Recently, while interviewing someone about a company's labor problems, the interviewee said it was time for the Baby Boomers to step aside and let Gen Y, all bubbly and enthusiastic, take over.
It’s been only recently that the age thing has become a thing for me. I am not 57 year old woman. I just play one on TV.
On second thought, I don’t know many 57-year-old women on TV so my attempt to be lighthearted has merely provided another avenue for my seething resentment.
Because here’s the thing: Gen Y, Gen X, Gens R-Z, you need us.
We are your moms. I don’t care how wicked your mom is, you still need her—or an idealized version of her. If it’s not the woman who raised you, find another one. We’re everywhere, and we will care about you.
We are your voice of experience. The first time you need a root canal, we can coach you through it. Or you get hit with an unexpected tax bill. Or someone decides to steal from you. Been there, and, unfortunately, done that. We learned from our mistakes and, we hope, you can learn from our mistakes. We may not have wealth, but we do have a wealth of experience.
We are your compasses. Most of us, by this age, have found our true north. You may not have found yours. We’ll share. And give you a map--a personalized one, if you want it.
We are your protection. We hate it when our kids are hurt, and most of you are our kids or could be our kids. We’ll fight like tigers to keep you from harm. That might make us a little over protective, but think about overprotection in terms of being on a precipice: Would you rather we almost caught you?
We expect so little. We aren’t expecting you to fall all over us. We expect you, oh, I don't know, to return a phone call or a message. We expect the occasional thank you.
And we don’t ask much. Just don’t be mean. Because someday, someone will tell you to get out of the way, and you can take comfort in knowing that you were kind.
Because it’s one thing to be shoved out of the way, and it's quite another to be ushered to the next stage in life. Which one would you choose? That’s what I thought.