I’m 82 and still working because my 401(k) ran out. Despite my health conditions, I like teaching young people.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with David Hugo Barrett, 82, who works as a substitute teacher in Maryland. Barrett still works despite two disabilities that impact his mobility, as he wouldn't be able to comfortably pay his bills without the extra income. The following has been edited for length and clarity.

Aging isn't something that can be taken lightly. People say that age is nothing but a number. That's just simply not true.

Anybody who says that has probably not seen their mom or dad age.

I spent my career in the teaching and engineering fields

I started my career as a classroom teacher in Newark, New Jersey, teaching secondary mathematics. Six months into that job, I was recruited by an electric company in Massachusetts as a computer programmer and mathematician, working on the missile guidance system aboard the US nuclear submarine fleet.

Business Insider's "80 over 80" series draws on interviews with the growing group of Americans working past their 80th birthdays. They discussed their careers, retirement planning, living expenses, healthcare, and life lessons. If you are 80 and older and still work, fill out this form to contribute to the series and read more here:

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• Older Americans in their 80s are applying for jobs — and hitting a wall
• They're in their 80s, still working, and living paycheck to paycheck
• What work looks like in your 80s for half a million Americans
• 81 and working to survive

I left after three years and went to work for an aerospace company back in New Jersey. I then had the opportunity to work with a manufacturer as a systems engineer, as well as with a smaller company as the vice president of a small division. At my final company, I served as vice president, and we had contracts with the Department of Defense.

I started substitute teaching, which I did from 2001 to 2005. I became a certified teacher and did that for the next 12 years, retiring in 2018.

After I stopped teaching, I finished and published a book I'd been working on for some time, titled "A Newark Childhood." The book started as a tribute poem to my mother. I took the liberty of editorializing and thinking about the decisions I made, and commenting on some of the social and environmental issues that I was affected by. It became not just a memoir but also a form of self-criticism.

I underfunded my 401(k) because I underestimated how long I'd live

I wish I had waited longer to take advantage of Social Security, because I've lived beyond what I expected. Based on the statistical life expectancy of African American males, I made the calculation that I probably wouldn't make it to 80. Now, I have a smaller monthly payment.

I'm in a situation where working isn't optional. Since November of last year, I've been substitute teaching two or three days a week. The money that I'm getting from substitute teaching is partly replacing my exhausted 401(k).

My wife, who's 74, used to be a professional trainer for companies, but now she also works as a substitute teacher. She made the same mistake that I made regarding Social Security. We both need to work in order to maintain this quality of life.

I'm still reasonably mobile, but I've got two limiting disabilities

I have a condition called lymphedema, which is a malfunctioning of the lymphatic system caused by trauma to my right leg. What happens is that the fluid that's usually drained by the lymphatic system tends to settle in the legs and feet, which causes swelling.

The other one is more serious. It's called peripheral neuropathy, which is a disorder of the nerves in the legs, so I'm not able to feel most of my feet. I have some home therapy that was prescribed for me after I went through physical therapy. I walk four to five times a week, for one hour each time.

I have two sons and six grandchildren, and my wife and I would go to California about every two years, where one of my sons lives with his wife and two children. Now, even getting to the kitchen is more challenging. I fear that my mobility will get worse and prevent me from traveling at all on an airplane.

I'd like to see my two youngest granddaughters finish high school, but that's not likely. If I'm still around, who knows what condition I'll be in, cognitively?

I recently stepped down as chairman of the board of the Howard County Poetry and Literature Society and as chair of the Alpha Foundation to make room for younger people to step in and innovate.

Teaching allows me to stay in touch with young people

I need to have some way of communicating with my grandchildren and learn the vocabulary that they're exposed to.

The financial part of teaching isn't insignificant, and I look forward to getting those checks every two weeks. Equally as important, though, is the opportunity.

When you're a substitute teacher, you don't actually do any teaching because you don't have access to their assignment platforms. My job is to keep order, and I answer questions when I can.

I tell the kids that I'm old enough to be their grandparent, and let them guess my age. That gets their attention. They ask me what year I graduated from high school or college; I want their guesses to be scientific. Eventually, somebody gets it.

Once I'm done, I tell them life stories. I tell them that when I was 13 years old, my mother told me that I was going to be judged by the company of friends I keep. One of the guys I was hanging with was willing to do anything on a dare, including things that would get me in trouble, so I decided to bail on him.

Thirteen years later, when I was a volunteer teacher at a state prison, I heard somebody call my name as I entered. Guess who it was? I tell the students about the choices he made to end up in prison and the choices I made to be standing before them, telling my story.

The last thing I do is write a fictitious name and two dates — one a birth year and the other a death year — on the board. I tell them we have no control over the first part, some control over the middle, and no control over the last part. The dash in the middle represents when you're alive, the choices that you're going to make, and what you're going to do with that dash.

I'm 82 years into my dash, I tell them, but they have a whole number of years before them. So if they ever recognize me in the mall or at Walmart, I ask them to say, "Mr. Barrett, how's your dash going?"

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