Ageism and Sexism in the Job Market

A year ago, I left my full-time teaching job because I wanted to spend more time at home with my partner. My high school teaching position included a 4- to 5-hour commute each day. Therefore, I had no time during the week to do much of anything else, except take Spanish lessons during my commute. I was so tired from my long work days that I stayed home most weekends to recharge my energy levels and recuperate from the fatigue. For 20 years, I’ve lived with symptoms of Lupus–such as fatigue, headaches, brain fog, painful joints, swollen ligaments, sensitivity to light and sound, and rashes. It was imperative I spend the weekends sleeping and reenergizing so I could tackle the next work week.

After I left my school district in June, I planned to get a teaching position closer to home. However, I was unable to land a teaching position in the summer and into the fall. I was eventually offered a coaching position for $18.50/hour and a substitute teaching position for $200/day which was half of what I made as a teacher. Unfortunately, the positions didn’t include benefits so I paid $850 a month for health care. I decided to retire and collect my social security while I was subbing and coaching so I would have enough money to make ends meet. Although I continued to apply for jobs for which I was fully qualified, I could not get a good-paying job.

I never struggled to get good jobs before, so why now? After pondering my dilemma while rinsing off the day’s noise, I stepped out of the shower to dry off and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I looked closer and reality slapped me hard–sagging jowls, turkey neck, droopy eyelids, and yellow teeth. I look like an old woman. I already walked with a restricted gait from knees and hips beaten down by dozens of years of competitive volleyball, but I could also see my face was showing my age as well. I wanted to age gracefully and not waste money on overpriced cosmetics or procedures that promised I would look younger. But from what I saw in the mirror, nothing about my face seemed graceful in any way.

I am not afraid of being old, but I am bothered at being discredited because of my age or gender. I was diminished in my 20s and 30s while working on my bachelor’s and master’s degrees in theology–dismissed by male students who believed women were not ordained by God to do ministry. I received verbal jabs and unsolicited lectures from fellow students for my career ambitions and ministry abilities. Still, I went on to be a Director of Ministry at churches, camps, and one college. Was I now being dismissed because of my aging looks?

I taught Career and Technical Education classes, so I know first impressions are important at an interview. The way you look, how you shake hands, and what you say within the first minutes of the interview impacts how the interview team sees you throughout the interview. So I reflected on first impressions vs. the inner makings of a person.

What I am before I walk into an interview:

I am a self-made singer/songwriter and pianist who worked decades on my craft, saved my money and published three CDs of original songs. I am a songwriter that writes lyrics to help people experience healing and inspiration. I am a woman who persevered and sold all my furniture when homeless, jobless, faithless, and depressed in order to finish my second CD.

I am a determined, competitive athlete who worked on my volleyball skills for hours after practice so I could make it onto a NCAA D1 volleyball team in So. California. I am a walk-on player who started more games than scholarship players. I am an amazing female athlete that played on two university men’s volleyball club teams.

I am a female pioneer who excelled in my educational pursuits of bachelor’s and master’s degrees in theological studies in order to get a job in a male-dominated industry. I am a talented and competent woman who landed lower paying ministry jobs at smaller churches because I was more creative, talented, energetic, organized, and experienced than my male colleagues.

I am a woman who changed careers in her fifties to become a successful career and technical education teacher and athletic coach. I see a teacher who changed the trajectory of high school students’ lives, who created self-paced, project-based lessons for diverse students, and who built a leadership development program at a school without one.

What they see when I walk into an interview:

They see an aging woman who walks with a limp. They see an older lady trying to cover up her wrinkled turkey neck with a colorful scarf. They see an elderly woman trying to be witty, perhaps because she is not comfortable in her own sagging skin. They notice the older woman takes more time before answering the interview questions and wonder if her mind is not as sharp because of her age. They see someone who requires higher pay because of the numerous years of experience. They see someone who may not stay long because she is close to retirement. These things I may be, but they are not the best of me, the depth of me, or the jest of me.

When we are reduced from what we know of ourselves to what others notice about us in the first two minutes of meeting us, we are unjustly diminished as full members of society and the workforce.