Page 23 - C.A.L.L. #39 - Spring 2015
P. 23

Living Inter-Generationally at Dancing Rabbit

               "The Times They Are A-Changin'…"



               By Sharon

               When my partner and I first considered moving to Dancing Rabbit, our dear
               friend Patricia responded in great surprise, “But, you’d be the ELDERS!"

               Yes, I agreed, we probably
               would; Dennis was 60 and I

               was 50 at the time, and
               most of the folks at Dancing
               Rabbit were in their 20s and
               30s. And so what? As a
               teacher, I had spent a good
               part of my adult life with
               younger people, and had
               developed some close
               friendships with my former
               students as they grew into

               adulthood. The role of
               "elder" didn’t daunt me at
               all. In fact, the thought of
               living "inter-generationally"       Sharon and Aurelia, playing inter-generationally in the
               really excited me.                  straw on Sharon's roof!

               Soon after I moved to Dancing Rabbit I began to understand what Patricia was
               saying. I began to have a strange craving for conversation with ANYONE who
               looked to be over 40. I started an elders group of the few folks who were over
               45. I began to be very conscious of the fact that I could have been the first
               grade teacher,  or even the parent, of many of my neighbors, setting up an
               expectation for myself that I should behave at all times in a "grown-up" way.


               At the same time, I was very conscious that I didn't want to be teacher or
               parent, and that my neighbors weren't looking for that either. I couldn’t quite
               figure out how to be "me." While I really wanted to be "age-blind," age kept
               seeming to matter.

               It became particularly hard for me when the mostly young interns we call "work
               exchangers" populated DR each summer. With great energy and enthusiasm,
               they created their own twenty-something social world, and most of them,









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