Ageism in the job market is a real issue that affects many individuals over the age of 50, including me!

This form of discrimination can manifest in various ways, including during job search, interviews, promotions, and even layoffs.

1. Job Search: Many older job seekers find it more challenging to get interviews. Some companies, particularly in industries like tech, often prefer younger workers who they perceive to be more up-to-date with the latest technologies and trends.

2. Interviews: Ageism can also be a factor during job interviews. Older candidates may face questions or assumptions about their ability to learn new skills, adapt to new technologies, or work with younger colleagues.

3. Promotions: Ageism can also affect promotions. Some employers may hesitate to promote older workers due to stereotypes that they might retire soon or aren't interested in advancing their careers.

4. Layoffs: Older workers may be targeted during layoffs, under the assumption that they are more expensive to keep on, due to higher salaries or health insurance costs.

5. Stereotypes: There can be assumptions that older workers are less productive, resistant to change, or lacking in technological skills. These stereotypes can significantly impact an older worker's ability to find employment.

To combat ageism, it's essential for job seekers over 50 to maintain and update their skills regularly, demonstrate their willingness to learn and adapt, and emphasize their experience and reliability.

Additionally, legal protections are in place to prevent age discrimination in the workplace, and it may be necessary to take advantage of these laws if one experiences ageism when job seeking.

Ageism can be difficult to prove. What I have begun to do is leave feedback on glass door and many other employer review sites so that job seekers will know that a certain business or organization is biased against persons over 50 (or those of color, or gender bias, or whatever the case may be).

And to potential employers/clients reading this:
50 is the new 30. Give us a chance to prove it.

I haven’t written in a while and for that, I apologize. I hope this post finds you (reader) doing well, or at the worst, stable and surviving too. Many of my scans and labs are happening in the next couple of weeks. My chest is tight and my anxiety will be high until I have the results. I think I will always be this way and I’m ok with that. But it’s emotionally exhausting.

While I’ve been active on multiple social media platforms for work purposes, I am not naturally an open person. My instinct is to retreat whenever there is anything bad or negative happening in my life. I’ll hide in my office or my bedroom until I can work out the issues in my head.

The problem I have is that I can’t work out these issues. Rick’s physical abilities is not in my control. My health is stable, yet uncertain. Jobs that are in my area of expertise no longer offer remote work, or just don’t want to hire me because I acknowledge I have a “disability”. (Ugh. I hate that “voluntary” section of applications. You KNOW it’s not voluntary. If you decline to answer it, then they will assume you have a disability.They take one look at that and my resume goes in the trash.)
I’ve done some great consulting work for a few pharmaceutical companies and two cancer nonprofits. I enjoyed those projects but I miss the stability of a full time salary. I never thought I would be reinventing myself at 49. When I lost my job I lost my identity. I had no idea who I was without that work. The sudden finality of it all was traumatic and is still one of the most traumatic events of my life.

I tried opening a boutique and spent weeks crafting graphic tees and jewelry to sell. I got so much joy decorating that store and making original things. It wouldn’t pay my bills, but its peaceful and it made me happy. I think Rick just wanted to see me smiling and happy again.

Ultimately, we decided to leave the storefront and sell online and at This n That Resale for now. Our experience with an inexperienced landlord have left us with a bad taste in our mouth and reluctant to try again. Should we try again? I have some decisions to make. And I need to get real with myself. I do have physical limits now.

Do I:

1) Reopen a storefront somewhere
2) Continue to build clientele for cancer consulting work
3) Change career fields and work somewhere local doing something NOT cancer related
4) Stop consulting completely, no cancer, no store— just LIVE

Times like these, I wish I had a mom to lean on, to ask advice of. I feel like I have so much creativity and passion to help others left inside of me still- but what now? I’m so impatient for this next phase of my life to start.​

Fellow cancer patients who have had to leave their jobs..you may understand how I’m feeling right now. My brain is the energizer bunny and my body is the jail cell it’s locked in. Side effects from my autoimmune diseases limit a lot of what I can do physically but my brain doesn’t shut off. So, I am feeling quite lost with what to do with my life and how out of my control everything feels- still.

As the trees change colors and begin to lose their leaves, there’s a slight coolness in the air that signals a new season is upon us.  
It’s also a season of change for me and my family.
 
I thought I was used to change- but I was wrong.
 
This summer held a lot of changes for the Browns. Professional and financial changes, loss of limb and loved ones and physically and mentally rebuilding – just about everything.
 
I’m not unique. Every day, people are diagnosed with cancer or life-threatening disease. Every day, someone loses their job or home or relationship.  Every day, someone loses a loved one.
Rather than address these personal issues, I want to talk about what these seasons of changes feel like and how we can rebuild after such life-altering events. 
I’ll use myself as a loose example.
 
After 19 years of full-time advocacy work, my role with the organization I worked for, the past 16 years, came to an end.  Aside from the layers of mixed emotions that came with that reality- I had to deal with loss of financial security, healthcare coverage, and my personal identity. 
 
I had so strongly tied my identity with what I did professionally, that I had no idea who I was as a person anymore.  Who was I- without this job?
 
At this same time, my husband Rick was surviving a leg amputation from a botched knee replacement and multiple chronic infections.  Rick had been a football player in HS and College and over all very active until his knee problems.  Now he no longer had a left leg.  3 years of infections and hospital stays and covid- nearly cost him his life.  He was no longer strong, or independent.
 
Here we both were -individually- at the worst times of our lives.  
Who am I without this job?
Who was he, without his leg?
 
I’ve learned that my big strong husband is still strong- but in very different ways now.
I’ve learned that -Katie without a fulltime gig is kind of scary.
I have crazy creative energy. I am empathic, so I want to help everyone. A colleague recently called me a “serial advocate”.  ((Sigh)). He is right.  
 
The first month- I didn’t get out of bed. (wont go into those details)
The second month- my energy was spent doing everything I could to help the patients who called me directly, organizations who asked me to consult with them and accepting contract work to fill my time. I did some editing, some social media work and some advocacy work in liver diseases. I also cleaned and organized every inch of my home and began to landscape the garden outside. I don’t think I had spent much time out there the entire 4 years we’ve lived here. And family- every minute of it spent with my sweet family.
 
It’s the end of month three and this month is all about grieving the past and planning what I want my future to look like. Those of you in my inner circle have seen me at my worst. You could see that there were bigger and better doors opening for me, and you were right…but when you are hurt, you don’t necessarily see so clearly.
 
At the same time, Rick is dealing with recovery from 3 years of hospital stays and life-threatening infections- working hard at keeping his job throughout this entire ordeal and relearning how to live without a leg.  Have you ever hopped for 500 feet on just one leg?  Yeah, that’s one of the benchmarks he had to complete before ever being approved for a prosthetic.  It’s been physically brutal for him to experience and for us to watch.  Friends disappeared.  I mean 3 years is a long time. 
 
So I could talk for days about what lead up to and what it felt like for us to fall into those pits of physical and emotional despair- but I won’t.  
What I want to talk about is how we started to climb out of that pit and how we began to find ourselves again.  
 
Find your tribe.
You THINK you know who your people are- but you don’t.  Not until something life altering happens to you.  People will disappear.  That coworker you had for a decade- wasn’t really your friend. You’ll never hear from them again. That buddy you hung out with before- you’ll never see again.  
People will surprise the shit out of you, but the good eggs will rise to the top.  Hang onto the ones who ask how you’re doing out of the blue, sends you a card or asks you to lunch.
Recently I had someone send me a message of support that actually made me cry—and I have never met this person in real life!  
If you don’t have any good eggs in your life, go out and find some. Community center activities, support groups, meetups, churches and neighborhood activities are all places to connect with people.
 
Get help.
I always recommend counseling and therapy for those experiencing health trauma or mental health issues, but this is true for any distressful life event.
The right counselor (and lawyer for that matter) can shine a spotlight on things you may not be able to interpret on your own.
Spiritual counseling is a great help for some.
 
Stay true.
You are the same person you were before your life changing event.  Remember her (or him) Honor yourself by celebrating your past accomplishments. While your new accomplishments will look different, they matter just as much. Celebrate them too.  They bring you one step closer to who you want to be.  YOU try to “walk” 500 feet on one leg!  I can’t do that. I think that’s amazeballs.  It’s one step closer to walking on two legs again for Rick.  You will grieve who you used to be, but your new you can be great again.
 
Take out the garbage.
Everything that reminds you of that “old boyfriend” needs to go into the garbage.  I had three garbage bins of things I got rid of.  While my circumstance wasn’t an “old boyfriend”, it was part of an old life that I would never go back to again.  Get rid of it! Out of sight out of mind! 
 
Be open.
Be open to new connections, new experiences, and a new way of living.  Change is the one certainty of life.  Everything changes eventually.  Be open to new opportunities and give yourself the grace to grow into yourself again.  Rick will never have two legs again, but we WILL walk on two legs again.  It’s different, but the same.  
 
We are still on this journey and learning as we go.  
The message I want to convey- 
Don’t let the hurt you feel, control how you grow and thrive.
 
I’d love to hear how you have sustained and persevered through tough times.  Comment below and if you haven’t already, don’t forget to subscribe to this podcast.  My fall/winter series is about to start with guest interviews and hot topics. 
 
 comment below and don't forget to subscribe to the Podcast! 
https://anchor.fm/katiebrown/episodes/Season-of-Change-part-II-e1o7mbr/a-a6skql

It's been 15 years since I lost my dad to small cell lung cancer.
I've missed him every day. 
Unlike many of my family members who have moved on with their lives- my life changed drastically when he died.  My career changed, my mission and calling I found out, was supporting cancer patients.

Because of my job and that calling, I think about my dad each and everyday.  Every patient reminds me of him and our experience.  The year that he lived with and fought lung cancer is always fresh in my mind- as is his absence.

I'm not actively grieving after 15 years.  My grief lives with me comfortably, like an empty recliner.  It just is. It's a sadness over what could have been and all the shared experiences lost.

What has helped me cope over the years is seeing the progress we have made through lung cancer research.  I'm a small part of that- in my dad's memory.  We've a long way to go to create a world with more survivors; a world where no one dies from lung cancer.  So in his memory- we must continue the work.

Cheers daddy.  Look what you started in me.

Jessee Dewey RIP: Sept 6, 2003

My heart is hurting for the people impacted by the shooting in Orlando.

Parents, siblings, children, friends' hearts were crushed because a lunatic opened fire in a nightclub in an act of hate and terrorism and killed 49 people and injured at least 53 more.

My son and I were driving back from his school on Monday afternoon and we listened to news reports on the radio.  
I told him I wouldn't know how I'd go on if he had been in that attack and one of the ones killed.

He said I didn't need to think that way.  He wouldn't have been in a gay bar.  
That's not the point, I told him. People are killed everyday doing everyday things.  This could have happened anywhere, to anyone of us.  You never know what kind of hate drives people.  Growing up in Texas, my family saw A LOT of hate against Vietnamese people after the Vietnam War. We were the target of a lot of that hate and prejudice.  
The sad and scary thing is, there is always someone hating something.  This terrorist hated Americans and targeted people who were LGBT and/or in Pulse nightclub.

Those victims were people just living their lives. A mother, like me, will never see her child again.

We were quiet then.  He was letting the weight and sadness of it all sink in.

I've seen blogs and posts in which some people angrily say NOT to pray for victims or during a tragedy.  Why? They say that praying doesn't change or help the situation.  I'd like to ask what those people are 'doing" to change the situation aside from posting about the ridiculousness of someone else's prayer? 

My prayers are for me.  My faith and my prayers give me strength when I would otherwise feel weak. They bring me comfort and lead me to take action to help in many different ways.  Like sign onto legislation, donated my money to help others and offer my time to anyone that needs me.  

I have said countless prayers for the victims and their families and I will continue to do so.  
God is not the author of evil.  I trust in my faith that people who live in His light will love each other and will bring comfort to those that are hurting so badly in our world- in prayer and in action!
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​#PrayForOrlando

Earlier this week a FB friend of mine posted a graphic about the difference in work ethic between one generation and the next.  Rather than get into the Gen X, Gen Y, Millennial debate about cultural difference and accountability, it made me think about empowerment versus entitlement.  Because whether you are 25, 35, or 55 years old, there are a lot of people out there who live in an entitlement bubble and make life for the rest of us pretty miserable.

Empowerment is very different than entitlement. While entitlement is a selfish emotion that focuses energies from outside in, empowerment is a liberating feeling that radiates energies from inside out. the frightening part is people who don't understand this difference and feel entitled to things that haven't been earned and are experts at excuses for why things go wrong. Here's the kicker, so many "empowered" quotes and images out there are encouraging readers to "always be strong", "don't let anyone change what you believe" "your thoughts are all that matter" are teaching the "entitled mindset" to be arrogant, un-trainable and unaccountable for their actions and choices.

Many of the graphics and "empowerment" quotes float around FB gaining hundreds of likes and shares and because they fall short- they are feeding into those entitlement egos.  

Here is an album of some of my favorite quotes.  

I took the liberty to elaborate on a handful of them that I think fall short.  Enjoy!

• It’s ok to be unapologetic if you are factually right.
• Never apologize for anything- unless you’re flat out wrong.
• Never change for anyone- unless you want to keep relationships.
• Don’t compromise your integrity- but compromise to maintain your character.
• You are Superwoman/Superman! Unless you are standing on the efforts of someone else- then you are just a coward.
• Letting go of thoughts that do not make you strong is an art, unless it’s an exam, test or work critique or deadline, then you’re screwed.
• Always be yourself- unless you are a crappy person- then you need to be better.
• Life becomes easier when you delete negative people from it- unless it’s your boss- then your bills will become very hard to pay without a job.
• The only way to do great work is to love what you do. But if you are terrible at what you love, no one will pay you for doing it.
• Those who mistake confidence for arrogance will be the ones with the most excuses for why things went wrong.
• Those that “do their best” but fail more than half the time need to study/practice more or find something new to do.

I started the morning with the best of intentions. While Kennedy slept in, I decided to walk the beach and have some alone time.

I've been coming to this same beach for 15 years now.  I know it well. It calms my soul and erases all the noise and distractions of everyday life. Ive watched it grow from a tiny blip on the gulf coast to being named "The Best Gulf Coast Village".  I love being here.

My beach is nothing special. It doesnt compare to the Florida shores or most of the beaches on the east or west coast. But its special to me. 

This beach was the first place we visited, by complete accident, 2 months after we lost my dad to lung cancer.  My mom came with us. I had to beg and plead for her to come.  She was mourning.  We were all grieving.  That trip was the last thing any of us wanted...but we had booked a friends time share and there was no backing out.

I'll write about that particular trip in another blog.  But one thing I wanted to highlight  from that trip was that it was the first time I had hunted sea shells as an adult.  My mom and I, eyes full and tears flowing, hunted shells for hours trying to do something to ease the grief that was hanging over us so heavily.

Since that day, I always hunt for shells whenever I go to any beach.  I did it after ny mom died.  I've done it in different countries.  I can do it for hours.  It's peaceful and it relaxes me.  I do it 2-3 times a year....

Today, I walked about 3 miles.  But I was only able to fill 1/4 of my bucket. 

My body has changed since the last time I've done this.  I can't bend and stoop (squats) like I used to. I ache and hurt in places that didn't bother me before.  For the first time since I was diagnosed with NASH, I feel it. 

To date I only take 2 prescription medications a day. 1 is a thyroid medication and the other is insulin. I've told myself I dont need to take anything else...I'm ninja-strong and I will beat this!  Well ok. I still believe that but I can't argue with the pains that have been sneaking up on me the past 6 months.

Being at the beach has taught me a lot in 15 years.  Todays lesson is an easy one. 

I can get just as much joy and relaxation from the wicker chair on this balcony!
And after a couple of ibuprofen kick in, i can try hunting seashells again...and that doesn't make me any less of a ninja- Ha!

Several weeks ago my son received an acceptance letter from the college of his choice.  We were so excited, and then reality set in.  Yes he had gotten "in", but we would have to pay for him to go.
And so began the saga of getting our financials in order, applications for federal and state aid as well as personal loans.

Sigh..  Big ginormous gut-stiring-sigh....

One of the things I decided to do was see a CPA to help with paperwork and get previous tax years in order. I learned that you have to have 2-3 precious tax years to fill out for financial aid, loans, a home refinance, etc..  

The CPA's name was Richard.  He took all my papers and did everything I asked him to do in less than 30 minutes.  In the time it took for a pizza delivery, Richard had sorted out my financial life and tax documents.  He was quiet and friendly.  He had come from Nigeria and he had a slight English accent.  He asked me about my health.  My older brother had recommended Richard, so I deduced that Todd must have told him about my liver disease.

"I'm ok."  I said.  "I feel good.  Sometime in my future I will need a liver transplant."

Richard just shook his head and he kept on typing. Odd reaction. He didn't ask me any questions.  He didn't pry.  Here are your papers, he said.  This is what you need to do next., he explained.

I paid him for his services and he walked with me out of his office.  We walked across the parking lot and halfway to my car and then he stopped. He looked at me with such seriousness and sincerity.  He took a deep breath and took my hand:

"I wish you all of God's blessings.  I was end stage kidney disease for 11 years. I just had a kidney transplant 8 months ago."

He had lived with end stage disease for 11 years!  

"You can do this, he said.  Live well everyday.  EVERYDAY. You can do this."

I had been feeling sorry for myself the past couple of days.  I had let financial stress and work and anxiety rob me of so many days that I will never get back .  Richard's last words to me lifted the cloud that had been hovering over my head.  

In the parking lot of CPA Services, he gave me hope.


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Today she asked me if my parents were still alive.  I told her no.  They had died 12 and almost 9 years ago.  “Oh no.  I’m so sorry for you,” she said with genuine sincerity and tears in her eyes.  Had she known me then she would have been like a mother to me, she declares.

Yeah.  I wish that had been true.  She had known me for 25 years.  For the most part, she ignored me and my children.  She came around during holidays bearing the latest trendy gift or ‘As Seen on TV’products, but she never had time to sit and visit, not even with her son. She never babysat the kids when they were small. She never came to a soccer game or watched her granddaughter dance or cheer- she was too busy shopping or going out with her friends.  Where are all those things she bought and all those friends now?  Gone.  In it's place a mountain of debt and a phone that never rings.

While she ran around town with her co-workers, women my age, she never invited me to go with her to the mall or to lunches.  She never took the time to get to know me or ask me how I was doing.  In 25 years she never offered to help me do anything. She did not reach out to comfort me when I lost my dad, and then suddenly three years later my mom.  She was never there when any of us were sick or in distress. She was not like a mother to me.  She wasn’t even like a mother in law.  She chose not to be my friend.  She chose not to be included in our lives.  She was my husband’s mother.  And now she has Alzheimer’s.

I’m in such a strange situation.  I am caring for someone who never really showed any care for me.  She was never hateful or outright mean to me .  She was just absent, passive aggressive sometimes and selfish almost all the time.  It was easy to just be polite during holidays and smile and be complacent because we rarely saw her, even though she and her husband lived just 12 miles away!  Now I’m feeding her and wiping her mouth clean. I speak to her with a soft kind voice.  I hug her when she cries and calm her by telling her funny stories and I agree with everything she says so that she doesn’t get upset.

My husband, her son, makes her aggravated and nervous.  He isn’t naturally calm or patient.  I am.  I hold her arm and stroke her palm. I sweet talk her into her bed and cover her with blankets.  I decorated a little Christmas tree and have it twinkling by her bed. I do it because she is my husband’s mother and grandmother to my kids.  I care because she is a human being struggling with a disease. 

She never loved me- not really.  Because of that- I don’t know if I ever loved her then either. 

But in this little room in a nursing home in Watauga, Texas, is a vulnerable and frightened woman who reaches for me to hold hands with the past.  She is grasping for anything familiar.

​She may not always know me, but she does love me.  I can see it in her eyes.  And after 25 years i dont know her either, but i know that I love her too.

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