College Kids at Kendal

Last Saturday afternoon Kendal was the site of a sparkling inter-generational confab, as a dozen or so eighteen-and-nineteen-year-olds joined an even larger number of residents, all of them easily half a century older than their young guests, in swapping good thoughts and happy memories. The exchange was a magnificent demonstration of Kendal’s grand fortune in being located so close to Denison University.

Here’s the background to the event. A Philosophy professor at Denison named Audrey – we’ll all go by first names in this entry – offered a freshman course this semester on the philosophy of aging. The major writing assignment asked students to interview senior citizens about their views and philosophies of life. Perhaps half of the students used their grandparents as subjects, but the rest, not having access to grandparents, were linked with Kendal residents. The interviews that followed were based upon a broad outline of questions prepared by the students. Basically they involved asking each senior to talk about his or her life. Last Saturday’s session was a celebration of the success of the project, the course, and the organizing idea that lay behind it.

We began by arranging the seats in the room into a big circle. Audrey then asked us all to introduce ourselves, explaining that the students might use their self-selected class names. Many did precisely that, and in that way the residents came to know such students as Ace, Kimpossible, Tiresias, Touchdown, and Trey. Audrey herself was Wondergirl. By the end of the introductions the residents were all wishing that they could be back in college, with teachers as imaginative as Wondergirl was.

In the ensuing discussion, energized by cookies and punctuated by laughter and applause, residents were encouraged to relate off-beat tales about themselves, and we wound up learning all sorts of interesting facts about one another. In his youth, for example, John commandeered a steamroller as a prank. Marie had once been the oldest student in a nursing Master’s program in the country. Cy interrogated North Korean prisoners. Larry once sang the alto part of the Brahms Requiem while standing next to a “ten-foot” tall singer (we gladly tolerated a bit of hyperbole on this festive occasion). Margaret’s grandmother barely escaped an abduction at the hands of a mounted Apache brave.

It is a well-attested truth that senior citizens enjoy associating with busy and bright young people. (I have to note that I find using these various age-group-specifying terms to be a bit awkward.) We are cheered, inspired and heartened by such encounters. They remind us of our own yesteryears, of course, but they also give us grounds for being optimistic about the future of our country and of humankind, and they reinforce the truth of one of the great lessons of life: that even as many things in the world about us are changing, many of the most important elements of life endure. On this occasion we were also warmed by the many assurances from the students that our participation in the project and the friendships that had emerged from the interviews had been instructive and – at least in some instances – deeply important to the students.

Two final quotes are worth noting.

When asked what important lessons of life the residents might give the students, John offered the following: “Experience is what you get when you don’t get what you want.”

When asked whether she had enjoyed her participation in the project, Larry responded with a question of her own: “Who wouldn’t like talking about yourself for a full hour?”

I agree with both remarks. Our thanks go out to Wondergirl and her terrific students.