What Are We?

 The Grave Panther Stamp of Approval

We are an organization aiming at an appropriate nonviolent form of public activism. We are the ones with many rings in our wrinkled-bark trunks. It’s illegal to discriminate on the basis of age and so we will not do that here. But it is fair to say we don’t expect much interest or participation from people who do not remember the gas lines and ugly rattletrap cars of the mid-1970s. 

About our name. It’s a tribute and a kind of update. Back in 1970, a lady from Philadelphia (I’m a Philly boy) was inspired by the times to create “The Gray Panthers,” a union of the elderly who fought against age discrimination in its many manifestations. Her name was Maggie Kuhn. There’s more information about her brainchild on one of the Pages here. I liked the panther imagery, the choice of gray as a color for a generation, and I admired her willingness and confidence to rely on the most seasoned among us as a resource for intelligence, effort, and persistence without resort to arson or baseball bats. “The Gray Panthers” still exist in various localities and I don’t want to confuse the issue, but acknowledging that this is a deliberate continuation and extension into a new set of circumstances seems both respectful and worthwhile. So I made an edit of the name and here we are.

What’s different about the Grave Panthers? Our focus is not really our plight as a niche population. There are too many organizations with that kind of focus. Our purpose is to contribute our insight and action from the standpoint of our unique perspective on behalf of the nation as a whole. There are many aspects of traditional life and values that are being lost at an alarming rate. We’re the ones who probably have the most to say about why this is wrong and what the disappearing virtues mean in terms of building and maintaining strong families and citizens who do not forget their responsibilities at home and in the world at large. 

Is this a “grave” matter? Yes it is. Much of the damage being done to the American way of life is serious, some of it is indeed grave, that is, a matter of life and death for those who will follow us when we have gone to our graves. The way we tend to be regarded these days is unfortunate. Most societies through the ages have looked to their living elders as a source of wisdom, knowledge that’s common for youngsters to overlook, and guidance toward what is right rather than what is pleasurable, profitable, or easy. This is not how the 21st Century views or depicts us.

What are we in the eyes of the mass media? We are a long list of attributes with negative connotations. We are mostly useless. We are more an expense than an asset. We suffer from annoying ailments. Fading memory, reduced mobility, poor hearing and eyesight. Unemployed and unemployable. Dangerous drivers, Alzheimers victims in stages ranging from pre- to quasi-vegetative. Comically behind the times in terms of technology, nutrition, music and other entertainment tastes (they see us all watching “Murder She Wrote” reruns because they’re the only plots we can keep up with), human sexuality, and diverse life experience. Worst of all, we are lumped together as boring nuisances. For example, we are a punchline for an advertising campaign that get yucks on the dangers of turning into your father. And everyone knows how many pills we need just to get up and go to sleep every day. And how the only remaining sex difference is the anatomical configuration of the diapers we all need for our weak bladders. They think we’re too dim to read between the lines of present-day medical ethics debates on assisted suicide and euthanasia for those who are more terminal than the debaters are (which is, if my arithmetic still works a little, 100 percent terminal for everyone who draws breath).

But what, I would ask, is wisdom? It’s something that often increases measurably as we come closer to the grave. The focus of thought and revery is less about adventure or acquisition and more about what one is leaving behind for those who will live on after you. Except for the deranged, bucket lists are for those who are having midlife crises of some kind, not for those who no longer think jumping out of an airplane or having sex on a beach in Tahiti or meeting famous people will add even a fraction of one percent to a life’s sum.

In many cases, what we call old age is a time for considering what has been learned, accomplished, overcome, done wrong, and why. The answer to the why’s is a treasure that can be shared with those who have not trod as many miles down (or up) the winding path of years. If we are silent, it is because we don’t believe anyone is listening or wants to hear what we might have to offer.

Some particular advantages of this time are, ironically, the very (so-called) infirmities that make us useless in the eyes of the young. Failing memory is for most part of a process that  begins with the short-term stuff used to navigate routine interactions day to day. Phone numbers, what I watched on TV last night, the name of that friend my daughter just introduced me to, etc. Same with poorer vision, hearing, taste buds and teeth, agility, physical energy, and sexual desire. Not so much in the moment, we can perhaps experience different perceptions through the temporal haze. To what end? Loss of short-term distractions actually pushes one toward the past, as does the growing nearness of the time when we might be rejoining the already departed — fathers, mothers, teachers, elders who were wise way back when, and people shaped by different, possibly far more challenging circumstances than we or our own progeny are living through. We can actually seem to be getting glimpses beyond the veil of death, and who’s to say that’s not really happening?

Everyone has to speak for himself about such things. (I’m too set in my obsolete habits to fuss with pronouns.) The wisest man I ever knew was my paternal grandfather, who is still in my thoughts in one way or another every day. Some topics I would venture an opinion on come out of my mouth with an authority derived from my faith in him, because I have not seen his equal in all the years I’ve been taking up space on planet earth.

This post is just a handshake of introduction. If you find you can agree with some of what I’ve said and would like to consider taking part in a new/old enterprise, please read follow-on posts to learn how this site is put together, how to use it, and how (if you want to) you can join The Grave Panthers more officially. Otherwise you can just come here for a visit whenever you feel the urge. No one’s going to be twisting your arm about that.

We’ll be doing our best to honor not embarrass you, Maggie…

Margaret Eliza Kuhn (1905-1995)