386 Chapter 13 THE ELDERLY
Do You Want to Live
in a Nursing Home?
You have just turned 75—or 85—or 95,
and the dreaded moment has come.You
know you’ve been a “little” forgetful
lately, but it couldn’t be this bad.That’s a
county sheriff’s vehicle that just pulled
up to your house.You know they’re
going to take you to a nursing home.
“Over my dead body!” you shout
to no one, as you begin to frantically
barricade the door. “They’re not com-
ing in here. I’d rather die!”
While one deputy diverts your at-
tention at the front door, another
crawls in a back window. He grabs you
from behind, pins your frail arms be-
hind you while he opens the door with
the other hand. The two deputies drag
you screaming and kicking to their car.
* * *
But wait a minute. It didn’t happen like that at all. Instead,
you were packed up and waiting—with a big grin on your
face.“Finally, I get to go to the home for the elderly,” you say
to yourself, as you open the door to welcome the two offi-
cials who are going to take you to live with your new friends.
“That first version is a little extreme—barricade and all—
but so is the second one,” you might say, adding,“Never in
my life would I want to live in a nursing home!” That reac-
tion is understandable.The isolation, the coldness, the har-
ried staff, the neglect, people calling you “dearie” and talking
to you like you’re a child, the antipsychotic drugs given to
people who have no psychosis, to “calm” anyone who gets
out of line—make nursing homes depressing, feared places.
Do nursing homes have to be like this? Can’t we do
better—a lot better? Could we even turn them into
places so warm and inviting that the second version of
our little story could be true—that you would look for-
ward to living there when you are old?
Some visionaries say that we can transform nursing
homes into warm, inviting places. They started with a
clean piece of paper and asked how we could redesign
nursing homes so they enhance or maintain people’s qual-
ity of life. The model they came up with doesn’t look or
even feel like a nursing home. (And it certainly doesn’t
smell like one.) In Green Houses, as they are called,
elderly people live in a homelike setting (Lagnado 2008).
Instead of a sterile hallway lined with rooms, 10 to 12
residents live in a carpeted ranch-style house. They re-
ceive medical care suited to their personal needs, share
meals at a communal dining table, and, if they want to,
they can cook together in an open kitchen. As shown in
the photo above, they can even play virtual sports on
plasma televisions. This home-like setting fosters a sense
of community among residents and staff.
Taking a different approach, the elderly themselves are
developing a second model, neighborhood support
groups. The goal is to avoid nursing homes altogether,
no matter how good they might be. In some areas, such
as Beacon Hill in Boston, the neighborhood support
group replaces the caring, nearby adult children that
many lack (Gross 2007). In return for annual dues, just a
phone call away are screened carpenters, house clean-
ers—even someone to drop by and visit. In one version
of these neighborhood support groups, members ex-
change services. Those who are still able to fix faucets,
for example, do so. They bank that time, exchanging it for
something they need, such as transportation to the doc-
tor. This concept, simple and promising, lets the elderly
live in their own homes, remaining in the neighborhood
they know so well and in which they feel comfortable.
For Your Consideration
Of the two models presented here, Green Houses and
neighborhood support groups, which would you prefer
if you were elderly? Why? What are the limitations of
each model?
These members of a Wii bowling team illustrate the developing concept of homes for the
elderly: active old people enjoying themselves in home-like settings.
Down-to-Earth Sociology