Confessions of a 40-Something
Everyone said that coming to Washington and being a Congressional fellow would change my life. I have mentioned this many times in my blogging this year. It's true. I have made more professional contacts than I thought possible and when I return to Massachusetts in July, I'll have a new job, with a step-up in rank, at a university that is more closely aligned to my professional goals.
But, what I didn't anticipate is that coming to Washington would reinforce my age to me. Don't get me wrong, as I have blogged before, I love finally being in my 40s, but I have never been in a situation where my age has defined me so much.
Let's start with the fall, when I was beginning my fellowship. It was pretty clear to me from the get-go that the vast, vast major of fellows in my program were newly minted PhDs. Most are in their late 20s to early 30s. So, I had a few more years of experience under my belt, which I think has served me quite well here. The professional society that is sponsoring me this year was having an event for all of the policy fellows last September. There are three Congressional branch fellows and six Executive branch fellows, for a total of nine this year. I am the oldest. A new member of the team in my professional society, who was all of 22, approached me with genuine enthusiasm and excitement, clapping her hands as she exclaimed:
Staff: You must be our mid-career professional! We're so excited to have you here!!
Me: [Long pause] [Blink] [Blink] Ahhh...yes! I guess that's me! I'm so glad that you're glad, too!
That should have been a clue, really.
Through the first month or two that I was in Washington I would find myself peering into the mirror in my apartment bathroom and thinking, Man, I just look like sh** all the time. It's happening every day. It must be the lighting in this new bathroom. Then in the bathrooms at the Senate Office Building, Boy, the lighting in here must be bad, too, because I look awful! Maybe it's some kind of reaction to living away from home or something... When I was next home, I peered into the bathroom mirror where I have been viewing myself daily since our major renovation in 2011. Huh, isn't that something? It's not the lighting in the bathrooms in Washington...I guess I just look like sh** all the time now!!
And, on it went.
When I was interviewing for the new job that I will start in late summer, I spent no less than 22 hours on campus over three days. It can be a lot of pressure, so I took frequent bathroom breaks just to have a few moments to myself, to take some deep breaths, and to "check in" with myself. Every time I walked into the bathroom, in what will be my new office building this fall, I thought, Geez, Emily, look at all that white hair glowing under the light. You look like such a mid-career professional in that suit of yours... At some point during one of these bathroom trips, I realized that the reason that I looked that I am a mid-career professional, is because I am: I'm 15 years post-PhD and I was interviewing for a position as a full professor and as a department head. Ahhh. I see. So, this is where I am.
One of the big concerns when one comes to work for Congress is that one will work with 23 year-olds. All. Day. Long. That didn't happen to me. I'm working with experienced staffers who are very knowledgeable and many of whom work for one of the most powerful committees in the Senate. And, they are all in their 20s and 30s. I think that I am in a tie for the oldest person in the office. And, that person, other than the senator, is the most senior person among the staff. I've always worked with people across the life span, but this is the first time that I have worked with people who are all younger than me. In fact, I just realized that my very presence in that office allows everyone else to work with people across the life span.
Sometime this spring I realized that all of the young staffers look the same to me. This was just another clue that I am mid-career-something. The women all have long straight hair (and I confess that I have never liked the straightened-hair look and I blame it completely on Jennifer Aniston and the character that she played in the TV show Friends - but I digress...and it was worth it!), are slimmer than I have ever been or will ever be, they wear knee-length skirts with a little less fabric (diameter-wise) than I would recommend, and very, very high heels that this runner -- who has had no fewer than three stress fractures in her toes -- would never subject her feet to. The men? They wear bold glasses (a look that I still do not appreciate), a five day-old beard (and I confess that I've always loved a man with a beard, so I don't mind this fashion trend), a dark suit with pants that are about 1-2 inches shorter than I would recommend, pant legs that could use more fabric to actually fit around their legs, and funky socks. Ohhh - and they all look the same to me! This was a sure sign that I am a generation apart from nearly everyone around me in the Senate.
Today I met a friend who is 14 years my junior for lunch and was happy to show off my new dress to her.
Friend: I really like it!
Me: Overall, I really like it, except the scalloped neckline...
Friend: Those are really in style though!
Me: Oh...huh...
Me: [shedding my suit jacket so that she could better see the whole dress]
Friend: It actually looks too big for you!
Me: Whaaat? I think it fits me perfectly!
Friend: I don't know...I think it might be too big.
Me: I think this might be a generational difference...
So, there you have it. The mid-career professional reporting from Washington. I don't really worry about growing older. I've always been glad to gain more life experience, more wisdom, and I've been so very lucky to be exposed to people who have aged gracefully and lived lives well into their senior years. Heck - I'm only 15 years into this thing of being an academic. I hope that I have at least another 30 years to give to my professional life. In the meantime, I'm going to get back to peering in mirrors, judging the young people around me, and resuming my life under The Rock.
But, what I didn't anticipate is that coming to Washington would reinforce my age to me. Don't get me wrong, as I have blogged before, I love finally being in my 40s, but I have never been in a situation where my age has defined me so much.
Let's start with the fall, when I was beginning my fellowship. It was pretty clear to me from the get-go that the vast, vast major of fellows in my program were newly minted PhDs. Most are in their late 20s to early 30s. So, I had a few more years of experience under my belt, which I think has served me quite well here. The professional society that is sponsoring me this year was having an event for all of the policy fellows last September. There are three Congressional branch fellows and six Executive branch fellows, for a total of nine this year. I am the oldest. A new member of the team in my professional society, who was all of 22, approached me with genuine enthusiasm and excitement, clapping her hands as she exclaimed:
Staff: You must be our mid-career professional! We're so excited to have you here!!
Me: [Long pause] [Blink] [Blink] Ahhh...yes! I guess that's me! I'm so glad that you're glad, too!
That should have been a clue, really.
Through the first month or two that I was in Washington I would find myself peering into the mirror in my apartment bathroom and thinking, Man, I just look like sh** all the time. It's happening every day. It must be the lighting in this new bathroom. Then in the bathrooms at the Senate Office Building, Boy, the lighting in here must be bad, too, because I look awful! Maybe it's some kind of reaction to living away from home or something... When I was next home, I peered into the bathroom mirror where I have been viewing myself daily since our major renovation in 2011. Huh, isn't that something? It's not the lighting in the bathrooms in Washington...I guess I just look like sh** all the time now!!
And, on it went.
When I was interviewing for the new job that I will start in late summer, I spent no less than 22 hours on campus over three days. It can be a lot of pressure, so I took frequent bathroom breaks just to have a few moments to myself, to take some deep breaths, and to "check in" with myself. Every time I walked into the bathroom, in what will be my new office building this fall, I thought, Geez, Emily, look at all that white hair glowing under the light. You look like such a mid-career professional in that suit of yours... At some point during one of these bathroom trips, I realized that the reason that I looked that I am a mid-career professional, is because I am: I'm 15 years post-PhD and I was interviewing for a position as a full professor and as a department head. Ahhh. I see. So, this is where I am.
One of the big concerns when one comes to work for Congress is that one will work with 23 year-olds. All. Day. Long. That didn't happen to me. I'm working with experienced staffers who are very knowledgeable and many of whom work for one of the most powerful committees in the Senate. And, they are all in their 20s and 30s. I think that I am in a tie for the oldest person in the office. And, that person, other than the senator, is the most senior person among the staff. I've always worked with people across the life span, but this is the first time that I have worked with people who are all younger than me. In fact, I just realized that my very presence in that office allows everyone else to work with people across the life span.
Sometime this spring I realized that all of the young staffers look the same to me. This was just another clue that I am mid-career-something. The women all have long straight hair (and I confess that I have never liked the straightened-hair look and I blame it completely on Jennifer Aniston and the character that she played in the TV show Friends - but I digress...and it was worth it!), are slimmer than I have ever been or will ever be, they wear knee-length skirts with a little less fabric (diameter-wise) than I would recommend, and very, very high heels that this runner -- who has had no fewer than three stress fractures in her toes -- would never subject her feet to. The men? They wear bold glasses (a look that I still do not appreciate), a five day-old beard (and I confess that I've always loved a man with a beard, so I don't mind this fashion trend), a dark suit with pants that are about 1-2 inches shorter than I would recommend, pant legs that could use more fabric to actually fit around their legs, and funky socks. Ohhh - and they all look the same to me! This was a sure sign that I am a generation apart from nearly everyone around me in the Senate.
Today I met a friend who is 14 years my junior for lunch and was happy to show off my new dress to her.
Friend: I really like it!
Me: Overall, I really like it, except the scalloped neckline...
Friend: Those are really in style though!
Me: Oh...huh...
Me: [shedding my suit jacket so that she could better see the whole dress]
Friend: It actually looks too big for you!
Me: Whaaat? I think it fits me perfectly!
Friend: I don't know...I think it might be too big.
Me: I think this might be a generational difference...
 |
| Me with my scalloped neckline. Apparently they're really in style! Who knew?! |
So, there you have it. The mid-career professional reporting from Washington. I don't really worry about growing older. I've always been glad to gain more life experience, more wisdom, and I've been so very lucky to be exposed to people who have aged gracefully and lived lives well into their senior years. Heck - I'm only 15 years into this thing of being an academic. I hope that I have at least another 30 years to give to my professional life. In the meantime, I'm going to get back to peering in mirrors, judging the young people around me, and resuming my life under The Rock.
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