Every American must be guaranteed dignity and independence in

“Every American must be guaranteed dignity and independence in their retirement.” Thus spoke Jan Schakowsky, a defender of social justice and a voice for those who have labored long and quietly in the service of their country. Her words rise beyond politics — they are a moral proclamation, an echo of the ancient belief that a society’s worth is measured not by the wealth of its strongest, but by the care it offers to its elders, the guardians of memory and wisdom. For in those few words dwell two sacred ideals — dignity and independence — the twin pillars upon which the final chapters of a life must rest.

To understand the full meaning of her words, we must first reflect on the long journey of those who reach the evening of their days. For the worker who has spent decades at the loom, in the classroom, or upon the fields, retirement is not an escape from duty — it is the fulfillment of a covenant. It is society’s promise to honor their years of service with peace and security. Yet Schakowsky’s statement reminds us that this promise is not guaranteed by fortune alone, but must be protected by justice, by the deliberate will of a people who refuse to cast aside those who once built their foundations. Her call for dignity is not the demand for luxury — it is the insistence that every human being, in their final years, deserves respect, safety, and the freedom to live without fear or dependence.

In ancient times, this truth was well known. Among the Greeks, it was said that a city’s greatness could be judged by how it treated its old and its poor. Solon of Athens, the wise lawgiver, decreed protections for the aged, ensuring that they would not suffer in their weakness after having contributed in their strength. And in Rome, the elder was honored as a living library of the past, to be cared for, not discarded. Yet as the centuries have turned, many nations have drifted from that sacred balance — measuring success in gold rather than gratitude. Schakowsky’s words, then, are both a reminder and a rebuke: that dignity must not be the privilege of the few, but the birthright of all.

Her invocation of independence carries a deeper resonance still. For independence is not merely the absence of need, but the presence of freedom — the ability to live by one’s own choices, to walk in one’s own rhythm, even in old age. A person stripped of independence is not only deprived of comfort, but of the very essence of humanity: autonomy, the right to shape one’s life. In calling for independence in retirement, Schakowsky champions the idea that the aged must not be reduced to mere recipients of charity, but upheld as citizens with the same freedom of mind and movement that defined their youth. The truest measure of a civilization is not how it empowers the young, but how it allows its elders to remain free until the end.

Consider the legacy of Frances Perkins, the first woman to serve in a U.S. presidential cabinet and the architect of Social Security. When the Great Depression left millions destitute, it was she who fought for a system that would guarantee a measure of security in old age. Her vision — like Schakowsky’s — was not born of politics, but of compassion. She understood that dignity in retirement was not a gift, but a right earned by a lifetime of contribution. Her reforms lifted generations from despair, and her spirit still lives in every promise made to the elderly that they shall not be forgotten.

Schakowsky’s words, spoken in our modern age, thus continue that ancient and noble lineage — the belief that economic justice is