The Day I Became an Older Person

I’ll never forget the day I became an older person. I remember the exact moment. May 5, 1970 on a Tuesday morning. One of those crisp Spring days when the trees grow buds and the grass is fresh.

Tuesday after the shootings at Kent State University.

I was the youngest faculty member in my department at Hamline University, and I strode across the campus to the classroom building for my first lecture of the day. A student approached me. She toted what looked to be several black bandanas in her hand and wore one on her arm.

“Professor,” she said. “Will you wear one of these black arm bands in solidarity with our protest against Kent State?”

“Of course,” I replied.

She wrapped the band around my arm, and gave me one of those sweet, superior smiles so common among twenty-year-olds.

“We are so grateful for the support of you older people.”

“Ouch!”