en en en en en en en en en es en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en es en en en en en en en en en en ru en en en en en en en fr en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en fr en en en en en nl en en fr en en fr en en en en en en en en en en en en en de en sv en en de en en en en en de en en it en en en en en en en en en en en en
Colette seems distraught. For three days she has been trying to figure out the "off-peak hours" for public transportation, and wonders when she will "least disturb" others by taking a bus.
At the age of 80, Colette has just experienced a home lockdown that was all the more difficult because it was lonely and frightening. It was conveyed to her in many different ways that she was among those most fragile.
She was dreaming of the day when she would regain her freedom and could once again go and see her friends for a coffee, a cup of tea or a game of cards.
But a bit of irritating music crept into her head and has partly ruined the party for her.
First, she heard that she was "too old" to go out again. This was rescinded. But while they ask for certificates to be out during rush hours, she thinks that we should leave the street to the younger people and not "clutter up" the bus for all these top priority people, because they are active, and therefore productive. All this is obviously not wrong.
Be that as it may. I look at Colette. She is hobbling around a bit, with a tender knee she had operated on. So she needs the bus. But she's still in great shape. She reads three books a week, thanks to her revolving bookcase. She plays cards and spoils her grandchildren when she gets to see them.
Until two years ago, she used her gifts as a former teacher to give migrant women free French lessons to help them integrate. With advancing age, she stopped, but continues to do some lessons at the association.
Usually, Colette greets people with a warm smile, the smile of those who know the price of what life gives them. And I often think that this smile is as indispensable to the building I live in as the postman who brings us the mail.
Except that, since this damn reopening from lockdown, Colette is worried. For the first time, no doubt, she feels like she is one too many...
A few months ago, I devoted a column to the "boomers", those among the retirees to whom we owe so much for our associative life and our social ties. We must not let this virus, under the pretext of contamination, lead us to condemn the oldest among them to immobility, and ultimately to exclude them.
The philosopher Michel Foucault clearly demonstrated the mechanisms of relegation that were put in place against certain categories of the population during the great epidemics of the past. It was simpler to lock them up. And to forget about them.
Our society is aging, and that is a good thing, because it means that we are living better and longer. In this context, the first health issue must be respect for people, with a constant concern for the most vulnerable, so that they do not find themselves further marginalized.
It would be terrible if the pandemic were to lead to the isolation of those who are deemed incapable of fighting the virus, those who would be a "burden" because of their weakness, to use Colette's term.
We must confront the virus by integrating, in solidarity, the shortcomings and needs of all. We must learn to live with the risk of the pandemic, but we must learn to do so together - including with the oldest among us.
So, if you see Colette on the subway or the bus, don't give her a dirty look. She has a right to be there.
She's an adult, and she knows exactly what to do. Just like the rest of us.
Isabelle de Gaulmyn is a senior editor at La Croix and a former Vatican correspondent.
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