At 7.05 on Tuesday, Roscoe and I leave the house in a flurry of panic, raised voices and general chaos.  I don’t like being responsible this early in the morning; it’s against my better nature to nurture someone who is even more morning challenged than I am.  Normally this is Craig’s job but he’s in Grenada at some ‘highfalutin’ political  event.  So here I am, cortisol pumped and determined to get the child to the school bus on time. On the way,  I stop to help an elderly local lady who, it transpires, is thumbing a lift on behalf of her daughter and grandchildren.  After waiting for three generations to get into the car, we hurtle down the hill making the bus with a pipsqueak of a second to spare.

Sandra, the hitch-hiking grandma, discovers I am headed for the South Coast, necessitating a drive through Bridgetown, so she decides to ‘visit town’, and on the way we have a very lively discussion about the state of Barbados and the changes it’s going through.  I find out about her views on the upcoming elections and what she thinks about the sewage troubles and its impact on tourism on the South Coast.  She is very forthcoming about “the problems with the youth” and challenges of finding employment for older workers.  I am sorry to have her leave the car – she is a lively, informative and entertaining car companion.

I travel another 20 minutes through heavy traffic before thankfully finding a space in a rapidly filling car park.  It’s 7.45am and I’m opposite the offices of the Barbados Association of Retired Persons (BARP).  I’m here to apply for my BARP card.  To my dismay, the queue is already approximately 50 people long and I hustle to find my spot in the line. When the doors open at 0800 there is a surprising amount of queue jumping and tussle, with quite a few colourful words being ‘Bajaned’ about. It doesn’t take me too long to find myself in the blissful air-conditioned office where pandemonium and chaos ensue due to lack of signage, helpful staff and multiple confusing queuing lines.  It takes some time to find my place, conform to the process and pay my money. But in the intervening  4 hours and 37 minutes, the people watching and banter is priceless.

Older folks care less about conforming or holding back their opinions and they are clear about their sense of right and wrong, so if there is anyone daft enough to try and step out of line, they run the risk of an elderly lynch mob, sharp of tongue and elbow.  And to wile away the time they chat and gossip, not caring a jot about what others may think.  I bury my head in my book, my ears sharp and my mouth closed.  And just like my earlier conversation, I learn much of the elder perspective of Barbados.  Sadly, my conclusion is that there is little joy in the hearts of the elders.  Conversations are formed of complaints and injustices,  of things going wrong, not done right, criticisms, finger pointing, blame.  Not one person offers an opinion or thought focused on solving issues or making things better, not one seems grateful to be there, to be able to stand in line. This negativity is like a poison filled boil;  it’s toxic in its ability to swallow folks into the swamp of disapproval and distrust.  Since when does growing older mean growing grumpy?

If only this was an affliction solely attributable to the elders of Barbados.  But in my experience, this happens across many cultures, countries, organisations.  In the UK we used to have a well-known television character – Victor Meldrew – who made an entire comedy show out of his ability to whinge and whine.  It was very funny because it was so sharply drawn from reality.  But what causes this slide into the pit of complaint and distrust?  I think it’s about our ability, aptitude and attitude towards change.

We all know that the passing of time creates change – it’s an irrefutable fact.  Not one of us stands unmarked as we grow and age. Our individual and collective consciousness towards what’s gone before is a vast mine of knowledge and data, of what’s worked and what hasn’t and what patterns of actions and behaviour have subsequently been formed as a result.  The secret is to know when these hold us back, when they are merely interesting observations from the past or if they may have a bearing on what’s yet to come.  I have sat with senior executives who try to bend employee survey results to fit in with their view of the world and how the organisation used to be; and on one memorable occasion, when working with the CEO and his Executive  team on the culture and values of the organisation,  I listened to my Executive Director inform me of what these would be, based on his experience in the civil service, not on the evidence presented in front of him.

Here in Barbados many still  cling to their history of slavery and servitude as a cloak of context and rationale for all slights and ills. It’s been explained to me that this history justifies why women view other women not as sisters but as competition; and culturally why men don’t feel they have the same responsibilities for contributing to family life.  I don’t know if any of this is true but what is interesting is that when I ask about culture and patterns of behaviour – trying to understand why things work the way they do – quite often the response is to go back 200 years.  I even had one lady tell me she feels the pain of her slave ancestors every day.  If folks always live in the past, how can they bear responsibility for the here and now, for what’s going to go on in the future?

Listening to my BARP compatriots belly aching about the ills and wrongs wakes me up.  We all need to consciously move away from a tendency to complain or pass negative judgement or look back to the “good old days”.  If this becomes our default button, we need to button our mouths until something more constructive comes out.  We too were once young, making mistakes and hopefully learning from them.  Surely as upcoming elders of society we must role-model problem solving, constructive thinking, compassion, understanding,  curiousity and passion for life.  We are the life survivors.  It is our collective responsibility to seek out and support others looking for positive alternatives in a changing world.

And while I may be a card carrying BARP member, with multiple store discounts now available, I’ve no intention of retiring.  My knowledge and skills are helpful in shaping the world of tomorrow. I’m here to make a difference, and my age and cultural history have nothing to do with the value I offer and the change I create.