The Citymeals Blog

It’s a reality few of us want to acknowledge, but we’re all getting older. And, in a society obsessed with youth, that’s not always viewed as a good thing. Ageism — stereotypes, prejudice and discrimination toward others or oneself based on age — is so engrained in our culture that it can sometimes be easy to miss. Though, we all feel its effects.

According to a 2022 study, 93% of Americans ranging in age from 50 to 80 years old reported experiencing “everyday ageism.” Examples include hearing others make disparaging comments about their wrinkles or new gray hairs, dubbing a lapse in memory a “senior moment” and the endless parade of commercials and advertisements, all promising that this cream or serum is the one that will stop time in its tracks.

The message is clear: Don’t get old. And, if you do, don’t let the world see it.

It’s that kind of thinking that Dorothy chafes against. In her experience, getting older can sometimes make you feel invisible. “It bothers me,” she says.

At 92, she feels like people often assume certain things about her, like that she’s unwilling or unable to learn new things. On the contrary, Dorothy enjoys keeping up with the world around her, even if it’s just from her apartment in Queens. She still has opinions on current events, she has hobbies and friends. She has a smart phone, which she taught herself to use. It’s a great way for her to stay connected to essential information.

“As people get older, they’re looked upon as a certain category of person who can’t do this or that,” says Dorothy. “If you let yourself get into that category, you stay there. It’s bad for your health, bad for your mind.”

Dorothy has always been an independent person. That hasn’t changed as she’s aged. Bernie, an 89-year-old living in Manhattan, feels similarly. Originally from Havana, Cuba, Bernie came to New York as a teenager with the dream of being a flamenco dancer. Though he’s now reliant on a wheelchair, Bernie still has music in his soul. “I’m still the same person I was when I was young,” he says.

Ageism can make accepting help difficult. Bernie now relies on home health aides to help him with daily tasks, from grocery shopping and meal prep to dressing and bathing. “I know it’s their job to do it, but I feel bad,” he says. “It’s hard to depend on them for everything.”

Still, he considers it a privilege to get old. As Bernie points out, “A lot of people, they don’t get to be old.” And those who do need the support of their communities, so they can continue to age in the homes and neighborhoods they’ve lived in for decades.

Because, in addition to shaping our perspectives, ageism can also affect policy formation, implementation and access to public resources. It also bolsters the notion that some older people are undeserving of benefits — even benefits they’ve earned. That the dependence older people have on our systems is a personal weakness and not simply part of the social interdependence we all benefit from.

In our own research into elder hunger, we found that, of those not participating in SNAP — the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program — 55 percent were unsure if they qualified. Even if they did, some were hesitant to enroll. “I do not want to increase the burden on the government by participating in SNAP,” one participant explained.

We need to reframe aging, challenging ageist attitudes and unpacking our own internalized ageism. That can include taking note of how we talk about getting older, interrogating paternalistic beliefs about the older people in our life and providing the support they need, while still allowing them space to make decisions for themselves.

And if we want to make New York City — and the world at large — a place where we can all age comfortably, we need to start now.