Until a few years ago, doctors told Deanna Mann, 85, she was “healthy as a horse.” She lived independently in an apartment and enjoyed playing bridge with friends twice a week. Then one leg suddenly swelled up. The other followed soon after. Mann was diagnosed with lymphedema, a treatable but incurable condition that made it difficult to walk. 

She started to fall. After hitting her head in a fall, she moved to an assisted living community and used a walker to get around. But Mann still hoped she could get back on her feet and eventually go home. Then her daughter pointed out that wasn’t likely. 

“That did me in,” she said. Mann struggled with depression. On bad days, she cried. She felt totally alone. She grieved over the loss of her old life. “You’ve got to give up the life you have before,” she said. It wasn’t easy. 

Many older adults will eventually deal with a temporary or permanent, age-related disability, whether it’s vision loss, hearing loss or reduced mobility, or issues such as fatigue or constant pain due to chronic illness. 

“It can be traumatic,” said Kimberly Knight, director of the caregiver support program at the Senior Source, a nonprofit social services agency in Dallas. “It can mean giving up a level of independence that the person has been accustomed to for some time.” 

A New View 

By some estimates, as many as 60 million Americans of all ages are living with a disability. About 36 percent of people aged 65 and older report having at least one disability, according to the US Census. Rates of disability increase greatly in very old age; the majority of those 85 or older are unable to perform all activities of daily living without help.

Many resources offer practical tips for older adults trying to adapt their home environments and daily routines to compensate for disabilities. But newly disabled older adults must also learn how to cope emotionally and psychologically, according to Asma Jafri, MD, chair of the department of family medicine at the University of California, Riverside (UCR) and part of UCR’s Aging Initiative, a group of researchers focused on aging-related issues. 

“If you adjust emotionally, you are more likely to thrive and to succeed in maintaining function,” Jafri said. “If a person doesn’t adjust well, that may trigger a negative cycle.” Feelings of depression or discouragement can lead to withdrawal from social connections and a less active lifestyle, which in turn leads to even more loss of function. 

To cope, older adults facing disability must adopt a new view of themselves and the world. 

“Living in a world not built for us can be an occasion for resourcefulness and a source of frustration,” wrote Rosemarie Garland-Thomson, PhD, a professor of English and bioethics at Emory University. “Living with a disability can be hard work … the burden of stigma can be heavy; managing psycho-emotional changes can be wearing; traversing the breach between us and the nondisabled can attenuate our energy and resources.” 

Building Resilience

One key factor in coping is resilience—the ability to persist, bounce back and flourish when faced with stressors, according to Arielle Silverman, PhD, research director at the American Foundation for the Blind. In her previous position at the University of Washington Medical Center, Silverman was lead researcher for a study of resilience in people with multiple sclerosis. When participants were asked about what resilience was, and what made them resilient, their answers seemed paradoxical. 

“People would talk about having a fighting spirit, not giving up and continuing to fight,” she said. “At the same time, those same people talked about acceptance and how important that was. It does seem like you need both—the drive to keep participating in life, but at the same time, accepting the fact that you do have a disability and some things are going to change.” 

That study identified facilitators of resilience, such as coping skills (like humor, flexibility and optimism), social connections, a sense of meaning and purpose, proactive planning for practical needs, and overall physical wellness.

The study also named barriers to resilience: burnout, negative thoughts and feelings, social challenges (friends’ lack of understanding, for example), stigma and physical fatigue. Study participants talked about thriving, not just surviving. “It’s not dwelling on what you can’t do, it’s relishing what you can do,” as one 56-year-old male participant shared.

Becoming disabled “doesn’t necessarily mean that the quality of your life will diminish, but it does mean that you have to take active steps to accommodate the disability,” said Silverman. 

Staying Engaged

Eve Bostic admired the resilience of her mother, Mary, 91, as health problems gradually took away her ability to walk. Even as her disabilities progressed, Bostic said, her mother outperformed doctors’ predictions time and again. 

“My mother is a very determined woman,” Bostic said. “She compensated by doing other things that her body still could do.”

When she could no longer bend over or kneel, Mary found a way to keep gardening. She read gardening magazines, ordered plants and seeds and directed family and friends who stepped in to help, pointing out what to plant where. 

Bostic credits her mother’s resilience to her life experiences. Mary contracted polio in her teens; doctors predicted she would never walk again. She worked hard at rehabilitation and proved them wrong. By the 1980s, Mary began experiencing post-polio-syndrome symptoms that led her to use a cane, then a four-prong cane, then a walker, then a rollator and finally a wheelchair and scooter. Mary fought each step of the way, maintaining what function she could, until a stroke in 2022 left her bedridden. 

Taking a cue from her mother, Bostic, 63, pushes herself to stay active. After falling and breaking her leg a year ago, Bostic is back to carrying water down long flights of stairs to the chickens and goats she keeps in her yard on a mountainside in West Virginia. Bostic could give up the livestock—she doesn’t rely on them for income—but she’s determined to stay at it as long as she can. She’s more careful too. 

“I don’t trip lightly down those steps anymore,” she said. “But I think it’s important to keep doing this. Use it or lose it.” 

Leon Miller, 89, likes to joke that he went “from the outhouse to the penthouse” over the course of his life—growing up in a poor family, getting an education and establishing a successful career as an architect. That determination, honed over a lifetime, keeps him going even after two dozen surgeries on his knees and legs, including two knee replacements. He can’t climb stairs or walk around the block; he uses a walker to get around at home. 

“My heart, lungs and kidneys are all fine, but my bones and joints are shot,” he said.

Finding ways to help others can contribute to a feeling of empowerment for someone with disabilities 

He misses golfing, but he’s outlived most of his golf buddies anyway. He’s retired but continues to manage his real estate investment in a shopping center. He taught himself to trade stocks online. 

“I’ve learned to focus on the future, as opposed to what I’ve lost and what’s in the past,” he said. 

Miller does grouse a bit about his adult children, who urge him to move into an assisted living community due to safety concerns. That’s a common situation, but a 2019 article in the Innovations in Aging journal, “Meeting Challenges of Late Life Disability Proactively,” encourages care providers and family members to give “greater attention to the adaptive potential of older adults.” 

“Disability and aging … have both been stigmatized, yet also have the potential to reveal human strengths and resiliency,” the authors wrote. Proactive adaptations—such as finding ways to help others or looking for solace and meaning in spirituality—can contribute to an older adult’s sense of empowerment and psychological well-being. 

Those two strategies have helped Nancy Becher, 65, live with a long list of disabilities, some due to a car accident nine years ago and some related to chronic diseases including Crohn’s, glaucoma and diabetes. 

After struggling with depression for more than a year—“I just wanted to die,” she said—she found hope in a support group and in her faith. She learned to focus on what she can still do. She can’t hike any more, but she can sit outside her camper along the Tennessee River and enjoy nature. She also found purpose through a nonprofit she founded called Invisible Warriors, which supports people with “invisible” disabilities, such as chronic pain or fatigue due to autoimmune disorders, which can severely restrict the lives of people who may otherwise look perfectly healthy. 

“I realized that my disabilities were life-changing but not life-ending,” Becher said. 

Becher’s experience reflects psychology’s concept of “secondary gains,” according to Pamela Garber, a therapist in private practice in New York. 

“Something that’s negative, that’s a struggle, can have a benefit also,” she said. Finding and appreciating those secondary gains can help older adults adjust to a new normal. 

The Importance of Being Independent

Research suggests that an older adult’s emotional adjustment to disability also relates closely to the person’s perceptions of dependence and independence. For many people, losing independence represents their biggest fears. They might accept limits on their activities but fight any change that makes them feel dependent. 

If older adults can maintain control over how much assistance they need, they’re likely to feel less helpless and more able to cope, according to a 2000 study. Caretakers and family members can support an older adult by understanding and respecting the person’s need for independence, however they may define that, even if it involves a measure of risk. 

That’s how Deanna Mann is beginning to adjust—by finding ways to maintain her sense of independence and feel more at home in her assisted living community. She decorated her apartment to her liking, without help. 

She negotiated a compromise when staff members wanted to assist her with showering: the aide waits outside her bathroom door, at the ready if needed, while she showers in private. She helps other residents with more severe disabilities when she can. She’s working with a home care assistant who provides a treatment that’s reducing the swelling in her legs, preventing further loss of function. She sounds upbeat as she talks about making new friends. 

“I think each person in his own way has got to find their own way … where you’re not in depression, and where you’re looking at your situation as not necessarily all bad,” she said. “I have my down days and my good days. I’m still not fully adjusted, but I’m as adjusted as I think I’m going to get.” 

After her mother passed away, Jeanette Leardi invited female friends to her home for a special gathering. It wasn’t exactly a memorial service; many attendees never knew her mother. Instead, it was a healing ritual for Leardi. The group lit candles, played music and took turns reading favorite poems or writings. Then Leardi took a cup, which her mother had drunk from as a baby, poured milk into it and drank it.

Looking back, 25 years later, Leardi said the gathering helped her through a momentous transition: the end of years spent as her mother’s caregiver, and the transition from being a daughter toward her own elderhood.

“That was so impactful for me,” said Leardi, now 70, a social gerontologist and community educator in Portland, OR. “When someone dies, the person who was the caregiver loses a kind of identity.” The ritual helped her move forward. 

Seasons of Life

While there are many milestones to celebrate for youth and young adults—graduations, weddings, bar or bat mitzvahs, first communion or confirmation ceremonies—older adults have few. 

Adulthood involves many transitions. Parents send children off to college and become empty nesters. Professional careers come to an end at retirement. Older adults sell a beloved home to downsize to a condo or a retirement community. Longtime roles—such as caregiver for a spouse or parent—conclude; new roles begin. These transitions are life-altering, yet most pass uncelebrated.

“Becoming a grandparent is an incredible transition in someone’s life,” said Martha Pollack, 68, an adjunct professor at Touro College Graduate School of Social Work in New York. “There should be an opportunity to acknowledge that with some kind of a celebration.” 

When milestones slip by unnoticed, feelings of isolation and disconnection may remain. Rites of passages help people attend fully to key moments in life spiritually, psychologically and socially, according to Ronald L. Grimes, author of Deeply into the Bone: Re-inventing Rites of Passage (2000). 

“If people don’t mark a transition, they are unlikely to remember it,” he said. “Marking a transition with a ritual makes it memorable and gives it new shape.”  

Rituals Matter 

Why are there so few significant celebrations for older adults? For much of human history, few people lived past what is today considered middle age. Given that many rites of passage evolved over thousands of years, there has been relatively little time for such observances to emerge for older people. Ageism factors in too. Many milestones in older adulthood involve at least some element of loss; on the surface, it may appear they aren’t worth commemorating.  

“Society assumes older age is nothing but downhill and deterioration and decline, so there’s nothing to celebrate,” Leardi said. 

Still, it’s important to mark milestones. Rituals create a sense of completion—a closing of one phase of life and the beginning of another—and provide time for reflection. Gatherings allow friends and family to offer recognition and support during a transition. Rites of passage provide a sense of stability and continuity and tie people to their heritage, ancestry and religious faith or spirituality. They can impart a sense of meaning and purpose. 

“Rituals help us find and define the patterns and cycles of our individual lives that might otherwise seem to be random happenings if viewed separately,” wrote Abigail Brenner, MD, in Psychology Today.

More Than a Birthday 

Kathy Armey remembers seeing the colorful quinceañera gowns in the windows of shops in her neighborhood in Dallas. Quinceañeras are 15th birthday parties for young women, celebrated in Mexico and among Hispanic Americans. 

Armey yearned for an excuse to wear one of those beautiful, elaborate gowns. So she bought herself a gown and a tiara, and, after a year of planning, hosted a 50th birthday bash she called her “cincuentanera.” Friends and family members traveled from far and wide for a night of dancing, food, a DJ and an elaborate cake. 

“My view was, I’m not going to ever be any younger than 50 after this,” she said. “There’s no point moaning and groaning about getting older, so I might as well make it a celebration.” 

Now 58, Armey still enjoys looking through the book she assembled of photos from her cincuentenera. The event helped maintain ties with friends and family who might have otherwise fallen out of touch. She would like to do something big for her 60th birthday too, but she hasn’t yet decided what that will be. 

Some adults are marking age milestones by inventing or re-inventing rites of passage for their later years. A growing number of Jewish adults, for example, are choosing to celebrate second bar or bat mitzvahs. Unlike adult bar or bat mitzvahs for an adult who never had the celebration as a teen, second bar mitzvahs typically take place at age 83, a nod to 70 (an expected lifespan, per Psalms 90:10 in the Bible) plus 13 (the age of a typical bar/bat mitzvah.)

“Reaching age 70, then, can be considered a new start—and therefore, age 83 would be the equivalent to reaching [bar/bat] mitzvah age again,” wrote Howard Lev in Reform Judaism’s blog. “This is also a great way to keep older congregants involved in synagogue life.” 

Unlike the rite celebrated with young teens, second bar/bat mitzvahs come toward the end of a long life. 

“This is not about your parents telling you to do something, it’s not about Hebrew school, it’s not about the culmination of these years of study and all the pressure and expectations associated with it,” said Avi Winokur, a Philadelphia rabbi. “It’s really a free-will situation…. it is an opportunity for older adults to reaffirm their commitment to Judaism and bring their loved ones together.” 

Celebrating a ‘Cancerversary’ 

Many older adults, sooner or later, face health issues that may require arduous periods of treatment or rehab. Bonnie Annis, 64, a writer and photographer, urges fellow survivors to mark a “cancerversary” (an anniversary of a key moment in their cancer journey, such as the completion of chemotherapy) by throwing a party, completing a “bucket list” activity, planting a tree, taking a vacation or getaway or simply spending some time in reflection. 

Annis recently traveled to Israel to mark the eighth anniversary of her breast cancer surgery. It was the first overseas trip she’d taken since the surgery. Because she has breast prostheses, she was apprehensive about getting through security, but it worked out and the trip went well. 

Annis has celebrated each anniversary with some new adventure. 

“I can’t imagine letting one single year postcancer pass without celebrating,” she said. “Being able to celebrate is a way of saying to cancer, ‘I’m still here! You didn’t win.’ By celebrating, you acknowledge the difficulties you’ve overcome and shift your focus toward the future.” 

Reinventing Milestone Moments 

Retirement is a big deal. And while workplaces do often hold celebrations for retiring colleagues, many are low-key, even dreary affairs.

“Retirement parties often feel sort of sheepish,” said Kitty Eisele, 59, host of Twenty Four Seven, a podcast about caregiving. “You have people standing around with plastic cups of wine and a couple of managers remembering the [retiring person’s] glory days.” 

That kind of celebration doesn’t fit the retirees Eisele knows, whose plates are full of passion projects they couldn’t tackle while working full time. 

“I feel like these celebrations should be amazing,” she said. “They should feel more like launch parties.”

Because he’s an expert in ritual, years ago author Grimes was called on to design a celebration for a colleague, Bob, who was retiring. He devised an elaborate, joyful and serious affair, including a cord-cutting ritual to mark the end of Bob’s career at the university. Grimes distributed a printed program for the event; students and retired colleagues offered reflections during the time for “Words of Appreciation, Recollection and Bedevilment.” 

“The rite, like Bob himself, is still remembered and talked about,” Grimes wrote. 

There are ways to commemorate the change when you downsize and leave a longtime home.

Another big transition that usually goes unmarked: leaving a longtime family home to downsize or move to assisted living. 

“Many [older adults] struggle with leaving behind a home where they’ve created so many memories,” said Missy Buchanan, author of Joy Boosters: 120 Ways to Encourage Older Adults. “Trying to decide what to take, what to sell and what to give away can be overwhelming.” 

Buchanan proposed a few ways to better commemorate the transition: videotape the family home, room by room, before moving, with the outgoing resident(s) narrating about treasured memories or precious items in each room. At the new home, invite family, friends and perhaps a clergy person for a “Bless this New Home” gathering.

A Turning Point

In retrospect, Leardi sees the ceremony after her mother’s death as a turning point that ultimately led to her current work. A few years later, after her father passed away, she went back to school to earn a degree in gerontology. Today, she writes and speaks to empower older people to identify and share their wisdom with others.

Caregiving showed her how little older adults are valued in the community. Though she didn’t know it at the time, the healing ritual “was the beginning of the recognition that there was something I needed to be doing about all this,” she said. 

Leardi would like to see communities mark a rite of passage for elderhood—the point when a person reaches the threshold of older age, however that might be defined. Some Unitarian churches, as well as goddess and earth-based spirituality groups, have experimented with that, with rituals such as croning and saging ceremonies, to mark the arrival at elderhood for older women and men respectively. 

Even solitary rituals, or simple acts, can make transitions more meaningful, Professor Pollack noted. The day after retiring from her longtime job at a social services agency, she joined a new gym. Regular visits to the gym now give her days structure and happiness.

You need to be inventive to celebrate unconventional milestones.

“Even if it’s not a formal ritual, we can take small, personal steps to mark these transitions,” she said.

Pollack believes that if more transitions in later life were celebrated in positive ways, it might help combat ageism. Communal, multigenerational celebrations of rites of passage in older adulthood could help model “how to age successfully and how to take on new roles in life,” she said. 

“That could, in turn, inspire younger people not to be afraid to move on in life. We owe it to our children and our grandchildren to create a positive image of older age, to show them what it means to move forward in life, and the importance of experience and wisdom.” 

For now, older adults who choose to celebrate unconventional milestones need to be inventive and willing to experiment. Grimes thinks it’s worth the effort.

“Rituals are like markers on a forest trail,” he said. “Sometimes those markers could be wrong and could lead you astray, but having no markers is worse.” 

Every Monday morning for nearly a year, Judy Sherry, 82, has called the office of her senator, Roy Blunt (R-Missouri), with the same question: When is he going to get the courage to do something about gun violence? 

“He’s retiring soon, for God’s sake,” she said.

Those weekly calls seemed to make no difference, but that hasn’t deterred Sherry. As founder and president of Grandparents for Gun Safety, she calls, writes, marches, speaks to groups and fields TV interviews—anything to get the message out for commonsense gun control. 

“All people have the right to feel safe from gun violence in their communities,” she said.  

The impact of activists like Sherry is likely to grow, as more than a million people 55 and older join the ranks of the retired each year in the United States. Like Sherry, these older activists come armed with their own superpowers: lifetimes of experience, a supply of available time and a sense of perspective that strengthens them for the long game. 

“From marching to improving road safety; from envelope-stuffing to making calls; from being arrested to circulating petitions; from fundraising to letter writing; from cooking in a community kitchen to starting an urban farm—for these people, it is not too late to try to save the world,” wrote Thelma Reese and BJ Kittredge, coauthors of How Seniors are Saving the World: Retirement Activism to the Rescue! (2020).

A Quiet Force 

Media attention tends to spotlight young activists like Greta Thunberg, a teen climate change activist, or Malala Yousafzai, who won a Nobel Peace Prize at age 17. Older activists who’ve worked in their communities for years are often overlooked, according to Loretta Graceffo, a correspondent for the media watchdog group Fairness & Accuracy in Reporting. 

“By devaluing the wisdom and experience of elders in favor of uplifting a handful of teen activists for clicks, [the] media underplay the collective power that can come from intergenerational cooperation,” she wrote. 

Older activists may not create the same media splash, but they’re a quieter, more effective force, said Tommy Steed, 73, chairman of the Association of BellTel Retirees. The nonprofit works to protect the pensions and benefits of retirees from Verizon and the original Bell System. 

Steed contrasts his current role to his rowdier approach as a union steward in his 20s. Back then, he relished tangling with the police on picket lines. Now, his approach is more low-key. Steed partners with fellow retirees, many of them former managers who once sat on the opposite side of the bargaining table. 

“Older activists are stoic and strategic,” he said. “We’re quiet, but that’s how to be effective. Younger activists are a mob scene for the media. They make a lot of noise. We don’t want to make a lot of noise; we want to be effective.” 

A Wealth of Experience      

Older adult activists often bring a more nuanced perspective and broader knowledge of communities. As Graceffo wrote, “With age often comes access to institutional infrastructures and financial resources, as well as a deeper understanding of history.”  

“We’ve had more time to make mistakes than younger activists,” said John Fullinwider, 70, a lifelong community organizer in Dallas and co-founder of Mothers Against Police Brutality. “Sometimes you can see the problems with greater depth after you’ve had longer experience with them.”

Fullinwider points to historic victories that most people now take for granted: the abolition of slavery, the 40-hour work week, women’s right to vote.

His advice: “Never lose your youthful idealism. Pace yourself for the long-distance run. You lose until you win. It’s good to have that sense of history about it.” 

I’ve learned that you don’t bury your head like an ostrich. You get out there and deal with it.

—Karlin Chan

Wisdom and experience empowered Karlin Chan to act when Asian Americans in the Chinatown neighborhood of New York were targeted during the pandemic. He started a block watch group to patrol neighborhoods. Having lived in Chinatown for more than 60 years and worked as a community organizer for decades, Chan has connections throughout the city and with the New York City police department. 

“Hate crimes have been around here since I was a kid,” he said. “I’ve lived the history, and I’ve learned that you don’t bury your head like an ostrich. You get out there and deal with it.” 

For Sherry, being strategic means patience—staying realistic about what can be accomplished immediately while taking small steps in the meantime. After learning that many gun-related deaths are due to accidents or suicide, her organization started Lock It for Love. They’ve distributed more than 5,000 free, high-quality gun locks at community events. 

Yes, Sherry said, she’d like more sweeping reforms, but until then, she’s convinced the gun locks have saved lives. 

“Clearly, we have saved someone from suicide, or some little kid from picking up an unlocked, loaded gun,” she said. 

Inspired by the 1960s

Unlike their Greatest Generation predecessors, many of today’s generation of older adults came of age during the Vietnam War era in the 1960s. For some, it sparked a lifetime of activism. For others, that formative time created an emotional connection that has lingered, even if career and family obligations limit their ability to stay in the fight. 

The Vietnam era is very much intertwined in the story of Henry Stoever’s activism. His father was forced to join the Nazi war effort after attempting to immigrate to the United States in the 1930s. Stoever was born in Germany in 1948; his family came to the United States in 1951. Stoever grew up enduring taunts from kids who called him “Adolph” and watching stories about the Holocaust on Walter Cronkite’s Twentieth Century documentaries. When war was in the news in the1960s, Stoever worried that Americans “were the Nazis in Vietnam.” 

Those formative experiences led to Stoever’s lifelong work in peace activism. Since 2003, Stoever has stood at the same street corner in Kansas City, MO, every Tuesday, waving a sign that reads, “Imagine a world free of nuclear weapons.” Along with other local activists, he’s been arrested numerous times for trespassing during protests at a nuclear weapons plant; recently he was convicted and faces a trial in September. He’s looking forward to making his case to the jury. 

In talking about his work, Stoever seems immune to despair, even if his efforts haven’t led to significant changes.

When the news is upsetting, activism can ease a sense of despair. 

“My activism comes from a deep caring for others,” he said. “Activism is a sign of hope, faith and love.”  

As a teen, Lauren Mayer canvassed for presidential candidate George McGovern, spurred by her fears for her older brothers, who were eligible for the draft. Today, at 63, Mayer is earning a living as a songwriter in the Los Angeles area but finds ways to contribute when she can. Inspired by the protest singers of the 1960s and early 1970s, she created her own twist for the digital age. She writes and records a new song every week, offering her sassy take on issues ranging from reproductive choice to climate change to LGBTQIA+ rights. Some 20,000 people follow her on YouTube and Facebook. 

“I don’t sing as well or look as cute as I did when I was younger, but I think my writing is better because I have so much more life experience,” Mayer said. 

Mayer performs at rallies and donates the use of her songs for fundraisers for groups like the Raging Grannies, a network of older protesters.

“The news these days is often so upsetting that people feel paralyzed,” she said. “For me, this project completely eases my sense of despair.” 

Time to Devote

Another key advantage that older activists bring to their causes: time. Once they’ve reached their 60s or 70s, many have paid off the mortgage and the kids’ college tuition. They can afford to retire or work fewer hours. 

Arch Mayfield, 73, still works part time as a writing instructor at Texas Christian University in Fort Worth. He’s involved in helping support refugees in the community through his church. When US immigration officials began separating children from their families at the border, he began standing at a street corner with a few other activists once a week, holding signs showing children in cages.  

During elections, Mayfield serves as an election judge, working shifts that start at 5:30 a.m. and continue until the polls close. (Every election in his county requires a set of election judges and clerks to represent both the Democratic and Republican parties.) The work pays a small stipend, but younger people with children and full-time jobs usually can’t step in. 

“I see that involvement as a way of countering voter suppression and to help ensure the widest possible participation,” he said. 

Once you open your eyes to injustices, it’s hard to be happy without doing something about it. 

—John Fullinwider

Bill Holston, 66, spent the first 30 years of his career in commercial law in Dallas. In the late 1980s, he took on a pro bono case representing an immigrant seeking asylum in the United States. 

“I fell in love with the work,” he said. “As I represented more and more people, I developed a greater and greater passion for the rights of the people I was representing.” Ten years ago, he closed his commercial law practice to become executive director of the Human Rights Initiative of North Texas. 

Holston says he’s inspired by John Lewis, the US congressman and civil rights activist who continued to get into “good trouble” until his death at age 80. As he gets older, Holston thinks more about his legacy. He’s more focused on “eulogy virtues,” citing New York Times columnist David Brooks, who wrote: “The résumé virtues are the skills you bring to the marketplace. The eulogy virtues are the ones that are talked about at your funeral—whether you were kind, brave, honest or faithful.”  

With that change in focus, Holston said, he has a more long-term view. 

“The older you are, the more wired you are toward persistence,” he said. “I’ve been doing this a long time, and I’m going to keep doing this as long as I’m physically and mentally capable.” 

For many activists, their work also brings a sense of purpose and meaning. 

Activism “is a good way to live your life,” Fullinwider said. “What kind of life is it to just enjoy your advantages and buy things and then die? Once you open your eyes to injustices, it’s hard to be happy without doing something about it. Most people have a conscience. When you listen to it, your life will be better, and you have a chance to make life better for others.” 

A Good Start 

Judy Sherry’s weekly calls to Roy Blunt may have made some difference after all. Blunt was one of 10 Republican senators who helped hammer out a bipartisan deal on a narrow set of gun safety measures announced on June 12. However, the deal didn’t include other basic measures, like expanded background checks or limits on assault weapons. 

“It is a good start, but that’s all,” she said.  

Sherry jokes that she sometimes wishes she’d chosen a cause she’ll live long enough to see solved. But she remains convinced that gun violence will ultimately be addressed. 

“We’ve changed cultures before,” she said. “We’ve changed smoking. We’ve changed seatbelts. We’ve changed drinking. We didn’t ban cigarettes or cars or alcohol, but we figured out a better way to deal with it, and we will do that here.” 

John Brandt is still on good terms with his ex-mother-in-law—so good that he gave her an iPad for Christmas last year, along with a promise to provide tech support.  

The learning curve turned out to be a bit steep. At 90, his ex-mother-in-law, a retired government agency director, is still sharp and not new to computers. But using apps presented new challenges. 

“She kept saying, ‘I’m just so stupid, I can’t do this,’” he said. 

Brandt realized that his mother-in-law hadn’t used a smartphone or a tablet before. Skills he’d acquired years ago—swiping and tapping to turn on the device, open, navigate and close apps—were all new to her.

“Those of us who got iPhones 12 or 14 years ago have already learned all the features and the gestures,” he said. “It was like she was learning a new language but with a physical component.” 

After a few long sessions, she became confident with FaceTime, text messaging and Facebook. Now she uses her iPad regularly to stay in touch with family members who live out of town, including a granddaughter in Serbia.  

As Brandt’s experience shows, apps have the potential to enhance an older adult’s quality of life. Apps like Messenger, Zoom and FaceTime provide social connections. Apps for ridesharing (like Uber or Lyft) or grocery delivery services boost independence. Health-related apps allow people to track vital signs, monitor progress, detect problems and possibly save trips to the doctor. 

But many older adults aren’t taking advantage of them.

Apps to Sustain Independence 

Apps offer significant potential for supporting older adults’ independence. Those who don’t drive can use the Lyft or Uber app to schedule rides to and from doctor appointments, concerts and events outside of the community. With banking apps and online payment apps like PayPal or Venmo, they can deposit checks, transfer money and pay bills without a trip to the bank. Apps like Simply Safe or Ring can check who’s at the front door or send alerts for package deliveries. Digital-assistant apps like Alexa or Echo can turn off lights in the house or set reminders to take medications. 

Leticia Valdez, life enrichment manager at Presbyterian Village North, a retirement community in Dallas, has seen how older adults benefit from apps. She estimates more than 80 percent of residents use the community’s Cubigo app to sign up for activities, to check dining room menus and make reservations and to schedule maintenance in their apartments. 

The residents have plenty of help—Valdez leads monthly training classes and provides one-on-one coaching. That experience has shown Valdez how older adults often face a steep learning curve. Just recently, a resident came in for tech help; when she informed him that he needed to download an app, he said, “What’s an app?” 

“It was like I was speaking a foreign language,” she said.  

A lot of [older people] are afraid that if they touch the wrong thing, they will break the phone

—Susan Lewis

Susan Lewis, 79, uses dozens of apps daily for everything from driving directions to games to ordering prescription refills. But many neighbors in her 55+ apartment complex do not use them at all. Some own smartphones but only use them for phone calls. 

Even though she doesn’t consider herself all that tech savvy, Lewis has become the informal tech guru for her community. 

“I’m not afraid of technology,” she said. “A lot of [older people] are afraid that if they touch the wrong thing, they will break the phone. They don’t know about the App Store, or where to look for apps or how to adjust their phone settings.” 

Lewis’ favorite tip: turn to your computer and use Google. When she’s stumped herself, she can almost always find a tutorial video or an article with step-by-step instructions. YouTube offers short videos on how to download apps on an iPhone, iPad or Android device. 

Apps to Support Health 

Ed Sanders knows of at least one person who’s convinced an app saved his life. Sanders, a tech trainer for Microsoft, often volunteers at senior centers and retirement communities, helping older adults with their devices. 

One older man told Sanders he’d had a stroke and, thanks to the Health app on his phone, first responders were able to access his medical information immediately, even though he was unconscious, saving precious minutes. 

Sanders thinks using the Health app is a no-brainer for anyone, particularly those with chronic health conditions, yet relatively few older adults he meets know about it or how to enter their medical information. 

The Health app is one of a rapidly growing number of apps designed to track an individual’s medical and health information that have significant potential to help older adults manage chronic conditions and save trips to the doctor. But experts see two issues: not all of these health apps are reliable, and relatively few older adults are using them.  

App users should be aware that there are wide variations in the functionality, accuracy and safety of medical apps. Because most health apps don’t fit the FDA’s definition of medical devices, most are not subject to regulation. Many were created with little or no oversight from medical experts.

Researchers called on the FDA to rethink its hands-off stance when it comes to regulating apps. 

Calling the digital health marketplace a “wild west,” studies show that developers “seldom involve health professionals or users in the design, development or deployment.” Patients and doctors “know very little about whether apps will work or how they might affect the cost and quality of care.” 

In a 2021 study of 15 symptom checkers (apps where users enter their symptoms and obtain a list of possible diagnoses), most fared no better than an average layperson in diagnosing. Plus, the symptom checkers erred on the side of declaring an emergency, potentially sending users to ERs needlessly. Similarly, a study of apps that purport to “analyze” moles or other skin lesions for the presence of skin cancer showed they were not reliable. 

And while they are fun, those so-called “brain game” apps offer such overstated claims that 96 scientists at Stanford University and other institutions issued a statement saying, “The scientific track record does not support the claims [that] … they actually help older adults boost their mental powers.”

Some medical experts are proposing policies to protect and better inform consumers.  In 2021, an international team of researchers proposed a framework for evaluating digital health devices. While acknowledging the tremendous promise for apps to improve health and well-being, the team also called on the FDA to rethink its hands-off policy and encouraged health care providers to help steer patients toward “the small subset of effective and rigorously evaluated apps.”

For now, patients should beware: they should talk with their doctors before relying on an app, research the app online and read reviews and ratings. 

The Challenges Apps Present

While apps may be unreliable when diagnosing health problems, they do have significant potential for helping older adults manage their health. The Abridge app, for example, records conversations at the doctor’s office, creating a transcript with definitions of medical terms that can be shared with caregivers. Medication apps like Pillboxie remind people to take their pills at specific times daily. SmartBP checks blood pressure with a monitor and smart watch. MyFitnessPal tracks calories and nutrients. 

But according to a University of Michigan study, less than half of people aged 50 to 80 have ever used a health-related app. Only 28 percent of people with diabetes use them to track blood sugar. Further, the study noted that older adults who stand to benefit most from these apps—those in poor health and those with less access to health care—are even less likely to use them. To help boost usage, the researchers encouraged health providers to discuss the use of health apps with their patients.

Tapping and swiping can be difficult for those who have arthritis or poor hand-eye coordination.

Navigating apps on mobile devices involves skills that can be challenging, even for the computer-savvy, according to Ignacio Aranda, technology trainer for the Senior Source in Dallas. 

“I notice that many of the older adults I work with tend to use web browsers instead of apps, even on their mobile devices, because that’s what they know from using a desktop or laptop,” Aranda said. But accessing [a website] via web browser usually means the connection is less secure and there’s less functionality. And some app-based services, like Lyft, aren’t available at all via web browsers. (There are some workarounds, however. A company called GoGoGrandparent lets riders call an Uber or Lyft via a toll-free phone number or website. Some senior centers will call rides for those who can’t access the app themselves.) 

Downloading apps may involve accessing infrequently used passwords. After adding a new app, the user is typically bombarded with requests for permissions (such as location services or syncing with the user’s photo library), which can be daunting or confusing. Mobile devices need frequent updates; without them, apps won’t function properly. 

Navigating mobile devices requires mastering a new “language” of swipes and taps that differ from the tools on laptop or desktop devices. That’s doubly difficult for adults with mild cognitive impairment, and tapping and swiping can be challenging for adults with arthritis or other conditions that affect hand-eye coordination. (Sanders advises older adults to obtain a stylus for easier, more precise tapping and swiping.) 

Bridging the Gap 

Efforts are underway to address some of these challenges. Aranda teaches a curriculum developed by Senior Planet, part of Older Adults Technology Services (OATS) from AARP, a digital literacy program that runs technology training centers in six cities in the United States. Older adults can take online and in-person courses or call the Senior Planet Tech Hotline (920-666-1959) for tech help.   

The pandemic pushed many older adults to hone their tech skills. An AARP study found a sharp increase in older adults purchasing and using technology during the pandemic. 

Valdez noticed that many residents in her community started using apps to order groceries for delivery and Zoom or Facetime to connect with friends and family during the pandemic. Having discovered those apps out of necessity, she said, many still use them for convenience. 

Susan deLarios, 75, a resident of Presbyterian Village North, opens Cubigo multiple times daily to sign up for activities, look up residents’ names, check the dining room menu and schedule meals. She uses MyBSWHealth, a proprietary app for her health care provider, to make appointments, check test results and track medications and other records. She uses Audible to listen to audio books, Lyft to schedule rides, Amazon to order merchandise, Facebook to keep up with friends, and her bank’s app to manage her checking account. If she wants to adjust her hearing aids, there’s an app for that too. Apps have made her iPhone the nerve center of deLarios’ daily life. 

“I don’t know what I’d do without it,” she said. 

When she retired 15 years ago, Tzipporah “Zippy” Sandler was floundering and unsure what was next. Then a tech-savvy friend suggested she start a blog and even offered to build it for her.

“I didn’t even know what a blog was, but I said, ‘Yeah, why not?’” Sandler said. 

Sandler’s blog, Champagne Living, focused on affordable travel and lifestyle and soon expanded to social media. Now, at age 68, she’s a top-ranked social media influencer, with more than 34,000 followers on her Instagram account (“Zipporahs”), YouTube channel, a weekly show livestreamed via Facebook, and her blog, which attracts more than 315,000 unique visitors monthly. 

In search of her next post, she’s done everything from riding a luxury train through the Canadian Rockies to hang gliding off a cliff in the Outer Banks in North Carolina.

“It makes me feel young,” said Sandler. “I’m checking things off my bucket list.” 

Sandler is also making money. Companies pay her to serve as a “brand ambassador,” to try their products or experiences and post about them on social media feeds. The hang-gliding escapade, for example, was sponsored by a convention and visitors bureau. 

Sandler is one of a small but increasingly visible number of older adults who’ve become social media stars, with thousands, even millions, of followers on Instagram, Twitter, Facebook, TikTok, YouTube and other platforms, often in tandem with podcasts, websites and blogs. These “granfluencers” share photos of fashionable looks, or tips and ideas on fitness, food, travel, crafts and other areas. In a media landscape that often ignores people over 60, older social media stars are boosting the presence of older adults, smashing stereotypes, sometimes making money and, often, engaging younger people as well as their peers.

Among the most well-known are George Takei, 84, whose Facebook profile is followed by more than nine million people, many of them too young to recognize Takei as the actor who played Hikaru Sulu on the TV series Star Trek; fashion icon Iris Apfel, 100, who models flamboyant outfits on Instagram for two million plus followers; Helen Elam, 93, whose “Baddiewinkle” Instagram account has 3.3 million followers; and the “Old Gays”—four gay men, in their 60s and 70s, with more than six million followers on TikTok.

Staying Engaged

For many older adults—famous and not—social media offer a way to stay connected to the wider world. 

Social media extended Linda Rodin’s 40-year career as a fashion stylist, beauty industry entrepreneur and model. More than 300,000 people follow her Instagram page, “LindaandWinks,” which features stylized photos of Rodin, 74, often posed with her poodle, Winky, street scenes from New York and pictures of objects that catch her eye.  

“It started out as a photo diary—just a funny record of me and my dog,” she said. But the chic Rodin, who sports silver hair and statement eyeglasses and mostly poses in her own clothes, draws followers of all ages. One 30-something called Rodin “my soulmate in fashion.” Another commented, “Turned 60 recently and inspired by you and Winks. Keep up the good work.” 

“I got a lot of comments from younger women who say, ‘I want to grow up to look like you,’” she said. 

Barbara Weibel, 69, has been able to finance her nomadic lifestyle thanks to social media. Fifteen years ago, she left the corporate world and hit the road, writing about her travels on a blog called Hole in the Donut. Bolstered by years of corporate computer experience, she taught herself to use social media platforms as they emerged. Although she lost some traffic when the pandemic paused her travels, she still has almost 9,000 Facebook followers, 6,000 following her YouTube channel, and thousands of loyal blog subscribers, many who’ve been with her since the beginning. 

Weibel says followers tell her that her blog gave them confidence to travel solo and independently, without packaged tours.  

“I get a lot of emails from single women who say, ‘You made me believe it’s okay to travel solo,’ or ‘You’ve given me hope; you did it at age 54,’” she said. “I’ve encouraged people to travel independently and to not be afraid.”  

Though about half of adults over 65 use Facebook, older people are relatively rare on Instagram and TikTok. 

For Steve Austin, 83, social media brought millions of friends to his apartment, where he lives alone, in Dallas, TX. He couldn’t go out during the pandemic, but with 1.7 million people following his TikTok account, “Old Man Steve,” he wasn’t lonely. Austin creates two to four short videos a day, showing himself dancing or performing silly magic tricks, always wearing his signature hats. Austin started posting on TikTok in 2019 at the urging of his nephew; many of his fans are young people, who send gifts, cards and hats from as far away as Brazil, India and Ireland. 

“They tell me they want me to be their grandpa, or I remind them of their grandpa,” he said. “I think I come across as a regular guy having a good time. I’m told I seem honest and trustworthy.”

It’s no surprise that older people attract younger followers on social media, especially on platforms like TikTok or Instagram. Pew Research reports that about 50 percent of adults over 65 use Facebook, but only 11 percent are on Instagram and only 4 percent on TikTok.

While older adults can make money and have fun on social media, maintaining a large following isn’t easy. New content must be posted regularly. They must understand Google’s ranking system to drive traffic. They must master the platforms they’re on but stay nimble. Today’s hot social media platform may be tomorrow’s has-been. (Remember MySpace?)

Dennis Littley, 68, learned that lesson. A former culinary director and teacher at a Catholic girls’ high school, he started a blog to share his recipes for “restaurant-style” dishes with students and staff. Ask Chef Dennis eventually garnered a following of more than a million people on Google+, a social networking platform launched in 2011. Then, with little warning, Google shut down the platform in 2019. 

“That hurt,” he said. But Littley, who’s always been tech-savvy, pivoted and rebuilt. Now he has 800,000 followers on Facebook and 53,000 on Instagram, and his blog attracts nine million visitors annually. 

“I’ve always gone after whatever new social media was out there and learned how to use it properly,” he said. 

Marketing Boon 

Older adults with large followings on social media created a new avenue for brands looking to grow their customer bases, according to Joe Sinkwitz, CEO of Intellifluence, an influencer marketing network. 

“Peer influence is usually the most powerful driver when reaching specific demographics,” Sinkwitz said. “Getting more older voices is absolutely vital for companies looking to reach that key demographic.” 

Older adults represent a massive market, Sinkwitz added. Women 50 and older handle 27 percent of all consumer spending, according to the US Government Consumer Expenditure Survey. “They are the healthiest, wealthiest and most active generation in history, have over $15 trillion in purchasing power, and control 95 percent of household purchasing decisions and 80 percent of luxury travel purchases,” Forbes reports.

Social media also connects people with similar interests in a way that wasn’t possible before, according to digital media expert Dale Blasingame, assistant professor of practice in the School of Journalism and Mass Communication at Texas State University in San Marcos, TX. Digital media “has fundamentally changed the way we consume media,” he said. “It’s no longer all about ‘the hits.’” 

Just 30 years ago, a few television networks decided what shows viewers watched and a handful of radio stations determined what songs became the Top 10 hits. Today, consumers have unlimited choices. Through social media, consumers can find content related to even the most obscure interests, and older adults with experience or accumulated wisdom in niche areas can get “discovered.” 

Timothy Rowett, 79, quietly collected vintage toys, novelties and puzzles for 50 years; then he started creating short videos demonstrating his toys. Now he’s a You Tube hit, with more than two million followers. 

One woman’s videos on YouTube transformed her town into “the Disneyland of quilting.”

Similarly, Jenny Doan, 64, leveraged her sewing skills to tap into a worldwide market of quilting enthusiasts. Her family launched the Missouri Star Quilt Company, a small retail operation in Hamilton, MO, in 2009. Business was slow at first, so her son suggested she try creating video tutorials on quilting techniques. She did all the talking and demonstrating; he ran the camera and set up the YouTube account. Not only did Doan become a YouTube star with more than 800,000 subscribers, the business flourished, transforming Hamilton from a sleepy farming community into “the Disneyland of quilting.” Quilters come from around the world to shop at Missouri Star Quilt’s 13 retail stores, take quilting classes and, they hope, catch a glimpse of Jenny Doan, the quilting maven.

Even in fashion, a notoriously youth-oriented field, older people on social media have a unique niche, according to the New York Times: “They’ve already seen the trends, chased the goods and graduated into freedom.”

Sandler thinks she appeals to older people because she’s real and relatable. Followers see a woman with gray hair and a few wrinkles. She’s not following the lead of many young social media influencers, who use Instagram’s photo filters to make their skin smoother, lashes longer and lips fuller.  

“I’m just not going to do that,” she said. “Because this is reality. I think my followers are feeling the same way and they want that connection.” 

Likewise, Rodin’s followers seem to find her relatable and inspirational. She’s never had cosmetic surgery. She wears funky glasses, not as a gimmick but because “without them, I’m blind as a bat.” Instead of chasing after new trends, she poses in outfits assembled from her own closet.

But Rodin says Instagram is mostly something she does for herself—a  way to stay creatively engaged. 

“I do this for my own pleasure,” she said, “It keeps me on my toes. It’s a way for me to be artful.”