This is 47: Author and Climate Writer Emily Raboteau Responds to The Oldster Magazine Questionnaire
"I was born in 1976. The amount of carbon in the atmosphere then was 332 parts per million. Today it’s 421.55ppm."
From the time I was 10, I’ve been obsessed with what it means to grow older. I’m curious about what it means to others, of all ages, and so I invite them to take “The Oldster Magazine Questionnaire.”
Here, author and climate writer responds. -Sari Botton
P.S. A reminder that in my book, everyone who is alive and aging is considered an Oldster, and that every contributor to this magazine is the oldest they have ever been, which is interesting new territory for them—and interesting to me, the 58-year-old who publishes this.
When you see a piece featuring someone younger than you, try to remember when you were that age and how monumental it felt. Bring some curiosity to reading about how the person being featured is experiencing that age. Or, if you prefer, wait for the next piece featuring someone in your age group. Not every piece will speak to every reader. I’m doing my best to cover a lot of ground and to foster intergenerational conversation. Please work with me.
Emily Raboteau is the author of The Professor’s Daughter, Searching for Zion, and Lessons for Survival: Mothering Against “the Apocalypse”, just out from Holt. She’s a professor of creative writing at the City College of New York (CUNY), a contributing editor at Orion and a regular contributor to the New York Review of Books. She lives in the Bronx with her partner, the novelist Victor LaValle, and their two children.
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How old are you?
I’m a bicentennial baby. I was born in 1976. The amount of carbon in the atmosphere then was 332 parts per million. Today it’s 421.55ppm.
Is there another age you associate with yourself in your mind? If so, what is it? And why, do you think?
I still feel 13. I was an emo-kid with a punk-rock edge. I wore a lot of black at that age. I buzzed off my hair, inspired by Sinead O’Connor, whom I idolized. I wanted combat boots and couldn’t afford to buy them from the Army Navy store with my babysitting money, so I unscrewed the blades off my second-hand ice-skates and turned them black with shoe polish. I was angry, and I didn’t know how to put my anger to constructive use. I still feel that way, in essence, much of the time. I’m more used to internalizing anger and experiencing it as periodic depression, than externalizing it. That’s a driving question in my new book — how do we rechannel our justifiable anger so that it doesn’t kill us?
Do you feel old for your age? Young for your age? Just right? Are you in step with your peers?
Honestly, I’m still reeling from the pandemic. Specifically, from parenting young kids in New York City during the pandemic, where so many people died. I’m not past it. I’ve had Covid-19 three times myself. I had long Covid after the second bout. Maybe I still do. Many days, I’m exhausted. I usually wake up tired. I have difficulty focusing. I’d say I feel physically like I’m in my 70s, except that would be an insult to my 77-year-old mother, who is much more energetic than I.
Among my peers who are parenting in nuclear families while working full-time, and also possibly in perimenopause, I’d say I’m pretty much in step. A lot of us are sick. We feel like our bodies are wearing down. Some of us are suffering migraines. One of my friends just had hip surgery. I just had a biopsy of some squamous cells in my cervix. We understand that we should be doing things like weightlifting, and meditation but can’t seem to figure out how to fit it into our schedules because of the work-grind of capitalism.
Ironically, my most joyous friend has stage IV breast cancer. Centime. She’s child-free and single, yet in rigorously cultivated community, living every day like it’s her last. Every time Centime invites me to a concert, or a museum, or a stroll in the park, I say yes, and fall in love with life.
Among my peers who are parenting in nuclear families while working full-time, and also possibly in perimenopause, I’d say I’m pretty much in step. A lot of us are sick. We feel like our bodies are wearing down.
What do you like about being your age?
I feel at the top of my game as a writer. I’ve been writing professionally for a quarter of a century, now. I see the bigger picture more and more. I have the resources to follow my curiosity, and I’m unafraid to take on big topics, like climate change. I also like being a good teacher. I’ve been teaching for a long time now, too.
I went to my twenty-fifth college reunion last year. Several classmates had died, and many of us have lost a parent. It put things into perspective. I like that by this age, we weren’t in competition or interested in comparing successes, but rather, genuinely glad to be back in each other’s company.
I like being mother to tweens, helping them to become ethical citizens. I like understanding that mothering them is my most important job.
What is difficult about being your age?
The health stuff I groused about above, and feeling the weight of responsibility that comes with being the last generation able to stop climate change from going haywire. Although, as meteorologist Eric Holthaus says: we were born at the exact right moment to change everything.
I went to my twenty-fifth college reunion last year. Several classmates had died, and many of us have lost a parent. It put things into perspective. I like that by this age, we weren’t in competition or interested in comparing successes, but rather, genuinely glad to be back in each other’s company.
What is surprising about being your age, or different from what you expected, based on what you were told?
If I was told anything about what to expect about being my age, I didn’t hear it at the time. Maybe I wasn’t ready to listen.
What has aging given you? Taken away from you?
Aging is giving me more gratitude about being alive, and more confidence. It’s taken away many doubts and fears I carried about my own abilities.
How has getting older affected your sense of yourself, or your identity?
Getting older has raised the bar on my ambition, and simultaneously lowered it. I tell my students that I’ll be happy if I publish five books before I die. I just want one of them to be good, to maybe outlive me. I can’t really know which, if any, of my books that will be. My role as a mother feels more important to me these days than my role as an author, though I also don’t see these identities as mutually exclusive or necessarily in competition. More than anything, I want our kids to thrive. Not just my kids. All kids. This longing has become my subject matter, and the central meaning of my life.
What are some age-related milestones you are looking forward to? Or ones you “missed,” and might try to reach later, off-schedule, according to our culture and its expectations?
I never learned to drive with confidence as a teenager. I was in a bad car accident at age 16. My boyfriend was driving. I felt too scared by that experience to practice enough in my parents’ car before going to college. After graduating I moved to New York City, where I didn’t need a car to get around. I’ve never owned a car. I have a driver’s license but no experience driving. I’m not comfortable behind the wheel. That’s one thing I want to learn to do, relatively late in life — drive, so I’m no longer in the passenger seat. I just ordered a FIAT 500e. It’s a compact electric car, good for city driving. So, I hope to achieve my goal soon.
Getting older has raised the bar on my ambition, and simultaneously lowered it. I tell my students that I’ll be happy if I publish five books before I die. I just want one of them to be good, to maybe outlive me. I can’t really know which, if any, of my books that will be.
What has been your favorite age so far, and why? Would you go back to this age if you could?
I liked being in my mid-30s, when my kids were babies, but the adjustment to motherhood was also so hard because I was going up for tenure at the same time. I would like to go back to that age, if only to counsel myself to stop working so hard at my career while learning to be a parent. I gave birth to both our kids at home in our apartment. I have never felt more powerful, before, or since. During childbirth, I felt in touch with the divine.
Is there someone who is older than you, who makes growing older inspiring to you? Who is your aging idol and why?
My godsister, Anna, has always been a mentor. She’s a decade older than I. My father was her godfather, and she feels kind like family, but without the emotional baggage. She was my sponsor when I was confirmed in the Catholic faith at age 13. Just as my father took seriously his role being a spiritual parent to her, she has taken seriously her role being a strong and lasting Christian influence on me (though I’m now a lapsed Catholic.) She has always inspired me as a person who prizes relationships and experiences over things, and who works at being joyful. Despite being in extremely good shape as a runner, she suffered cardiac arrest last year. Her heart stopped beating. It was shocking. One of the first things she did when she was stable enough after getting out of the hospital, was to go thank the EMT workers at the firehouse who helped save her life. The last time I saw her, she had a lot of wisdom to share about dying and coming back to life. In essence: you never know when you’re going to go, so enjoy the crazy ride.
What aging-related adjustments have you recently made, style-wise, beauty-wise, health-wise?
Style-wise, I just dropped off two of those big plaid storage bags full of old clothes of mine to the local thrift store. I was prompted by some advice about how decluttering would clear space for good things to come. It felt good to pass forward clothes I haven’t worn in years either because they no longer fit me, strike me as too youthful, or were made from crappy fabric. I can’t tolerate fast fashion or synthetic fabric anymore for environmental and aesthetic reasons. I only want to wear organic, well-made, properly fitted things in wool, cashmere, silk, or cotton, that feel good on my body.
Beauty-wise, my friend, Angie, recently took me to Sephora to buy makeup. I don’t normally wear it. I tend to get allergic reactions to that stuff, and I don’t like how it feels on my face. But I was having my new author photo taken and I didn’t want to look washed out. One of their beauty advisors spent the better part of two hours walking us around the store to try products on. It was delightful. I spent something like $300. Still, my favorite thing about owning makeup is when my kids borrow it without asking, to use as war-paint.
I can’t tolerate fast fashion or synthetic fabric anymore for environmental and aesthetic reasons. I only want to wear organic, well-made, properly fitted things in wool, cashmere, silk, or cotton, that feel good on my body.
Health-wise, I was just counseled by a psychiatrist to whom I was complaining about the overwhelming, broken, and Kafka-esque nature of the American medical system, to stick to seeing doctors in one university medical system, rather than a dozen unrelated individual doctors in private practice. This way, all my doctors can see my records easily and I don’t have to be responsible for remembering things like when I last had a mammogram or colonoscopy. I’m often bewildered and saddened when I go to a doctor. I don’t want to feel that way about my health.
What’s an aging-related adjustment you refuse to make, and why?
I refuse to color my hair. It started to go gray at the temples during the pandemic. I’m scared of the chemicals in hair-dye. Plus, I find silver, gray, and graying hair to be beautiful and distinguished. I don’t mind if it “ages” me. I don’t mind looking my age. I’ve earned it.
My role as a mother feels more important to me these days than my role as an author, though I also don’t see these identities as mutually exclusive or necessarily in competition. More than anything, I want our kids to thrive. Not just my kids. All kids. This longing has become my subject matter, and the central meaning of my life.
What’s your philosophy on celebrating birthdays as an adult? How do you celebrate yours?
I had Covid on my last birthday. This year, if I’m well enough, I want to go camping or hiking with my family. I like getting my kids out of the city and into wilderness when I can. My philosophy is that everything that can be celebrated, including birthdays, should be celebrated.
The following is attributed to Mark Twain: "Age is a state of mind over matter. If you don't mind, it doesn't matter." At 87, 40 years on from Emily, it's true we are older than we have ever been. However we are also younger than we will ever be, the other side of that coin. I used this quote earlier this morning on another "growing older" post and it seems appropriate here too, so here it is:
Florida Scott-Maxwell, from her book, "The Measure of My Days" which she wrote in her 80's. "Age puzzles me. I thought it was a quiet time. My seventies were interesting and fairly serene, but my eighties are passionate. I grow more intense as I age....Too often our problem is the fervor of life within us. My dear fellow octogenarians, how are we to carry so much life, and what are we to do with it?"
Your interview with the wonderful Emily Raboteau, who, at 47, may seem young to some of us, accurately describes the purpose of interviewing individuals of all ages as “every contributor to this magazine is the oldest they have ever been.” Although I am two decades older than Emily, her responses to your questions were insightful and resonated in my own life. Age doesn’t guarantee wisdom, which is why I like reading these interviews of individuals who are all ages—much younger, my age, and older. My mentor is my youngest sister. She is a GenX, who experienced life differently than I, as a Baby Boomer. And as a mother of a GenZ child (yes, I had a child very late in life!) I’ve had the privilege of remaining current and learning from my daughter’s generation.
Love this Substack! Thank you, Sari!