Yesterday, Kim and I went to her grandfather's 90th birthday party, which was in fact something of a family reunion filled (as usual) with people squinting at each other thinking, "Do I know her?" Not long after getting there, I was chatting with a sixteen year old cousin when we were interrupted by a middle aged relative. She said a few words to him, and then looked at me and asked, "So, is this one of your friends?"
I've gotten surprisingly much of that recently. A week or two ago, I was carded when buying wine at the grocery store. And when I saw Professor Su at a Harvey Mudd event not long ago he exclaimed that I looked younger than I had when I was in his class. I'm torn as to what to think of it. On the one hand, it's pleasant to know that I haven't lost that youthful glow. But on the other, there's always a part of me that thinks, "Hey now! I've got a doctorate in string theory and I'm a professor of physics. Don't I get a little respect?" I guess I'm a bit more attached to that whole "social status" thing than I like to admit. (I was also bit too pleased when I saw the New York Times survey listing the highest status occupations: 1. Doctor, 2. Lawyer, 3. Physicist/Astronomer. I seem to be a little vain after all.)
One of the most interesting aspects of the experience yesterday, though, is the way in which that older relative broke into our conversation. She broke in right in the middle of a sentence, as if her desire to say hello was obviously more important than anything two sixteen-year-olds might be talking about. I don't recall being particularly aware of that behavior when I was younger, but I'm willing to believe that it's common. And that bugs me. I've always felt that as much as possible, kids should be treated just like any other person. As it was, I felt distinctly like I was being treated as an inferior. (The interrupting relative seemed a bit contrite when I introduced myself, but for me that just underscored how little she had respected our conversation before she knew I was an adult.)
On the other hand, there are situations where a clear difference in age and experience is pretty important. My youthful look leaves me uncertain that my students will automatically take me seriously, for example. I'm still working on how to strike the right balance there.
I've gotten surprisingly much of that recently. A week or two ago, I was carded when buying wine at the grocery store. And when I saw Professor Su at a Harvey Mudd event not long ago he exclaimed that I looked younger than I had when I was in his class. I'm torn as to what to think of it. On the one hand, it's pleasant to know that I haven't lost that youthful glow. But on the other, there's always a part of me that thinks, "Hey now! I've got a doctorate in string theory and I'm a professor of physics. Don't I get a little respect?" I guess I'm a bit more attached to that whole "social status" thing than I like to admit. (I was also bit too pleased when I saw the New York Times survey listing the highest status occupations: 1. Doctor, 2. Lawyer, 3. Physicist/Astronomer. I seem to be a little vain after all.)
One of the most interesting aspects of the experience yesterday, though, is the way in which that older relative broke into our conversation. She broke in right in the middle of a sentence, as if her desire to say hello was obviously more important than anything two sixteen-year-olds might be talking about. I don't recall being particularly aware of that behavior when I was younger, but I'm willing to believe that it's common. And that bugs me. I've always felt that as much as possible, kids should be treated just like any other person. As it was, I felt distinctly like I was being treated as an inferior. (The interrupting relative seemed a bit contrite when I introduced myself, but for me that just underscored how little she had respected our conversation before she knew I was an adult.)
On the other hand, there are situations where a clear difference in age and experience is pretty important. My youthful look leaves me uncertain that my students will automatically take me seriously, for example. I'm still working on how to strike the right balance there.
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Of course, if you really *want* to look older I think the one quick method (short of taking large doses of Meth or something equally horrible) is to grow a beard.
Though in addition to my beard I also have the bunch of grey hair pointing towards older... which ironically I've had to some extent since high school.
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It was really funny, my first year of teaching, before the parents recognized me. They'd see me, and they couldn't think "student" because it's a boys' school so they were thinking "older sister maybe?", and then they'd see that I was acting as if I belonged and knew what was going on, and then they'd just have no idea how to react to me at all. Hilarious.
My coworkers, however, have consistently overestimated my age, even as I still get mistaken physically for a teenager on occasion. (Including once while pregnant. That was an impressive disapproving sidelong glance. :)
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Rude relatives, not much one can do about that. If you're younger than they are, you'll always be the baby.
--Beth
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It may also be that I only really started to feel that I had "come into my own" as a peer of the professors rather than the students a bit over a year ago. It was a fantastic feeling to realize at a physics talk a month or so before my own PhD defense that I had lost my reservations about interactions with the faculty. I hadn't really realized that I'd had those reservations to begin with, and then I found myself quashing an off-topic debate between a couple of senior faculty so the speaker could get on with his talk (which I doubt I'd have dared to do even a year earlier). Maybe after that I just assumed that an internal transformation so significant to me ought by rights to be obvious to everyone else as well. (And that event was, of course, closely tied to my job and education, perhaps explaining why those jumped to mind recently.)
And as I said before, I'm still disappointed that this nebulous idea of "adulthood" affects the respect granted to other people in general.
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That makes sense.
I'm still disappointed that this nebulous idea of "adulthood" affects the respect granted to other people in general.
Fortunately there are a few of us who believe in treating people as people from as early an age as possible:
http://www.takingchildrenseriously.com/
but it's sad that so many don't.
It's great that you are feeling more confident, that should at least ameliorate the effects of other people not taking you seriously.
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I have this too
The really funny thing is that as a teenager, people always thought I was older than I was. When I was 15, store clerks started offering me credit cards. In my summer jobs, I'd regularly be invited to go to with the guys to bars after work. And during the summer I spent at Chambana, everyone just assumed I was a grad student. I wonder why the change...
And ukelele, dear, you _are_ a child who hasn't even reached her 4th decade, yet, so nyah! :)
--Itai