Am I an elder or just older?

Lately I've been thinking a lot about the concept of 'eldership'. For some reason, I associate it strongly with being the oldest in my family. With one parent still alive, I can't possibly be an elder, can I? There's still someone in my family (my dad) with more lived experience and wisdom than me, surely?

Yet, in indigenous cultures, the concept of eldership is closely aligned to the notion of leadership. Elders earn their place in the community and are not necessarily the oldest. So, as I examine my life, have I earned the right to think of myself as an elder?

Dictionaries define 'eldership' as 'the position or duties of an elder in a church'. An interestingly narrow explanation given that many of us don't belong to a church or follow any kind of formal religion.  Perhaps we can substitute the word 'community' for 'church'. Which then makes me ask... "what (and perhaps, where) is my community?" Is it where I live? Since I've only lived in my small NSW town for seven years, I'm still considered a blow-in. I can't imagine anyone in my local community coming to me for local advice. Is it in my family? Well, maybe - to my children and grandchildren, but not in my wider family - surely that label belongs to my dad and older sister. Is it in my work community? Possibly. 

What, then, is an elder? I did the 21st century thing and asked ChatGPT. Here's the answer I got:

An elder is typically a term used to refer to an older individual within a community or society who is respected and revered for their wisdom, experience, and often their leadership or guidance. Elders are often associated with indigenous or traditional cultures, where they play significant roles in preserving and passing down cultural, spiritual, and historical knowledge to younger generations.

Elders are valued for their accumulated life experiences, knowledge of traditions, and their ability to provide guidance, make important decisions, and resolve conflicts within their communities. They may also serve as mentors and role models, helping to instill values and cultural practices in younger generations.

The concept of elders varies from culture to culture, but in many societies, elders are highly regarded and hold positions of authority and influence. Their role may include participating in tribal councils, advising leaders, conducting rituals and ceremonies, and sharing oral histories and stories that have been passed down through generations.

In modern western societies, we seem to have narrowed the whole concept of eldership to leaders in politics and business. We have lost respect for older people and forget to tap into their many, many years of experience and wisdom. Older people are marginalised and pushed aside instead of being sought after for their ideas and contribution.  It seems to me a great pity and a waste of a wonderful resource we could be tapping into.

As we move from mid-life, one of the questions we often ask ourselves is "who am I, beyond the roles of my first half of life?" At Second 50, this is a question we encourage members to explore. I have struggled with the notion of calling myself an elder - of accepting this as  a role for myself.  I feel that this is a term that must be bestowed upon me by others, not taken on as an identity for myself. But if I am honest, then there have been many signs that others think of me as an elder - they just haven't used the term. Over the years I have "collected' quite a few mentees, most younger than myself, who still reach out to me when they need a thinking partner or some advice. After a few decades of experience in mentoring theory and practice, I am now asked to contribute chapters to mentoring books. Today, I am hosting a webinar on mentoring with my esteemed colleague and elder, Professor David Clutterbuck, and we have 771 registrations for the event. I could easily tell myself that all those people are just interested in David. But at least some of them may be interested in what I have to say?

So, I have decided to embrace the elder side of me. I wholeheartedly step into the responsibilities of eldership within the Second 50 community and other communities in which I participate, from this day forward. I will wear the badge with pride. And, I have to say, it feels much nicer to think of myself as an elder, rather than just... well, ...old.

Ask yourself, are you an elder? Or ready to embrace eldership? Before you say 'no' read this quote, by Marianne Williamson in Return to Love (1992). Then let's start a conversation in Second 50 about what it means so that we can support one another in the role.

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented and fabulous?
Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There's nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you.
We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us.
It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.
As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others."