Identity in retirement: Beyond the dread of isolation

Does retirement signify a profound sense of emptiness, wrapping up the venerated routine and professional identity and heightening the dread of emotional and social isolation? Does it usher in an “age of ease” (Oliver Goldsmith), or is it a “State of sovereign bliss” (William Wordsworth), or is it invested with tremendous “Restorative power” (Coleridge)? 

Does it produce a sense of liberation and adventure?  Is it a retreat from the noise leading to lasting contentment? Does it manifest the inevitability of change? Do academicians resemble musicians who never retire? 

These nagging questions call for an answer. Louis Armstrong partly answers by pointing out that musicians stop when there is no more music (there is no cerebral engagement, in the case of academics). At a time when the anxieties, complexities, and possibilities of withdrawal from active teaching, transience, and memory overwhelm me,   the first interview at a central university resonates with me.

At that time, universities were the battleground of ardent political, social, and intellectual crosscurrents, and they were held responsible for creating a civilized and liberal society. The citadels of higher learning strove to develop and disperse knowledge outside the existing mode of understanding of knowledge (textbooks). The students were exposed to a truth free from social settings in which it was found. A teacher was perceived as the sole provider of knowledge, and merely imparting information was not considered education; the VC asked a novice aspirant to a lectureship to go to the blackboard and teach a specific topic to the recruitment board. The candidate, though nervous, replied with humility and confidence, “I may not be able to teach you, but I can share what I know, no matter how little.” The board looked slightly amused and pushed up the candidate. “Teaching is not a performative art. A teacher cannot deliver instantly, unlike a singer, musician, or painter. It requires preparation and privacy.”

Years passed. Long. Fulfilling and occasionally creepy, the tenderfoot turned into a veteran. While saying goodbye to the students and colleagues for the last time and with a sense of gnawing desolation, he realised the profound impact of technology on education. This realisation, coupled with the impending retirement, sparked a deeper reflection on the changing nature of education and the role of the teacher in the digital age.

The advent of technology-driven smart classrooms has not just changed how we learn, but it has also transformed the very essence of education. It has made information more accessible, learning more interactive, and teaching more engaging. This transformation, while inspiring, also raises questions about the nature of education in a world flooded with information. 

While technology has undoubtedly enhanced the learning experience, it has also brought about a shift in the role of the teacher. PowerPoint presentations, while informative, often drown out the quizzical voices in the form of quibbling, silence, and echoes that a bustling classroom unfailingly produces. Teaching is articulation, but its contradictory coexistence is silence that turns meaning into something more significant, enduring, and impactful. It has to be heard, and interactive teaching is seen underneath silences, which is the core of the student’s existence and identity. In retirement, the role of technology in education can continue to be significant, providing opportunities for continued learning and engagement. 

The seemingly harmonious one-way flow of information in a structured lecture can sometimes lead to a sense of monomania. However, students mustn’t be discouraged from questioning the dominant ideology. Critical questioning is not just an aspect of education; it’s a powerful tool we must actively embrace. It empowers us to challenge the status quo and seek a deeper understanding. The teaching landscape is often clouded by seemingly emancipatory ideologies, which may not be as liberating or progressive as they seem. Seekers of knowledge must understand that the reverence of a tradition or concept often entails power dynamics, fear, coercion, and politics. Noted author Nasir Abbas rightly observes how any idea could evade human interrogation as the social, political, and cultural dynamics shape it. The students must be encouraged to tune in to ‘Vivaldi sur’, a metaphor for embracing new ideas and perspectives.

‘Vivaldi sur’ refers to the concept of being open to new ideas and perspectives, much like how one would listen to a new piece of music by Vivaldi. In the context of retirement, ‘Vivaldi sur’ encourages us to remain open to new experiences and ideas and to continue learning and growing even in the later stages of life. Just as Vivaldi’s music can evoke a range of emotions and perspectives, retirement can be a time to explore new interests and possibilities and to view life from a different angle.

Teaching generates a sense of self-discovery, and no year has passed in my four-decade career when I have realised that students teach me more than I teach them. It is a tantalising journey of tiny hurts, minor grievances, bickering, trifling rivalries, and frothy triumphs. I must load new apps and learn new programmes to keep pace with transformative technology. I am a better teacher as long as I am in the class and interacting with the students; it is fresh and liberating. It will resonate with me. A terminal point has arrived, and there is an escape from work burnout.       

Upending a four-decade routine instills a feeling of obsoleteness, a sense of deepening loneliness, and the belief that life still holds choices and possibilities. Is retirement a reading paradise? It is a time to do things one always wants to do. Can it denote liberation? Is it a time to explore new interests and possibilities? These life-altering questions arising from retirement in one’s life raise ethical, moral, social, and psychological considerations. Retirement, far from being a period of decline, can be a time of renewal and exploration.

The transition from a full-time structured routine, which includes regular teaching hours and academic responsibilities, to hours of uncertainty in retirement does not require any preparedness, as it resembles autumn leaves falling. This metaphor of ‘autumn leaves falling’ signifies the natural and inevitable change and transition that retirement brings. Just as leaves fall from trees in autumn, retirement is a natural phase in life where one’s professional responsibilities gradually fade away, leaving a sense of change and transition. Beyond labelling the period haunting and nostalgic, retirement heightens loneliness and makes one conscious of how vulnerable one looks to others. Even in the academic world, position defines identity and place in society. Retirement is a modern phenomenon, but in his two plays, King Lear (1606) and The Tempest (1611), Shakespeare deftly and poignantly explores the multilayered consequences of disengagement. Lear divides his kingdom among his daughters, Goneril and Regan, banishing the youngest Cordelia. He relinquishes kingship but is unwilling to part with the perks as he reaches Goneril’s house with 100 knights. She objects to the retinue, but for Lear, it gives a sense of worth and dignity. He is not acceptable without the trappings of the job; the loss of status and identity leaves him completely exasperated. It is a lesson for all those whose position shapes their identity.

Barbara Pym, too, produced a gripping narrative (Quartet in Autumn, 1977) of a time when one feels adrift and anchorless. Grappling with a feeling of life passing by, I take solace from Waiting for Godot, which poignantly portrays waiting and existential alienation that every retiree feels. The terror of seclusion prompted Anny Brontë, the youngest member of the Brontë family, whose poem “Retirement” begins “O, let me be alone a while/ no human is nigh”.

Note from the Editor: We as your ardent followers know that your retirement stint will be more productive and interesting than your on-job phase in life… Idhar doobey udhar niklay, udhar doobey idhar niklay

Shafey Kidwai, a bilingual critic, retired as the Dean, Faculty of Social Sciences, Aligarh Muslim University, recently.