hume said to boost the numbers, three key areas needed attention: strong mentorship and support networks, improved financial access to training, and more inclusive employer practices. "There's a real shortage of pilots in the industry, so we are missing out on a huge percentage of the population by not employing women as much as we employ men," she said. It's one of the reasons Carol Browne pursued her instructor rating. "I was able to talk to a little six-year-old one day," she said. "She didn't want to go flying with her dad because she was scared, but I was able to say, 'Look, I fly these, it's a girl thing to do.'" And she wants girls of all ages to have the same experience. "I think the fact that other people saw that I could do it meant that they didn't have to be afraid of failing because of their age," Ms Browne said. "You can fail because you lack motivation. You can fail because you goof off and you don't work, but you don't fail because you're older. "It's a beautiful world from up there. It's really beautiful."

DOWNLOAD THE APP

Get Started Now: Download the App

Ready to dive into a world of global content with local flavor? Download Daily8 app today from your preferred app store and start exploring.
app-storeplay-store