I cared for dying gay men during the AIDS crisis. Now, younger queers treat me like I'm invisible. - Queerty

"I went to my Pride planning committee meeting and had a really awful experience with a younger man who disagreed with me about something. The man was probably in his late 20s or early 30s. As we were talking, he rolling his eyes and butting in to call me "out of touch" and "silly" in front of the entire room. I tried to defend my points, but he kept talking over me like nothing I had to say mattered. The whole thing felt incredibly dismissive, made even more painful by the fact that nobody else stepped in or stood up for me."

"It felt like they all agreed with him. I was honestly upset for a day or two afterwards. The more I thought about it, the more it bothered me. I still can't shake the feeling that he saw me as some old relic with gray hair and outdated ideas instead of an equal and valuable member of the committee."

"This young man has no idea that I spent much of the 1980s helping take care of dying young much like him when much of the world ignored them. I sat beside hospital beds, brought groceries to friends in need, marched in the streets, went to funerals, and watched an entire generation-my generation-disappear. Back then, I showed up because people needed help, and because that's what being a queer community meant."

"It was unsettling to feel dismissed by someone benefiting from freedoms people my age fought so hard for. Am I wrong for still feeling hurt by this? And should I have said something in the moment? Still Here, Still Queer Hi Still Here, Still Queer, First off, I want to thank you. The lesbians who showed up during the AIDS crisis carried this community through some incredibly dark"

A 75-year-old lesbian describes being publicly mocked and talked over during a Pride planning committee meeting by a younger man. He rolled his eyes, interrupted her, and called her “out of touch” and “silly” in front of everyone. She tried to defend her points, but he continued dismissing her while no one else intervened. She feels the incident reflected ageism and invalidation, as if she were treated as outdated rather than an equal. She connects the pain to her past work during the AIDS crisis, when she cared for dying people and supported friends through funerals, marches, and daily needs. She asks whether she is wrong to still feel hurt and whether she should have spoken up in the moment.

Read at Queerty