Two weeks into my summer internship here at the John A. Hartford Foundation, my supervisor Chris asked me this deceptively hard-to-answer question. As I mulled over this question during lunch, I realized that while my knowledge about the care of older adults had increased exponentially and I was now aware of the importance of work in health and aging, aging remained a fairly abstract concept. It was something in the hazy future, but not clearly visible enough to feel applicable. Don’t get me wrong—I didn’t think Hartford’s work was silly or unimportant. I understood the importance of the Foundation’s work, but I did not feel that it was something for which I had an intense passion or that felt relevant to me. I first heard about the Hartford Foundation through a program that matches Harvard undergraduates with nonprofit public interest organizations, so I came into this job expecting not so much to gain an interest in aging as to gain experience working in the foundation world and in health care. Now, nine weeks after I first set foot in the Hartford office, much of my thinking on aging and health care has changed. I have not quite become a new champion for geriatric care, but I have come to look at aging from a fresh perspective and realized it is something that I do care about.
What has changed? Over the course of these nine weeks, I imbibed statistics about health and aging that I can now rattle off the top of my head: by 2030, the 65-plus population of the United States will be double that of 2005; older adults currently constitute 50% of hospital occupancy but only 12% of the population; over 80% of adults over 65 have at least one chronic health condition; and more. I worked on a number of different projects: putting together a fundraising toolkit for our Centers of Geriatric Nursing Excellence, compiling lists of nursing curricula resources and nursing research journals, following up on a joint geriatric oncology program we began funding over eight years ago, and putting together a brochure on geriatrics travel scholars, among other smaller tasks. I was also given many opportunities to watch Foundation work in action, on site visits to the American Geriatrics Society (AGS) and the American Federation for Aging Research (AFAR). But even exposure to all of this did not quite bridge the gap between knowing the importance and feeling the relevance of work in aging.
Rather, it is the stories I read and heard during my time here that have made the difference. One story in particular, which I pieced together from a few different events, first began to break the illusion that aging has nothing to do with me. One person, in a public forum, described her parents’ experiences as they grew older and frailer, the troubles that accompanied the compounding of a litany of chronic diseases and other conditions as they remained in their own home, and her father’s desire to die. A few times, I unintentionally overheard her talking on the phone to her parents. Hearing her difficult conversation, while picturing her parents on the other end of the line as she ended the call with, “I love you very much,” broke my heart. These parents, whom I can so easily picture as my own parents a few decades down the road, are not abstract figures but very real people with real families, among whom I might number. It may seem strange that it took this to make me understand that the work we do here in aging and health helps real people, but I have now taken the mission of Hartford to heart. And on top of this, the enthusiasm of the staff over their work helped feed my growing interest in work in aging.
In March, when my classmates were excitedly sharing their plans for the summer, friends would ask me what my plans were. I would receive a blank gaze or nonplussed stare and the response, "Aging? You’re working with old people? Fun." I didn't quite know how to respond, simply shrugging and smiling sheepishly; as much as I was looking forward this experience, I remained unconvinced that work in aging would be exciting. With so many “glamorous” issues in health care like malaria or HIV/AIDS (which are incredibly important, of course), aging is the drab little sparrow vying for attention among a flock of vibrant peacocks and pheasants. But the humble sparrow is no less important or interesting—she only needs you to listen, and you will hear her lovely refrain.
Now, when I return to Harvard for senior year next week and friends ask what I have been up to all summer long, I'll say with much more excitement, "I worked at the Hartford Foundation. We do a lot of good work to improve the care of the aging population, through grants to other institutions." I’m sure there will still be a slew of nonplussed looks directed my way (“Old people? How exciting."), but my response will no longer be a lackluster sheepishness. Instead, I have a desire to make my peers see that aging is relevant to them and that Hartford’s work in aging and health really is exciting. Frankly, I do not know exactly how I will do this, or if it can even be done; the shift in my thinking came only through witnessing aging’s impact firsthand. An experience like that and the feelings it evokes are difficult to convey secondhand.
But I’ll keep trying. Back at school, I'll be recruiting for geriatrics—I have started attempting to persuade my sister, who is studying to become a nurse, and my cousin, who is studying to become a physician, to consider geriatrics. Many of my friends are interested in medicine or social work, and I’ll encourage them to look into geriatrics. I've already got one foot in the door in promoting aging to my peers, through the Hartford Foundation's Facebook page. (Join if you'd like periodic updates about Hartford's work and new blog posts!)