Feigned inclusiveness
You should see their faces. Sheer joy. Such delight that someone under the age of 50 (and female, none the less) wants to join in - help, support and be part of what they’ve created. This can only mean one thing! Now all the other young people will follow their leader - we must prepare for their arrival. Give her a microphone! Ask her questions - be interested! Queue up to shake her hand and be sure to tell her how refreshing she is! Write her email address on your forehead!
Do you know what this means? This is validation. We must be impressive. We can teach this young person. We can mould and shape them to become like us. The young people will finally see that we were right all along - we must continue as we have always been. They will come and seek meetings and help us understand twitters. We might even give one of them a position on our committee. Ah! A social media secretary! Now they can make our panels more balanced. We can now tick the box. The box that we created. We will be balanced and inclusive. And, well, we all know that if she doesn’t come back … she’s probably a Tory - like the rest of today’s youth.
And how does this make me feel? Well of course, I’m so thrilled that people of such elder years who have done so much to make the world a better a place want to welcome me. I take furious notes listening to their tales of war and poverty that I couldn’t possibly begin to understand - then I email them.
Or not.
I’m not a Tory. I now know that you don’t really listen to my voice and my ideas. It’s all pretend. The emails never come. You just want me to like you.
Well, I don’t.