countries (with notable omissions). This is no coincidence; the social and political conditions under which (predominantly) LGBT researchers feel that there is sufficient interest in the lives of LGBT elders for them to conduct research, even attract funding, are significant to the construction of these important narratives which may shape social, health and housing policy for future generations. Plummer (1995) suggests that stories ‘can be told when they can be heard. […] For stories to flourish there must be social worlds waiting to hear’ (p.120/121). After many decades, the tellers of these stories have found both ‘coaxer’ and audience. Studies such as mine, which
attempt to capture the nuanced intersections of class, gender, ageing and sexual identity, have many decades of invisibility to account for; a
responsibility which sits heavily on the shoulders of those who attempt to represent these marginalised groups and bring their voices to life.
3.1 Who can speak? Defining and refining the scope of the research.
McDermott notes that ‘the spaces for lesbians to speak about their lives are often very limited’ (2004:177). Despite my good intent to create a space where lesbians could speak about their lives, much of the first year of my PhD was consumed by the constant sharpening and refining of my scope as I tried how to decide and justify who should be included and what would they be called. Dunleavy (2003) rightly suggests that this filtering process is
‘psychologically taxing’ (p.52). I had initially planned to interview trans women alongside lesbians and bisexual women. However, a colleague’s
review of my early work encouraged me to question the ‘adding on’ of transgender, noting that while experiences of older age may be similar, the route taken might be very different. The realisation that one thesis could not do justice to these diverse journeys and subsequent decision to focus solely on older lesbians and bisexual women helped to frame the borders and boundaries of my study.
The descriptors of old, older and ageing proved similarly problematic both in terms of language use and measurement; there are many understandings of what is meant by ‘old’. Firstly, I had to decide how to define my target group and determine who should ‘count’ as old/er. The category ‘older people’ is constituted as if it has a pre-existing reality and set of attributes, yet even the chronological age at which one joins the category has been adjusted over time as attitudes change and the longevity of many populations increases. In debates about global ageing, The World Health Organization (2002) uses the United Nations standard age 60 as the benchmark for
‘older’ whilst recognizing the diversity of chronological age experiences across developed and developing countries. In this research I am trying to capture the intersection of social change and historical cohort through the experiences of the older end of the UK’s ‘baby boomer’ generation, being mindful that the experience of living with an LGBT identity may differ sharply for individuals born in the thirties, forties and fifties. Thus I made the
arbitrary decision to interview only women born in or before 1953, making them 60 or over at the time of interview. In fact, two women fall outside of this age category, being born in 1956 and 1955 respectively. They both attended an information session, heard that I planned to include only
testimonies from those aged 60 and above, yet still completed and returned participant information forms indicating their desire to be interviewed. Given their motivation to contribute to this study, I felt it important to allow them to do so. Averett et al. (2014) experienced similar responses from lesbians who fell outside their stipulated age range; they attributed this to their
participants’ unwillingness to fit into categories. I attribute the persistence of my participants, Michelle and Ivy, to their desire to be heard.
In addition to the diversity of numerical categories, ‘older age’ has many descriptors. The term ‘older’ is frequently adopted to describe research participants (Traies, 2012; Westwood, 2013; Averett et al., 2014) whereas Old Lesbians Organizing for Change (OLOC) has adopted ‘old’ as an important political statement:
"Old" has become a term of insult and shame. To be "Old" means to be ignored and scorned, to be made invisible and expendable. We refute the lie that it is shameful to be an "Old" woman. […] We call ourselves OLD with pride. (Raphael, October 2013)
Political and academic debate aside, I am personally steeped in the social convention that regards ‘old’ as pejorative, an insult rather than a descriptor.
In addition to western social mores, I have a personal investment in this debate. While I am chronologically entitled to attend many events for ‘older lesbians’, I have no physical or psychological affiliation with the description
‘old’. Many people feel similarly well into their sixties and seventies, shying away from a label which has so many negative connotations and assumes a homogeneity of experience. In recognition of this and in anticipation of my potential participants’ diversity of physical ages and subjective perceptions of what it means to be ‘old’ I chose to primarily use the term older in
preference to old.
3.2 Situating my ‘self’ in the research: Researcher as a positioned