Washington's workforce tends to downplay age to get ahead

Two promising candidates arrive for a job interview. One radiates youth, vigor, optimism, and perhaps naivete. The other is a grayer, seasoned old hand.

That could describe Democratic and Republican presidential hopefuls Barack Obama of Illinois and John McCain of Arizona. Or it could be a pair of Beltway rivals competing for the same position on Capitol Hill, K Street, or at a government agency. In a town transfixed by both comeliness and credentials, Washington's rank and file must also contend with age-related stereotypes.

"I would be lying if I didn't say that there is something that says if you are older, then you are wiser," says Tonnie Wybensinger, 29, and chief of staff to Rep. Tom Feeney, R-Fla. "But if you act serious, people take you seriously."

There is sensitivity about being "too young" or "too old" inside the Beltway, particularly among women. Many of them believe that age can impede job advancement on Capitol Hill and in lobbying, the nonprofit world, and the executive branch. They are, as a result, reluctant to speak freely on the issue. After all, Washington is a tough town, where even your DOB can be used against you.

One woman, a 60-ish communications professional with years of experience in the public and private sectors, feared she could lose potential clients if her elder status became common knowledge. Another woman, a 20-something who works on Capitol Hill, says that a youthful aide with a high-profile job can raise eyebrows. "There have been a few members' wives who've given me interesting looks."

"Whether it makes sense or not, it's bothersome that in this day and age, in 2008, we are having this conversation," says Chris Lisi, 35, a vice president at the Glover Park Group who served as deputy chief of staff and communications director to then-Sen. Mark Dayton, D-Minn. Lisi, who worked at AARP before heading to Glover Park, says that Washington can be a difficult city, particularly for older members of the workforce, because of the intense pace and atmosphere. "It's such a young, dynamic, transitional place."

From 1985 to 2006, the proportion of full- and part-time employees age 65 and older in the national workforce rose 4.6 percent, according to AARP. And that trend is expected to continue as Baby Boomers head into their early and mid-60s and remain in the labor force, an AARP spokesman says.

In Washington, executive agencies in particular are home to many older workers, some of whom stay on despite meeting retirement eligibility. The senior career civil service, valued for its institutional knowledge, is generally older and more experienced in government policy and process than the transient -- and often younger -- cadre of political appointees who arrive with each new administration.

That contrast in age and experience can make for fractious relationships, says Barbara Riggs, the former deputy director of the Secret Service and the first woman to serve in that position at the agency. During an administration change, some folks may resist career people who have "been on the job longer than they've been alive," laughs Riggs, who planned to retire in 2003 but stayed three more years to help the Secret Service move from the Treasury Department to Homeland Security.

Riggs, 56, says she never experienced or witnessed ageism during her tenure at the Secret Service. True, its workforce trends younger, she says, but its older employees are well respected and sought out as mentors. Also, the more specific the skills that employees need to succeed, the less age seems to matter.

"In the late 1990s, and especially after 9/11, the skill sets that Secret Service agents brought to the table were highly sought after," Riggs says. "I got calls all the time from corporations when I was able to retire and still young enough to have a second career."

Because of different rules when Riggs entered federal service, she was eligible to retire after 20 years on the job. She stayed 31 years and retired at age 55. Now that the federal retirement threshold is higher, the workforce is older, which can impact the national labor pool if public servants decide to launch second careers after leaving government, she says.

Where older members of the workforce may feel shunted aside or taken for granted, younger people struggle with being taken seriously, even if they're blessed with sufficient gravitas.

One skittish House aide in her 20s believes she was passed over for a top staff job to make way for an older candidate from the private sector with no Capitol Hill or Washington experience. She declined to give names and now works elsewhere on the Hill.

Marcus Mason started his Washington career in 1993 as a 21-year-old chief of staff to then-freshman Rep. Walter Tucker, D-Calif. Now managing director at the Madison Group, Mason took a lot of grief from older colleagues on the Hill -- at that time virtually everyone -- who scoffed at the notion that someone so green could handle the top job in a lawmaker's office. "I had to be serious, but not take myself too seriously," Mason recalls. "At the end of the day, respect should be earned and not just given on the basis of age."

Mason remembers how his friend Lorraine Miller, then floor assistant to Rep. John Lewis, D-Ga., and now House clerk, teased him when he first arrived on the Hill. "Lorraine called me Maurice for four months," Mason recalls. Finally, Mason pointed out that his first name was Marcus. "She said, 'I know, Maurice,' " says Mason, who copped to growing facial hair so colleagues and others could see his gray. A former football player for Arizona State University, Mason spent nearly a decade on Capitol Hill and still mentors young people, advising them to make sure they are the "most prepared" person in the room. Now 37, Mason still has a baby face, but he doesn't get ruffled over questions about his age. "Where I'm from, I was not supposed to age past 16," says the native of Los Angeles's infamous Compton area.

Not surprisingly, more women than men believe that age and appearance factor into how their colleagues and clients perceive them, and even how they present themselves on the job. "I think it forces women to be more aggressive than they otherwise would be," says a 30-year-old Senate Democratic aide, who admits she attended graduate school in part to appear older and more experienced on her resume. "I have to be that much tougher, and that much more of a bitch, because I look younger."

The aide also says she most likely would not hire someone older than she. Others don't consider looking young a drawback at work, even on the playground that is Congress. "I feel old on the Hill, but hopefully I don't look as old," laughs 37-year-old Patty Roe, chief of staff to Rep. Thelma Drake, R-Va.

Wybensinger -- who became Feeney's chief of staff at age 28 and is a petite 5 feet tall -- says she takes the occasional inappropriate remark about her age and appearance in stride. "Definitely, people comment on how young I look all the time," she says. "I don't mind it in my nonwork life, but in my work life, it's an interesting way to start a meeting. I think the reason I became the chief of staff is because I don't let situations [like] that bother me."

Wybensinger says that her boss is sensitive to her situation, although they've never discussed it directly, and he makes sure that people treat her with respect. "I know that I am the chief of staff for Tom Feeney, so I guess it doesn't really matter whether the CEO of XYZ thinks I should be or not."