Hello everyone, I’m Tammara, a proud nontraditional student currently finishing up my BSW. These are my final two semesters, and I’m looking forward to the growth, challenges, and transformation that I know the next nine months will bring. It’s been a long journey getting to this point, and while it wasn’t always easy, I’m deeply grateful for the life experiences that brought me here. I’ve raised two amazing adult children, one of whom is also a Georgia State alum and as I prepare to turn 50 this November, I hope I’m living proof that there’s no age limit on chasing your dreams or showing up for yourself in a new season.

Older adults have always had a special place in my life. My mom will be 73 this fall, and my aunt recently turned 80. They both live independently, and while my aunt is very socially active and deeply involved in her church, my mom tends to be more isolated. She never learned to drive, and while that wasn’t a big deal living  in Brooklyn, here in Georgia, it definitely has limited her independence. Even though she manages her own household, I often find myself stepping in to help, whether it’s coordinating appointments, checking in on her emotionally, or just making sure she stays engaged and supported. It’s not a full-time caregiver role, but it is a constant presence in my life.

Professionally, I’ve also worked with older adults, first during my time with the Department of Veterans Affairs, where I supported aging veterans, and more recently through my work at HUD, where I managed multifamily housing and often interacted with elderly tenants. These roles have given me a deeper understanding of the systems and barriers older adults face, particularly around stable housing and access to care.

What I hope to gain from this class is a more holistic view of aging, one that incorporates not just the physical and cognitive changes, but also the emotional, cultural, and systemic factors that shape the experience of growing older. I want to better understand how to serve this population in a way that’s rooted in dignity and equity. I’m especially curious about how housing, health care access, and social support intersect in the lives of older adults, particularly those from marginalized backgrounds.

As someone who is about to turn 50, the concept of “older adulthood” feels very real and very personal. It’s not something I think of as far off in the future anymore, it’s already unfolding. Aging doesn’t feel like decline to me, it feels like transition. It’s a time to reflect, to reclaim purpose, and to be intentional about the life I want to live. When I picture later life, I see women like my mother and my aunt still vibrant, still sharp, but also quietly dealing with loss, loneliness, and the looming question of who will be there when they really need someone.

For me, I think I’ll start seeing myself as an older adult somewhere around 62. I imagine I’ll still be rocking my bald head, maybe with a few more laugh lines and gray brows. I hope to feel strong and healthy. I’ve already started being more intentional with my health by eating more protein, walking daily, and adding strength training to my routine. With arthritis and high blood pressure in my family history, prevention feels more like a priority than a suggestion. I know aging may bring changes, but my hope is to manage them proactively and with grace.

In terms of lifestyle, I envision myself continuing to do the things that bring me joy now traveling, having deep conversations over good coffee, mentoring younger women, and finding ways to give back to my community. I hope I’ll be one of those older adults who stays connected to people, to purpose, and to joy.

That said, I do have fears. Cognitive decline, especially dementia, is something that really worries me. The idea of forgetting the people I love or not recognizing myself in the mirror is deeply unsettling. I’ve had honest conversations with my mom about what we’d want if we ever reached that stage, and those talks have made me realize how important planning, trust, and community support really are.

Another fear is isolation. Watching people you love age, get sick, or pass away can slowly shrink your social world. I don’t want to lose that sense of connection. I want to remain visible, valued, and part of something bigger than myself, even as I age.

To me, aging isn’t something to dread, it’s something to prepare for and honor. I’m excited to be in this class and to learn from each of you as we explore what it really means to age well, both personally and professionally.