I wear a light on my head, and use other ploys that can get folks my age noticed.
When I take my dog Doris out for her first or last walk of the day, full light hasn't yet arrived, or it is slowly disappearing.
We live in a busy Chicago neighborhood. Automobiles, delivery trucks, and massive cargo vans are already zipping back and forth..
I fear for our lives. My dog is 33 pounds give or take. And I am a wee 4'9". I'm currently a spry 84-year-old, but I worry an accident, rather than some misbehaving cell, will end my days.
My newest hedge against an auto's bumper is my knit cap that has a light front and center.
I got the idea when I saw bicyclists with their foreheads ablaze. How clever, I thought, I wonder if that would work for me.
Being lighted when outdoors is one way my peers and I can feel noticed. But there are other behaviors within our purview to help lessen the chance of fading into the background.
And instead of blaming ageism for making us feel invisible, older people can take the initiative to engage.
Becoming adept at technology is another way for us elders to emerge from obscurity.
Sadly, some friends my age refuse to engage on social media. Perhaps they're not willing to admit that technology is tough, so avoidance and disdain is their route.
But if a senior desires more visibility, or craves the attention of others, the foot-lighted stage of Facebook is a good place to start.
Just the other day, my eldest child revealed that if I'm slow to return a text, the first thing they do is turn to Facebook. "I knew you were okay," they said, "because you had already posted five news clippings."
Her happy tone was not only because she had confirmed I was still breathing, but also her pride that her elderly parent was able to perform the necessary copy and paste.
For older people, who eschew crowds because of Covid, but fear their lack of engagement further diminishes their quality of life, Zoom is our Godsend.
Admittedly, it can be a little tricky to get aboard. But there is likely a techy grandchild or savvy neighbor who would be willing to open that door for you.
Some of us have already figured out the steps and are already attending religious services on the site. Others are in the i comfort of their homes and discussing relevant books with people who live far beyond their neighborhoods.
Although Zoom plops participants into perfect squares, we don't have to behave ourselves. For example in the two book clubs I host, members are encouraged to politely jump into conversations.
And because Zoom allows video and voice for all assembled, there's little chance to fade into the background.
While these measures may be sensible and satisfying to adopt, others that I personally employ might be beyond my peers' comfort level. But I still offer them as a possibility if they want to stand out from our old bunch.
I have tattoos on both biceps. One was inked at the age of 60 and the second, 80. The first, a rainbow and hearts, celebrates the creativity of my adult children. And the most recent is a seahorse lauding my finally learning how to swim at that late age.
In my daily rounds, let's say a supermarket or health club, if a young'un exhibits tattoos, I am quick to roll up a sleeve to reveal my art. Inked individual and I are sort of mates, and perhaps I've etched away some of their assumptions about the old.
T-shirts with logos are the majority of my upper body apparel. (I'm wearing Stacy Abrams on my chest as I type this.). Similar to my biceps, the slogan or image often sparks engagement. And that bit of convivial chitchat may dispel their possible images of the elderly that include adjectives like irrelevant or boring.
While my lighted cap is certainly the most obvious of my tricks to be detectable, my other suggestions can work as well. Like the brightness beaming from my forehead, our willingness to take responsibility for visibility may help brighten our path ahead.