This is "Pushing 50": Author Carvell Wallace Responds to The Oldster Magazine Questionnaire
"Aging hasn’t really taken all of the self-doubt away. It’s just turned down the volume maybe and given me tools to deal with it better. "
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, Carvell Wallace, author most recently of the acclaimed memoir, Another Word for Love, 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. Oldster is an ongoing study of the experience of aging at every phase of life.
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. (I just published an essay by 70something Judith Hannah Weiss on Monday.) 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.
Carvell Wallace is a writer and podcaster who covers race, art, culture, film, and music for a wide variety of news outlets. He has written profiles for GQ, Esquire, Glamour, The New Yorker, and The New York Times. His podcasts include Closer Than They Appear, which explores race and identity in America, and Finding Fred, which focuses on Fred Rogers’s teachings and their application against systems of oppression. In 2019, Wallace co-authored The Sixth Man with Andre Iguodala, the Golden State Warriors forward. Another Word for Love is Wallace’s first memoir. He lives in Oakland, California.
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How old are you?
49, 50 in October.
Is there another age you associate with yourself in your mind? If so, what is it? And why, do you think?
Probably like 70. My whole life I’ve felt too young for myself. When I was 10 I thought I was secretly 20. In my 30’s I thought I was secretly in my 50’s. The target keeps moving. It has to end at some point, though the rules of calculus suggest this can go on infinitely. At the same time, I think I might always be 9 years old? Can both things be true? Yes. Time is fake, I’m like 80% sure of it.
My whole life I’ve felt too young for myself. When I was 10 I thought I was secretly 20. In my 30’s I thought I was secretly in my 50’s. The target keeps moving. It has to end at some point, though the rules of calculus suggest this can go on infinitely. At the same time, I think I might always be 9 years old? Can both things be true? Yes. Time is fake, I’m like 80% sure of it.
Do you feel old for your age? Young for your age? Just right? Are you in step with your peers?
Somebody at the grocery store recently threw a whole fit when I told them how old I was. “I thought you were like 30!” I made some joke about staying hydrated and minding my own business, but actually if it’s anything (besides genes and healthy dose of Black Don’t Crack) it’s probably having respect for people. I think it’s good for my spirit to not be in resentment all the time. Maybe for other people, spite is an effective fuel source! But I’m not built that way, unfortunately.
What do you like about being your age?
I like knowing stuff. I like seeing things develop before they happen. I like understanding what’s going on (in some cases.) I like feeling like I don’t have to prove myself to everyone 24/7. Now it’s more like 2/3. I like knowing how to dress. I like budgeting. I like knowing how to keep house. I like knowing that reading in bed with some cookies and an ice-cold sparkling water can be as satisfying as any night out. I like having money. I like knowing what I’m going to do with my life because I’m already doing it. This is it. I like knowing this is it.
I don’t hate myself nearly as compulsively as I used to. I like myself and feel I’m good company and a fine, interesting, and worthwhile fellow. Of course, as soon as I wrote that I immediately started doubting it, so aging hasn’t really taken all of the self-doubt away. It’s just turned down the volume maybe and given me tools to deal with it better.
What is difficult about being your age?
I cramped up in bed the other day and it was embarrassing af. I’ve just learned that my cholesterol and blood sugar are not where they should be, which should have not come as a surprise, but somehow did. I don’t love how everything has changed and I feel like I’m the only one who remembers random shit like the time Forest Whittaker was on Diff’rent Strokes and how at the recycling center at the corner of Dwight and MLK you had to climb into the dumpster and recycle your own stuff. That was fun, and now it’s condos or some shit. Everything is condos.
I guess knowing I’m going to die can be difficult because while sometimes I’m at peace with that, and even motivated by it, other times I’m like, “Fuck you mean I’m gonna die???” Also, everybody is 35 all of a sudden and I don’t know where all these people came from. Makes me feel old, which I think means I feel useless.
What is surprising about being your age, or different from what you expected, based on what you were told?
Definitely I thought pushing 50 I’d be out here with gray hair, using a large button remote and feeding pigeons. Only one of those three things is true. But actually, I’m feeling pretty good. I lift weights and go dancing, and my kids are out of the house. These days I wake up with energy, feeling relatively clear-headed and hopeful. I love a lot of people and am loved by a lot of people and we try to give each other plenty of opportunities to express that love. I really think that helps!
What has aging given you? Taken away from you?
It’s given me gratitude, and it’s taken away fear.
How has getting older affected your sense of yourself, or your identity?
I don’t hate myself nearly as compulsively as I used to. I like myself and feel I’m good company and a fine, interesting, and worthwhile fellow. Of course, as soon as I wrote that I immediately started doubting it, so aging hasn’t really taken all of the self-doubt away. It’s just turned down the volume maybe and given me tools to deal with it better.
I snuck into June Jordan’s Poetry for the People program for a semester in my 20’s and she always felt like an aging icon. She was so strident and certain and courageous, even though she had this little voice. Not to mention that she was unyieldingly brilliant as an artist. I always thought I would try to grow up and be the version of her that was true to me.
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 might throw an actual party for 50 which is a thing I don’t think I’ve ever done in my adult life. I’m looking forward to that. I’m also terrified but it’s worth it, I think. After that, I don’t know that my milestones are “age-related.” I'd like to get a show on TV, and I’d like to have land with friends.
What has been your favorite age so far, and why? Would you go back to this age if you could?
I remember my 20s in New York as being largely fun, but there’s no way I’d go back unless I could do that thing where I know everything I know now, and I buy Google stock, and stop the Rwandan Genocide. But if that’s not available, I’d have to give the boring answer and say that my current age is the best one. I fought pretty hard to be here and alive now. I went through significant stretches of depression, suicidal ideations, and untreated addiction. So, I’m in some kind of gratitude on a daily basis to even be this age. I wouldn’t trade it for much of anything.
Is there someone who is older than you, who makes growing older inspiring to you? Who is your aging idol and why?
I snuck into June Jordan’s Poetry for the People program for a semester in my 20’s and she always felt like an aging icon. She was so strident and certain and courageous, even though she had this little voice. Not to mention that she was unyieldingly brilliant as an artist. I always thought I would try to grow up and be the version of her that was true to me.
What aging-related adjustments have you recently made, style-wise, beauty-wise, health-wise?
I prioritize sleep. Nothing is more important. Everything else can wait. It’s time to sleep. I also try to eat better than I used to, which should not be hard because I used to eat straight garbage, but it’s still a struggle sometimes. I started growing my hair out four years ago and maybe that’s because I can’t believe I still have it and I want to make the most of it while I still can. That’s part of the reason but not all of it. In my 30’s I really started dressing like…the way I wanted to dress, with the accessories, scarves, kerchiefs, hats that implies, and I have not backed away from that, and I have no intention to. My skincare routine has simplified. I found the fussier I was, the fussier I had to be. I drink a lot of water and moisturize and try to let the rest go.
I remember my 20s in New York as being largely fun, but there’s no way I’d go back unless I could do that thing where I know everything I know now, and I buy Google stock, and stop the Rwandan Genocide. But if that’s not available, I’d have to give the boring answer and say that my current age is the best one.
What’s an aging-related adjustment you refuse to make, and why?
I don’t think I’m going to get married again. That could change! But right now, it feels particularly far-fetched. I was a married stay-at-home parent and happily put a lot of this life on hold during that time which was wonder-filled, and deeply beautiful! But now that the kids are adults, I’m pretty happy to be able to move about freely, having some of my time and independence back along with a little money. Anyone who wants to partner with me has to be OK with that, which I’ve learned can be a lot to ask from someone. Anyway, I feel like I have a window: the most time-consuming parts of parenting are behind me, my inability to write for age-related reasons is probably forthcoming, so this is really it, the clock is ticking. My 21-year-old recently joked: “Dad’s married to the grind,” and I’m not sure if I found it funny or concerning, but it might be true, for now, anyway. I like Gen Z. They have a way of putting emotionally heavy and complex things into concise and funny words.
But I have to say it also worries me, like maybe I should get married or partner up because that’s what’s normal and right! Also don’t we need to partner up so we can take care of each other when we’re old? I have a friend in NYC who is wrestling with some of the same questions. I’ve known them since we were like 21, and recently at breakfast we were like, “Well, let’s circle back at 60 and see how it’s going, like if we need to link up and combine resources, aka get married.” We’re partially but entirely joking, I think.
I fought pretty hard to be here and alive now. I went through significant stretches of depression, suicidal ideations, and untreated addiction. So, I’m in some kind of gratitude on a daily basis to even be this age. I wouldn’t trade it for much of anything.
What’s your philosophy on celebrating birthdays as an adult? How do you celebrate yours?
Historically I’ve spent the day reading and turning off my phone. I order barbecue, drink strawberry lemonade, take a lot of naps, and generally pamper myself. It’s pretty great. I’ll probably continue that tradition but this time I may throw a party too because I feel like it’s kind of unfair to my friends to not give them a real chance to show up and show love! I think we all love showing love!
I finished reading Carvell Wallace's book a few nights ago ---stayed up till nearly 2 am to do so--- and have been recommending it to everyone. It's a memoir and a wisdom teaching. Check out this absolute wow of a passage:
“To be a man as I learned it was to be contained, held within, under control. Unripped and unbroken. Everything I learned about the body early on was about control and containment. Men were not to leak or make too much noise or express too much or lose a grip on anything. Not on your body. Not on anyone else’s. This makes the world a fundamentally terrifying and destabilizing place for men because what the earth is, at its spiritual core, is a thing uncontained. It is liquid and explosive, the chaos of leaves and rivers, mountains of lava, fecund and overflowing.
To be a man as manhood was taught to me is to be fiercely at odds with the earth, which is to say it is fiercely at odds with the divine. It is to be in battle with the divine because to be a man is to be in control and the divine is the complete opposite of control. This is why men are so violent and angry and destructive to ourselves and to you and to the world. We teach each other to hate what we cannot control, and nothing, literally nothing, can be truly controlled.
Look at the earth, how it insists itself upon our buildings and shopping malls and golf courses and hiking trails. Look at how we have tried for centuries to overwhelm the earth and instead the earth has overwhelmed us, calmly, innocently, and with all the tender savagery of a stream running down a gentle slope. What is a body for in the midst of that kind of simple and inevitable passing?”
Carvell was a student in a writing class I taught at NYU a very long time ago. I was in my 40's and back in school. Classrooms were laboratories where you could try things out—practices you were experiencing as a student, could be “played” with in the classes you taught. I kept a teaching journal and even if I didn’t have physical evidence of the impact he had on all of us in that time and space, he was memorable as the best teacher in the room.