Life's New Timeline

The path to the American Dream is well trod: Jane and Dick graduate from high school and college. They get married, buy a little house, and (cue the montage music) welcome one, then two cherubs. Jane probably stays home while hubby works his way up the ladder for several decades. And finally, they retire to some serene place, playing golf and canasta into their twilight years.

Nowadays we're scrambling the prescribed, linear routes. Starting a family young feels strangely old-fashioned. The median age for a first marriage has been climbing for decades and is currently about 28 for men and 26 for women; tack on up to four more years in areas such as D.C. or New York State. In 2008, more women over age 35 gave birth than did teenage women—a complete switcheroo from just 1990, when teen moms outnumbered older ones. In the career world, toiling away for years for an executive suite sounds passé; that story has been replaced by the whiz kid who calls himself boss from day one and perhaps millionaire in just a few years. And when it comes to later life, more people are working productively, not lolling about some Sun City retirement community.

Here PT explores three groups that are skewing the sociology of the past century: young tech entrepreneurs, middle-age parents of newborns, and folks who embark on professions in their twilight years. Adaptive as they are to new realities, none are without new challenges, either.

Baby-faced Tech Lords and Ladies

Epitomized by poster boy Mark Zuckerberg and mythologized in movies such as The Social Network, the young start-up king is thought of as a modern-day Horatio Alger who makes his way through sheer genius—not grit—and certainly without the involvement of old fogies. After all, youth is a strategic advantage in the technology arena because the entrepreneurs are often closer in age and behavior to potential customers. In reality, however, the standard Silicon Valley business model has long paired young visionaries with industry veterans, says Bob Sutton,

Stanford University professor and bestselling author of The No Asshole Rule. Think of older counselors such as Eric Schmidt at Google, Mike Markkula at Apple, and Sheryl Sandberg at Facebook.

It's a symbiotic relationship, with the young folks bringing the "juice"—boundless energy, innovative ideas, and baggage-free personal lives. One key benefit of youth is a large thirst for risk-taking. Says Sutton, "As people get older, they tend to become less entrepreneurial as real life responsibilities get in the way." Spouse. Mortgage. Car payment. Kids. College tuition. Contrast a person preoccupied with those obligations with someone like Josh Weinstein, 24, CEO of the social networking site youaretv.com, who doesn't take a salary and lives with his mom. "I don't spend a lot of money. It helps that I don't even drink alcohol," he says.

The older folks—investors, senior management, or a board of advisers—bring the experience, money, access to an elite network, and mentoring. "Success and leadership are not the same thing," says Ron Riggio, director of the Kravitz Leadership Institute at Claremont McKenna College. "You can be successful in spite of your management skills if you simply have the right idea at the right time."

Riggio, who studies the role of charisma and emotional intelligence in business, says one of the keys to leadership is a command of "soft" skills: knowing what makes people tick, having empathy, and being able to motivate underlings. Good leadership also requires emotional maturity, an ability to regulate your emotions in the workplace while (somewhat paradoxically) allowing emotions—rather than logic alone—to guide your decisions. Emotional maturity does not necessarily come with age; over time, power can corrupt, as evidenced by middle-age bosses who behave like babies. But sometimes the stereotype rings true. Says Sutton, "Many of the [young tech lords] have a narrow focus on believing they're smarter than anyone else. To offset that, they sometimes need adult supervision."

For a young leader in the marketplace, half the battle is combating a perception of complete inexperience, something Stephanie Kaplan, the 22-year-old cofounder and CEO of the online magazine hercampus.com, knows firsthand. She often meets and negotiates with media executives who have paid their dues. Before she and her two cofounders (also in their early 20s) go into a meeting, they do their research and prepare a clear agenda for the conversation. "We don't want there to be an awkward silence where they’re thinking, ‘Why are these silly girls wasting our time?’ ” Kaplan says.

On occasion, her zealousness meets with contempt. She remembers a time she was negotiating a contract with a seasoned publishing executive. Kaplan was firm about keeping in a particular term of agreement. The exec snapped that Kaplan didn't know "how this industry works," that she was being "inappropriate." Says Kaplan, "Somehow, I don't think she would have said that if I were her age." Situations like that are all the more reason why young CEOs must "look" like leaders, says Riggio. "It's image management: being tactful. Saying the right things. Looking like you're in charge. Exuding self-confidence and self-efficacy and having an optimistic, can-do attitude."

Faking-it-till-you-make-it never hurt a young businessperson. When he launched his video production company, Sizzle It!, Scott Gerber, now 27 and author of Never Get a Real Job, bought some credibility by paying $300 to an online company that forwards mail to a distinguished address—instead of setting up an expensive brick-and-mortar office. But now, just five years later, Gerber thinks that wouldn't be necessary. "Young people are taken more seriously now,"he says.

Welcome news, considering that even recent grads who aren't tech entrepreneurs increasingly have to create their own jobs—or at least help traditional companies find new ways to make money. Today, innovation in the marketplace is not fueled solely by young people's desire to be CEOs without paying their dues, but also by the need to survive.

In these times of intergenerational workplace flux, it behooves younger and older workers to learn to see each other in a fresh light. Older workers dismayed at how younger ones act entitled and seem unwilling to work their way up may require a psychological paradigm shift along the lines of "If you can't beat 'em, join 'em," says Susan Krauss Whitbourne, professor of psychology at the University of Massachusetts at Amherst. "Instead of nursing feelings of bitterness, older workers should dig down deep and look at who they are. Reaffirming their identities—apart from their age—will allow them to acknowledge their strengths, tempering any thought that the world is coming to an end because the young ones are taking over." As a practical matter, senior employees can boost self-esteem with a leadership role outside the company, such as a board membership.

Conversely, younger workers should look for ways to disprove misconceptions about them and, ahem, respect their elders more. Research has shown that, contrary to popular belief, older workers are better employees, with higher rates of productivity and less absenteeism. Says Whitbourne, "Younger workers should remove stereotype blinders and turn to older employees for advice—maybe not on the latest social media, but on many other fronts. In any office, we should strive to bring out the best in each other."

Older New Moms and Dads

Research shows that older new moms and dads are a fast-growing population. According to a Centers for Disease Control survey, the U.S. birth rate for women over age 40 rose steadily between 2007 and 2009—while the birth rate for women age 20 to 24 (so-called peak childbearing years) dropped to 9 percent. Women are delaying motherhood to build careers or to enjoy life as part of a couple, or because they haven't wanted to get married—and fertility treatments (while expensive and no guarantee) play a major role in allowing such women to get pregnant later. Parents who do wait may experience a host of benefits, including greater financial security, more maturity and confidence, and exceptional gratitude for their children. Says Elizabeth Gregory, head of women's studies at the University of Houston and the author of Ready: Why Women Are Embracing the New Later Motherhood, "Many of these moms have the feeling that they got out there and really did what they wanted to do—climbed the ladder, made enough money, or waited for the right relationship to truly come along—before making the decision to start a family."

But herein lies a drawback: If you're advanced in your career, you have more responsibilities and, perhaps, more people depending on you for their own livelihoods. Says Volkan Topalli, who recently became a first-time dad at age 43 and is an associate professor of criminology at Georgia State University, "My position makes it harder to cut out at 5 p.m. on the dot to meet the babysitter."

Although there is little research on the subject, some older parents do feel stigmatized as they go about daily life. They experience sideways glances and unsolicited input implying that it's not fair for the child to have an older parent—because some will assume that an older mom won't be able to have another, and that violates the widespread belief that every child needs a sibling. And sometimes, others' comments or their own internal fears lead older moms and dads to a dark doubt: "Will I be around to see my grandchildren?"

"People are living longer and are in better health. For older parents, concerns about dying are far less in the forefront than they were when life expectancies were smaller," says social psychologist Susan Newman, author of The Case for the Only Child: Your Essential Guide. "Thoughtful parents may worry that their child is worrying that they won't be around. But these occasional thoughts all pale in comparison to the peak experience of having a child." And having just one child should not be a strike against older parents, in Newman's mind: Research shows that "onlies" turn out just fine.

Some might silently (or vocally) judge older, single women who become mothers at a high personal cost as selfish. But Newman points out that their very dedication to becoming mothers indicates how committed they will be in the role. "Why would you criticize someone for being so sure of what she wants?" she asks.

For those who make the choice to have children later in life, the positives far outweigh the negatives—give or take a few awkward social situations. Diane Broadnax, age 51 and a clinical researcher who lives in Maryland, conceived her second child naturally (after enduring six miscarriages) at age 46, giving her 13-year-old daughter a little sister. She jokes about how her email inbox fills up with messages from both the AARP and the baby-focused website Zero to Three, and how a well-meaning Krispy Kreme drive-through attendant called her "Grandma." Says Broadnax, "After the breath came back in my lungs, I said through a clenched smile, 'Oh, no, she's my daughter.'" The attendant stuttered and quickly attempted to recover by offering that Broadnax was just like Sarah, a revered older parent in the Bible. "I thought I could have at least gotten a free doughnut for that one," she says, noting that being 50-something with a 5-year-old keeps her sense of humor sharp.

Encore Careerists

In 2007, Bob Shirilla, 57 at the time, was offered a buyout. He'd spent more than 30 years as a project manager for a Fortune 500 company and enjoyed his career, but now he had a chance to do something else. Shirilla and his wife decided to launch an e-commerce business selling gift products and embroidered bags. Now Shirilla, a Cleveland-area resident, works three to five hours a day—sometimes beginning at 4 a.m.—on Internet marketing and technical support for the business. In the afternoon, he might cook, work out at the YMCA, or visit his daughter and grandkids. "It's a great life,"says Shirilla. "Much better than if I'd actually retired with the buyout money."

For millions of Americans, kicking back in retirement is neither a fantasy of how they want to spend their later years nor a reality they can afford. Many saw their savings halved during the recent recession. At the same time, Americans are living longer. Life expectancy in the United States is now 78, 10 years higher than it was in 1950. "If you have an extra five or 15 years to live, you can do something that's meaningful. People don't need endless leisure for 20 years!" says Marci Alboher, vice president of Civic Ventures, a think tank that researches and promotes purposeful careers in the second half of life. Work used to be largely thought of as a means to an end. Now that we increasingly attempt to get a sense of identity and satisfaction from our jobs, hopes of being more viable and engaged than ever beat dreams of fleeing the workforce completely.

For many people who work later in life, the psychological concept of generativity comes into play—thinking about the next generation and what type of legacy to leave it. For earlier generations, the desire for something of theirs to continue on after death manifested, perhaps, through volunteering, artistic expression, or taking greater interest in grandchildren. Says Alboher, "With the recession, the need and interest in giving back still exists—but people need to earn a living, too." The founder of Civic Ventures, Marc Freedman, even coined a term for the new later-life employment in his 2007 book, Encore Careers; such careers are defined by a combination of personal meaning, continued income, and social impact.

A desire to make a difference in his community inspired Martin Levin to attend law school at night—at the age of 61. Then a successful publishing executive, he would take off his jacket and vest and rush out of his Park Avenue office at exactly 5:30 p.m. to catch the Lexington Avenue express downtown to New York Law School, carting cut-out sections of his law books to do his reading en route. After what he describes as the best four years of his life, he found himself looking for employment as a 65-year-old lawyer with no experience.

"When I met with Marvin Cowan, of the firm Cowan, Liebowitz & Latman," Levin says, "he said, 'Take my advice, go home and play with your grandchildren.' When I persisted that this was my boyhood dream, he arranged for interviews with other partners. Over a period of about a week, I met with 17 partners, and they finally decided to take a chance on me. Now, these men are my best friends."

Levin's still practicing at age 92 and just published a book, All I Know About Management I Learned From My Dog. He believes the daily intellectual rigor keeps him mentally astute. Five years ago, keeping busy with work also helped him cope with the death of his wife of 67 years. But the best thing about being gainfully employed at his age? "How people look at you," he says. "I'm getting respect from my kids, my neighbors, my grandkids. They look at me differently than they would look at an old person. Instead, what they see is still a valuable person who is contributing to society."

Ageism makes the workforce less willing to hire older people at the same time that it discourages older individuals from getting out there and cultivating passions that could, in turn, help others. "Everyone, no matter what age they are, needs to feel confidence and have a sense of self worth," says Marc Agronin, a geriatric psychiatrist based in Miami and author of How We Age. "It's a matter of diversifying over time: What are my skills that are still viable? What can I do that will bring me gratification?"

Aging is not a steady neurological dive, says Agronin."We assume that because memory speed and efficiency decline, all of cognition declines, but, for example, studies have shown that seniors actually have better retention of what they read and are less emotionally reactive when viewing negative images." Older individuals tend to have greater wisdom, the capacity for deep, intimate relationships, and an incredible potential for artistic creativity. (Case in point: Dancer Martha Graham choreographed 10 new ballets from age 75 until her death at 96.) Also, they simply have a more positive outlook on life. Says Agronin, whose youngest patients are in their 70s, "There's a sense of happiness and contentment when you're older that you just don't have when you're younger."

A desire to live for today—not tomorrow—is behind many midlife shifts. When some stubborn baby weight inspired Ofelia de La Valette to step into a dance class at age 34, she wasn't thinking about how she was getting started at the age most professional dancers hang up their leotards. "Instead, I had the mentality that if I kept this up, by the time I was 50 I would be a phenomenal dancer!" she says.

De La Valette had always wanted to be a dancer, but as the daughter of struggling Cuban immigrants, expensive lessons weren't possible during her childhood. She then married young and built a successful career as an insurance agent. In her late 30s, determined to make up the 20 years she'd lost, de La Valette threw herself into training during the evenings and weekends, taking five, and then a dozen, dance classes per week.

During her 40s, she shuttered her insurance agency and began teaching professionally, and at 47, opened her own studio, Dance 101, which is geared toward adults—now the largest of its kind in the country. Dance 101's come-one-come-all philosophy and broad-ranging clientele reflect a belief central to her own dramatic midlife switch. "I wanted to teach people that it's never too late to discover a new passion in your life," she says. "The age you start is just that: a starting point."