Back in June, I celebrated another birthday and turned 66. Which means that I am officially old enough to draw my state pension and get a free bus pass from Essex County Council, lining things up for when I retire in November.
Since I announced my departure from Magic Me, people have asked me if I feel ready to retire. I’m lucky enough to have spent nearly four decades working with intergenerational groups at Magic Me on all kinds of creative adventures. I’ve heard incredible life stories from people aged 9 to 99+ and been immersed, since I was about 28, in reflecting on the meaning and experience of ageing in all its many variables.
But it’s also odd, because I don’t feel old enough to be labelled a ‘pensioner.’ I’m struggling with the age-related labels and assumptions that come with big birthdays – the so-called joke cards about Sell by Dates and Hip-Hip-Hip Operations (and they’re just for 40 year olds!)
66 is just another label, a temporary pension age. For years it was 60 for women. Now friends born two years later than me will need to be 67 to claim their pension and with another government review in sight, no doubt my younger colleagues will be nudging 70. And 66 is already tough for some, particularly those already worn out from manual labour, juggling caring and paid work 24/7, or caught in the system like the WASPI women. Age is not a good way to measure need. I love a 60+ discount at the cinema and cheaper train tickets, but are they fair when I’m still earning more than my younger colleagues?
I know that I’m privileged in multiple ways. I’m healthy and pain-free. I’m white and middle-class. I’m old enough to have been born into the post-war generations who got free school milk and state teachers who valued the arts as much as the academic. In 1977 I could start a free degree course with a maintenance grant to pay my way. And thanks to my older, campaigning Sisters, as a single woman I could even open my own bank account to access the money – before the 1975 Equality Act my father or brother would have had to sign the paperwork.
I’m now looking forward to spending my time differently, a process of what former Archbishop of York, now Lord, John Sentamu called ‘re-tyre-ment’ – a preparation to travel in new ways. But once you notice age inequalities you don’t un-notice them and I’m expecting to be challenging ageism for many birthdays to come.
Written by our Director, Susan Langford – July 2025