Does Age-ism actually exist?
As the digital new world of technology begins to take over every facet of how we run our companies, the term “ageism” is being spoken behind closed doors in more and more companies than ever before. “Ageism” is being prejudice or discriminatory towards someone based on their age. This problem is becoming a more and more difficult issue, especially in More companies in the tech world. And it is an interesting idea because if an employer was to say that a candidate was “too old” to work at their company (based off of the stereotypical idea that there is a digital divide between the old and young), people may not raise any eyebrows. But if you we’re to play a little game of mad libs and that employer was to say they didn’t hire you because they thought that people of your skin color were bad with technology—that would be racist and wrong.
One of the biggest targets of criticism are the Silicon Valley companies who have been accused of not hiring old people. Mark Zuckerberg has come under fire for his statement on the subject: “Facebook hires the most qualified candidates. Period. We are a software company and like any company, we try to hire candidates with proven experience in the field—or at least one similar to it. So yes we turn away applicants who have minimal experience with a computer, let alone a calculator. It just so happens that many of these applicants are older. We just simply cannot afford to invest the time, money, and resources that would come as a consequence of hiring them. Even if they knew how to use a dial-up modem for their internet connection—which is more than most—it would still work. It’d be like trying to slow-roast a pig with a microwave. Just like the Yankees wouldn’t sign someone who has never played baseball a day in his life.”
Bill Gates said, “Microsoft doesn’t have an ageism problem—or at least, I’m unaware of one. So we either don’t have an issue at Microsoft or the old bastards can’t figure out how to call our customer service hotline.”
However, these are a few of the only public comments we could find on the issue. S we decided to go out and get some quotes from the geriatrics ourselves because we wanted to find out what elderly people felt on the issue themselves. And we thought that it was our journalistic duty to report to the people what they said.
We (aka I) decided to speak to the only old person I know what was geriatric-aged and lived on my street because if I had to go any further I cannot promise that I’d put forth the effort of getting into my car and driving somewhere. I walked to her house and rang the doorbell. After hearing absolutely nothing, I rang it again and knocked. Neighbor Nora Ann called out and said, “give me a moment” After about 15 minutes, she called out again, “one second.” About 25 minutes after that, she said, “be right there.” I decided to leave after she said, “Sorry it takes me a while to get from the couch to the front door.” I knew for a fact her couch was two steps from the door. Thinking she was messing with me, I left. She called my father telling him I ding dong ditched her despite repeatedly speaking with her for like an hour.
Once I left the neighbor’s land of Nora Ann, I decided that I would go out and talk to some old people because had already put in too much effort to give up on this blog. You’re Welcome. So I got into my car and drove to old folks home. I chose not to go to the hospital because I thought that maybe they wouldn’t be in the greatest of mindsets considering they’re probably dying. Plus the faculty at old people homes are a lot less strict about you speaking with the people they care for than In hospitals. I walked right into Shady Grave—sorry I misspelled that, Shady Grove Assisted Living facility— and I asked the woman at the front desk if I could come in and speak with a few of their resident’s that were hanging out in the rec room—only if I wasn’t bothering them, of course. The woman at the front desk, without looking up from her iPhone, said: “I don’t care just sign in.” On the counter was a clipboard with a table that had peoples names, number, and resident they were visiting. Most of the names were clearly fake. Some notable standouts were:
- Chris P. Bacon
- Dixie Normus
- Moe Lester
- Connie Lingus
- Eric Shun
- Dill Doe
So I signed my name in the same under Eric Shunn, which was the only space left. I noticed that Moe Lester drew a penis in the section where you wrote in your “reason for visit,” so I decided not to fill it out because it seemed like the sheet wasn’T ALL THAT IMPORTANT.
There were 3 elderly people in the rec room. One man was sitting in a sofa chair staring at a TV that had recurring paid programming commercials, one was playing chess alone as both players, and the female was reading an esquire magazine form the month’s newest subscription. I decided to ask her about the subject because maybe she was woke to what ageism was because she was seemingly up to date on current events. I asked her if I could ask her a quick question for a blog. She said yes and that I could quote her.
ME: “Dorothy, Have you ever had any first-hand experience with Age-ism, or how has ageism directly affected you?
DOROTHY “Well, let me first start by saying that it is an honor to be answering interview questions with such an esteemed, and highly-reputable blogger like yourself. It is simply an honor to be featured on KillerTakes.org”
ME: “Thank you for definitely actually saying that in this definitely real conversation that actually took place and is not made up.”
Dorothy: Actually, the most recent incident of being the victim of age-ism that comes to mind is living here. You see, my daughter has power of Attorney for me and deemed that I am incapable of living on my own. Despite have absolutely zero incidents that would indicate any reason to doubt my ability to care for myself. I could not make my own decision regarding my own well-being. The only reason I am in here is because my Daughter is worried about an emergency happening and no one being around to help. I know she is doing this because she loves me, but it just wasn’t my decision and now I am miserable living here against my will.”
ME: “No place like home, huh Dorothy?
DOROTHY: Yeah and we sure as hell aren’t in Kansas anymore.
ME: Well— (As I begin to speak, Dorothy cuts me off.
DOROTHY how many times do I have to tell you, be quiet! I am in the middle of an interview!
(Her eyes are fixated at absolutely nothing. It was like something out of A Beautiful Mind)
DOROTHY: Sorry that’s just the lizard man up to his cold-blooded tricks again.
ME: The Lizard Man? Dorothy: Yes, the man standing right there with the tail and green scales all over hix body...he is standing right there.
She points in the direction of whatever she thinks she is staring at. But her gaze starts to move—Dorothy’s eyes and head turns as if she was watching something move from one side of the room to the other. I become increasingly terrified because I realized she was facing me. But her eyes were fixated on something behind me. The room has been silent for a whole minute now. The only nose was the sound of the chess clock that felt like it was ticking faster and faster.
Her eyes finally broke her stair as she glanced at me as if to snap back into the realization that I was there. She looks back behind me, then back at my face. She looks absolutely panicked. She whispers a sentence that still haunts me:
DOROTHY: He doesn't like you. ME: Oh okay well thank you for the interview goodbye.
When she said her hallucination or ghost or invisible alien or whatever the fuck the Lizard Man is— when she said that the Lizard man didnt like me, I thought:
Needles to say, I decided to speak with my next interviewe. She went back to reading esquire and said “nice to meet you” asif she hadn’t just said some Shining-esque shit.
I walked over to the guy playing chess because the guy that was literally looking through the television had not moved a single muscle—a fly could have landed on his eyeball and he wouldn’t do shit. I just sort of assumed this guy was zonked out on a ton of medication because of paranoid schizophrenia or something and the medication paralyzed his muscles and mind.
Me: ”Hi can I ask you a couple of quick interview questions for a blog?”
Dick (real name: Richard): (Preoccupied by chess, he takes a brief quarter-second to glance to look at who is bothering him) Quickly.
Me: Do you know what Ageism is?
Dick: (not looking up from Chess board) I do.
ME: Do you have any first-hand experience with the consequences of Ageism?
ME : What happened?
Dick I learned that I’m too old to get laid by 20 year-olds....apparently.
I hope he was in a game of chess with Death and I hope he lost.
The last person in the room was the guy who objectively looked insane. I tried to talk to him but the man was like a statue. Nothing could get him to flinch from his gaze through the TV. He must have watched the same paid programming commercial over and over again. His mouth was open and I couldn’t help but think that it must’ve been so dry. He was essentially Jim Carrey in this gif from Yes Man:
After I spoke to him 3 times and got absolutely no movement, I decided that it was a lost cause. I wanted to nudge him or something but that’s how a lot of murder movies start—you know, like the killer is secretly crazed and is just trying to keep to themselves and some obnoxious teenager thinks they’re being funny by fucking with him but little do they know that this decision to be a prick will result in them being skinned and filleted.
As I am walking out, I walk by a nurse that seems like she knows her shit. She was looking at a clipboard that had all sorts of charts and shit so you know she knows wassup. Off-topic question, is there a reason all nurses wear the same generic white sneakers?
Me: Hey, what is the deal with that guy over there.
Nurse: Who…Silent Steve? He was the CEO and founder of his own company. Although it grew to be a pretty large company, he always stayed true to it being “family-owned.” He put everyone in his family on the board of directors. Well, as the company grew and as Steve aged, the job became more demanding and the board of directors felt like they needed someone you ger—or at least someone more willing to put the time and energy needed at the companies CEO. So the board forced him out of the position and voted him out. Steve felt betrayed by the very people he loved and worked his entire life to set them up in a good position. And as a thank you, they essentially fired him from his own company. He felt like they were kicking him out of the family—after all— they no longer saw him for who he was and everything he did for them, but as a number. It broke his brain, made him snap. He could not trust anyone, especially the people he felt closest to. Now he suffers from paranoid delusions. All because his family believed he was incapable of doing his job because of his age.
ME: What are your thoughts on ageism in the workplace?
Nurse: I don’t know anything about that, but I will say that it is kind of crazy how much control we have over the lives of our residents. I mean, they can’t just eave on their own. It’s like they’re in senior citizen prison.
Should Bernie Sanders, Joe Biden, be running for President of the United States or council President of the Del Boca Vista condo association? Is it being ageist to ask f Bernie Sanders is physically healthy enough (maybe) and/or mentally healthy enough (no) to serve as president? Or is it a viable concern knowing the toll on one’s physical health that comes with serving as president?
The candidates that are leading the polls are oddly enough also the oldest. Bernie is 79, Joe-mama is 78, and Lizzo Warren is 71. Regardless of your stance on whether or not age-ism yields fair concerns or unfair discrimination or both, one thing is for sure: who is chosen as their vice-presidential candidate is critical. Because what follows a discussion about concerns of a candidate’s health and age is a discussion about whether or not the VP would be a good president should something ever happen to the president.
Wow, that took a left turn. Get it? A Left turn… because of democrats.