A few years ago I went to Chicago to meet the cousins that I had discovered through DNA testing. On one of the days we were together, we spent the day doing big city stuff downtown — and while riding the el on the way back to our hotel, the three of us got into an interesting discussion about age and possible gender discrimination. Being women of a certain age, we had experienced things that sometimes felt unfair — in stores, in the workplace and while looking for new employment. As we puzzled over answers I noticed a woman sitting nearby, very obviously eavesdropping on our conversation with a gracious smile and an understanding look. She was like us, in her sixties and female, and she was African American. She had a lot more knowledge on the subject than we did.