My grandson showed me a meme the other day about “OK Boomer.” He was laughing, trying to explain why it was funny, and I’ll admit, I didn’t quite get it at first.

But it got me thinking about the generational divide that seems wider than ever. Somewhere along the way, people my age got a reputation for being out of touch, dismissive, and frankly, kind of annoying to younger folks.

Here’s the thing, though: it doesn’t have to be that way.

I’ve got three adult children and five grandchildren ranging from four to fourteen. I volunteer at the literacy center where many of my students are in their twenties and thirties. I’ve learned to navigate these relationships without coming across as that insufferable older person who thinks they know everything.

It’s not complicated. It doesn’t require understanding every social media trend or pretending to be something you’re not. It just takes some simple habits that show respect, curiosity, and a willingness to meet people where they are.

1) Asking questions instead of giving unsolicited advice

This might be the biggest one, and I’ll be honest, it took me years to figure out.

During my thirty-five years in middle management, I got used to being the person with answers. People came to me with problems, and I solved them. That was literally my job. So when I retired and my kids would mention challenges in their lives, my instinct was to immediately jump in with solutions.

“Here’s what you should do.”

“Let me tell you how I handled that.”

“The problem is you’re not thinking about it the right way.”

Guess how well that went over? Not great.

My daughter Sarah finally told me flat out: “Dad, I’m not asking you to fix it. I’m just telling you about my day.” That stung a bit, but she was right.

Now I try to start with questions instead. “How are you thinking about handling that?” or “What options are you considering?” Sometimes people just want to be heard. And when they do want advice, they’ll ask for it directly.

The younger people in my life respond so much better to curiosity than to certainty. They’ve got their own ways of figuring things out, and most of the time, those ways are just as valid as mine were.

2) Admitting when you don’t know something

Last month at the literacy center, one of my younger colleagues was talking about some app I’d never heard of. The old me would’ve nodded along, pretending I knew what she meant to avoid looking out of touch.

Instead, I just said, “I have no idea what that is. Can you explain it?”

You know what happened? She lit up. She was happy to explain it, and I learned something new. No judgment from her side, no defensive posturing from mine.

There’s this weird tendency among people my age to act like admitting ignorance is somehow shameful. Like we’re supposed to know everything because we’ve been around longer. But that’s ridiculous. The world changes. Technology evolves. New things emerge constantly.

Saying “I don’t know” or “I’ve never heard of that” isn’t weakness. It’s honesty. And younger people appreciate it because it means they don’t have to watch you fumble around trying to pretend you understand something you clearly don’t.

3) Listening to understand, not to respond

My son Michael went through a difficult divorce a few years ago, and I had to learn to bite my tongue more than once during that period.

He’d tell me about decisions he was making, and I’d have all these thoughts about what he should do differently. But I learned to just listen. Really listen. Not planning my response while he was talking, not waiting for my turn to speak, just trying to understand his perspective.

It’s harder than it sounds, especially when you care about someone and want to protect them from mistakes. But here’s what I discovered: people figure things out better when they can talk through their thoughts with someone who’s truly listening.

The younger folks I know, whether it’s my kids, my grandchildren as they get older, or the young adults I interact with through volunteering, they can tell the difference between someone who’s listening and someone who’s just waiting to talk. They open up more when they feel genuinely heard.

And honestly? I learn more this way too. Their perspectives challenge my assumptions and remind me that my way isn’t the only way.

4) Accepting that your experience isn’t universal

“Back in my day, we just walked into a place and asked for a job, and they’d hire you on the spot.”

I’ve heard this from people my age countless times. I’ve probably said versions of it myself. And while it might have been true for some of us, it wasn’t everyone’s experience even then, and it certainly isn’t how things work now.

The economy is different. The job market is different. The cost of living relative to wages is different. Housing prices are different. The whole landscape has changed.

When my youngest daughter Emma was struggling to find work after college, I caught myself starting to say something about just needing to try harder. Then I stopped. Because what did I actually know about her situation? I got my insurance job in a different era, and holding her experience up against mine wasn’t fair or helpful.

Now when I hear myself thinking “in my day,” I try to pause and remember: my experience is mine. It’s not a template everyone else should follow. The challenges younger people face are real, even if they’re different from the ones I faced.

5) Being curious about their interests without judgment

One of my grandchildren is really into video games. Not just playing them, but understanding how they’re designed, following the industry, watching other people play them online.

A few years ago, I would’ve dismissed that as a waste of time. “Go outside. Do something real.” That kind of thing.

But I decided to actually ask him about it. What makes a game good? What does he learn from watching other players? Why does he find it interesting?

Turns out, there’s a whole world there I knew nothing about. Strategy, problem-solving, creative thinking, even social connection with other players around the world. It’s not what I did as a kid, but that doesn’t make it invalid.

The same goes for music I don’t understand, career paths that didn’t exist when I was young, or hobbies that seem strange to me. Instead of dismissing them, I try to get curious. “Tell me more about that” opens more doors than “that’s ridiculous.”

Younger people can sense when you’re judging them versus when you’re genuinely interested. The latter makes you someone they want to spend time with.

6) Sharing stories without starting with “back in my day”

I’ve got forty-plus years of life experience that younger folks don’t have. That’s valuable. But the way I share it matters.

There’s a difference between saying “Back in my day, we respected our elders” and saying “You know, I remember learning something important about respect from my father when I was working at the factory.”

One is preachy and judgmental. The other is just sharing an experience that might be interesting or useful.

I learned this from watching how my grandchildren respond to different types of stories. When I talk about things I’ve experienced without framing it as “this is how things should be,” they lean in. They ask questions. They want to hear more.

But if I start with any version of “you kids today don’t know how good you have it,” their eyes glaze over immediately. And can you blame them? Nobody likes being lectured.

Your stories have value. Your experiences matter. Just share them as experiences, not as evidence of moral superiority.

7) Apologizing when you mess up

I used to think that as the elder in any situation, apologizing to someone younger somehow undermined my authority or wisdom. Like admitting I was wrong would make them respect me less.

Complete nonsense, as it turns out.

A few years back, I said something dismissive to my daughter about her parenting choices. It was out of line, and I knew it as soon as the words left my mouth. The old me might have just let it pass, hoping she’d forget about it.

Instead, I called her that evening and apologized. “I was wrong to say that. You’re doing a great job, and I’m sorry.”

She was quiet for a moment, then said, “Thanks, Dad. That means a lot.”

Our relationship got stronger after that, not weaker. Younger people aren’t looking for perfection from older folks. They’re looking for authenticity and accountability.

When you mess up, whether it’s saying something insensitive, making a wrong assumption, or just being cranky when you shouldn’t have been, own it. A simple, genuine apology goes a long way.

8) Staying open to learning from them

My teenage grandchildren have taught me more about technology than I ever would’ve figured out on my own. One of them helped me understand how to use certain features on my phone that I didn’t even know existed.

But it goes beyond technology. Younger people have taught me about perspectives I’d never considered, ways of thinking about problems that wouldn’t have occurred to me, and approaches to life that challenge my assumptions.

My students at the literacy center, many of them younger than my own children, have taught me about resilience, about navigating systems I’ve never had to deal with, about balancing multiple jobs and family responsibilities in ways I never had to.

There’s this idea that learning flows in one direction, from older to younger. But that’s not how it works. Everyone has something to teach if you’re willing to learn.

When someone younger shows you something or explains something, resist the urge to prove you already know it or to one-up them with your own knowledge. Just learn from them. Thank them. Let them be the expert for a moment.

It’s not about pretending they know more than you do about everything. It’s about recognizing that they know things you don’t, and that’s valuable.

9) Not complaining about “kids these days”

Every generation thinks the next one is going to ruin everything. It’s been that way forever.

When I was young, older people complained about my generation. Now people my age complain about millennials and Gen Z. And you know what? It’s exhausting and it’s not even true.

Are younger people different from us? Sure. But different doesn’t mean worse. They’re dealing with challenges we never faced, adapting to changes we can barely comprehend, and doing it while people my age constantly criticize them for not doing things the way we did.

I made a conscious decision a few years back to stop participating in “kids these days” conversations. When someone at my poker game starts complaining about young people being entitled or lazy or whatever, I either change the subject or offer a different perspective.

Because here’s what I’ve seen: younger people are working hard, often multiple jobs. They’re creative and entrepreneurial. They care deeply about issues like climate change and social justice. They’re just approaching things differently than we did.

Complaining about younger generations is an easy way to alienate them. Not complaining is an easy way to keep the door open.

10) Using technology without making a production of it

Look, I’m not suggesting you need to be on every social media platform or understand every app. But when you do use technology, try not to make a big dramatic show of how hard it is for you.

“Oh, I’m just a dinosaur with this stuff.”

“I’ll never understand these computers.”

“Technology and I don’t get along.”

I used to say things like this, thinking it was endearing or funny. But what it actually communicated was: I’ve decided not to learn this, and I’m proud of my ignorance.

That’s not a great look.

You don’t have to be an expert. But making an effort, asking for help when you need it without the self-deprecating comedy routine, and just doing your best to adapt shows respect for the world younger people are living in.

My grandchildren used to get frustrated teaching me things because I’d joke about being too old to learn. Now I just focus on learning without the commentary, and they’re much more patient with me. Turns out, they want to help. They just don’t want to hear about how hopeless you are first.

Conclusion

None of these habits require you to be someone you’re not or abandon the values and experiences that shaped you.

They just require a little humility, a little curiosity, and a genuine interest in connecting with people who happen to be younger than you.

The generational divide isn’t inevitable. It’s a choice. You can choose to be the older person who younger people avoid at family gatherings, or you can be the one they actually want to talk to.

I know which one I’d rather be. And honestly, my life is richer for it. My relationships with my kids and grandchildren are deeper. My friendships with younger people add perspectives and energy I wouldn’t have otherwise. The world feels more interesting, not more threatening.

So which kind of older person are you going to be?