Dont squander the experience of the older generation

We are glad of a excuse for a party. Quite rightly, a centenary, an anniversary or a golden jubilee brings out the instinct to celebrate and to remember the past. In a world we perceive as going ever faster, we need the counter-balance of tradition, ritual and commemoration.

This is not, as sometimes happens, a defence mechanism against change, but a means of adding depth and context to our lives. Sometimes the anniversary is not a cause for celebration, but for sober reflection. The opportunity to remember the courage and tragedy of the D-Day landings 60 years ago was one very important example.

But our society is obsessed by youth. As I write this, the Conservative party is arguing over calls for “bedblockers” – older, experienced politicians – to move aside to make way for ambitious newcomers. Could a concept be more insulting to the generation that shaped the country we now live in?

What does it say about public life when a man of the stature of Kenneth Clarke is regarded as past his sell-by date, not because of his politics – and I speak as a lifelong political opponent – but because he is the upper side of 60?

But even those of us who abhor such casual cruelty need to do our own reality check. Is there is an instinctive prejudice against older workers? Do we associate vigour and imagination solely with the young? And when we look to community development and neighbourhood regeneration, do we lack vision when it comes to involving older residents? I have noticed something of a tendency to lump the “over-50s” together, although I personally doubt how much someone of 55, who reached adolescence in 1963 (as Philip Larkin’s poem reminded us: “Between the end of the Lady Chatterley ban and the Beatles’ first LP”) has in common with a still-sprightly 75-year-old, for whom the anniversary of the D-Day landings would have real resonance.

What does it say about our public life when a man of the stature of Kenneth Clarke is regarded as past his sell-by date simply because he is over 60?

However, what most of us have in common as we grow older is a desire to recall the past, to describe what life used to be like, to describe places as they used to be. It is one reason why we often enjoy the company of at least some people who shared the same past and the same experiences. (As a child of the 1960s and 1970s, I thrill with delight whenever I encounter someone who can chant the whole of the Bonzo Dog Doodah Band classic, The Intro and the Outro – an acquired taste, but an instant indicator of a potential soulmate.)

My local history projects (see www.karenbuck.org.uk) have demonstrated just how imaginative organisations can be in this respect, as they collect information and recollections from older residents. Their mementos and, above all, their spoken word histories, tell us far more than the official works ever could about social change – and not just what it felt like to be bombed in the Blitz or evacuated, but also what the streets looked like, the music, the clothes, the entertainment and the working life. I was particularly pleased to find on Kensington local history project website the first chapters of a fantastic history of the area as revealed through post-war musical trends – from jazz to the calypso, soca and reggae of the Caribbean and much more. With the second world war as the last great landmark in our history, we need to make sure that the memories of those born afterwards, now heading into retirement, are also valued, even if they were not shaped by quite such dramatic events. Local and oral history projects can, of course, also create understanding between communities in our increasingly multi-ethnic country.

So let’s have less talk about “bedblocking” and more celebrations of our past, both shared and personal. And, as my recent experience with school parties has shown me, young people may find more fascination in the past as revealed by our own experience than in the printed page.