Good evening, my spectacular classmates. My name is Malaya. I was born and raised in Atlanta, GA, but currently live closer to Lithonia, GA. I’m a senior in GSU’s Social Work program. I was brought to social work when my therapist suggested I take a social class to see what it’s like; she believed I would be better suited in social work as opposed to the business major I had chosen. She would regularly ask why I chose a business degree when what I wanted to do was basically social work. I laughed all the way until my first social work class, and I instantly fell in love with the work I had the potential to do. One thing I want you all to know about me is I’m indecisive, but social work was the one thing I felt very sound in when making the decision to choose it. When I first decided social work was my path, I initially wanted to work in school social work or anything related to children’s welfare and growth as individuals, but in the last year I realized I feel more at home with the aging community.

My entire life I’ve been able to form strong bonds with people who were 30-50 years my senior and always felt very mature for my age. I always had a seat at the table where the people sitting had lived whole lives before I was even born. In my profile picture, you’ll see my grandparents; they are truly my best friends and also the biggest reason I want to work in either hospice social work or in elder services. Over a year ago, my grandma started to have conversations about her dying one day; she was getting her and my grandfather’s affairs in order. My grandparents are 67 and 68 years old this year, and she wanted us to be prepared and not have to do anything when it came to their end of life. At first, it scared me out of my socks, but as she began to have more conversations about it and showed me the process for all the paperwork. My heart softened; I stopped thinking about it so selfishly, thinking about how much pain I would be in, how much I would miss her, etc. And started looking at it from a social work perspective, understanding that her own mother never had these conversations or plans in place for when she left this world. She wanted the people she loved the most to not be stressed about her leaving her business for them to deal with alongside grieving her loss. This is my experience with older adults on a more personal level; professionally, I have taught older adults how to swim when I was a swim instructor, and in every job I’ve had, I had to serve or interact with older adults. I really want to use this class as a foundation for a career as a hospice social worker, and look forward to taking in every bit of this class.

When reflecting on the concepts of “older adulthood” or “later life” and the meaning it has for me at my current stage of life, I think about that being the stage I’ll reach in due time. It does not scare me or worry me in any way, but I can see how, when people my age imagine these terms, they feel dread or uneasiness. I believe that’s fair considering how ageism has become such a big thing these days.

To answer this question completely honestly, 80 and up is probably around the ballpark I’d start considering myself an older adult. Taking care of your body and mind is super important to living that long, and I plan on doing that until my body isn’t able. When I reach that 80, I’ll probably still get IDed at the liquor store. I’ll definitely look old with wrinkled skin and older lady fashion, and by the Most High’s power, my health will be stable; obviously, at 80 years old it’ll be declining; I just don’t see myself declining so rapidly. With that, I’m going to spend my time still helping my family, cooking, and traveling. Being around loved ones is something I value highly now, so as an older adult I know family time will be super important. Thinking about issues that come with aging, one problem that I’m most afraid of is having someone wipe my butt because I’m unable. My paternal grandfather had a stroke 2 1/2 years ago, and he has limited ability on his left side and has trouble walking, showering, wiping himself, and getting himself ready for bed, etc. One thing my grandfather struggled a lot with after his stroke was wiping himself; he hated that we had to wipe and assist him off the toilet. Now he has a rail he can lift himself off the toilet with, but before that, it looked like all his dignity was gone. My grandma says a lot, “once a man, twice a child,” and after helping with my grandfather’s routines for the last 2 years, it kind of scares me to be in the same predicament. Even though that’s the future for basically all of us, to be cared for by our younger loved ones.