By Walter A.H.L. Fields Jr.
When I turned 50, I began to contemplate if “retirement” was a possibility for me. Not from a financial perspective. I was fortunate enough to have had a healthy professional career and pension and retirement funds waiting. For me, the most important consideration was what would I do once I retire? While the idea of vacations with the family and leisure time was appealing, it also seemed a bit underwhelming. From youth, my life has been dedicated to social justice and the uplift of my community, and a retirement that minimized or sidelined that work held no interest for me.
Now that I have reached retirement age, and many of my peers are leaving the workforce, my decision has been to continue working. I have chosen “returnment” over retirement. At this stage of my life my accumulated experience and knowledge have value, and rather than lie on a beach in the Caribbean or Florida, it is important to me to transfer my intellectual capital to the next generation. It is time for me to return all that I have been given. As Black people, we too often bury knowledge in the grave like we do grandma’s recipe for potato salad. Once gone, we lament that we did not preserve it for future generations.
I am committed to departing this world with no knowledge left unshared. How in good conscience can I take all that I have learned during my lifetime and selfishly take it to the grave? How can I leave this earth without investing in the next generation, and helping them navigate a world intent on their demise? Our children might struggle but they need not do so without knowledge and a road map. I cannot retire knowing that I may be in possession of keys that can open the door for a Black child or young adult.
Returnment does not have to look like an active work life. If we plan properly, we can offload our knowledge while enjoying our twilight years. Baby Boomers, Generation X, and Millennials within our community represent the first cohort of Black Americans to experience broader personal autonomy. These individuals have been able to pursue higher education, secure well-compensated blue-collar and white-collar positions, and attain home ownership. Our relative advantage should be an incentive for us to pay it forward, even to the point of sacrificing some retirement leisure for the culture.
For me, “returnment” meant selling my home in New Jersey and relocating to Maryland to assist my alma mater create an education research center in which I can apply my expertise on the Black family and Black fatherhood. It has also meant pursuing a doctorate in applied sociology and social justice to extend my work supporting Black families in the community in a meaningful way. What I conceivably might miss in vacation junkets is made up with the satisfaction of knowing I am investing in the future of my people.
Can you retire and return? Of course. However, the connection to institutions is vitally important in my opinion. We can volunteer as an individual and provide sporadic support to a cause when we deem to have time, but consistent connection is important, particularly, to help spur systemic change. I am suggesting a status beyond that of volunteering, an intentional application of time and labor as a way of post-work life. Returnment does not have to be a burden. I am not suggesting replicating your work routine and the attendant workplace pressures that come with it. No, find the cause or institution and map out how your knowledge can help the beneficiary reach goals and change trajectories.
If you are nearing retirement or have retired, give serious thought to the value you can bring to future generations. The collective intellectual capital of the Black community is an underutilized asset that we can tap as an insurance policy to protect the culture.
The opinions expressed in this commentary are those of the writer and not necessarily those of the AFRO.