Staying Connected in Later Years

"With a Little Help from Our Friends: Creating Community as We Grow Older," Vanderbilt University Press

IN THE U.S., mention of “aging in community” might conjure up images of weathered faces in nursing homes and snowbirds in South Florida. And yet, as increasing numbers of Americans reach the golden years—and do so in an uncertain economy—so do the array of scenarios for those growing older. Award-winning journalist Beth Baker traveled across the U.S. to document the possibilities in her latest book, With a Little Help from Our Friends: Creating Community as We Grow Older.

Some of her findings aren’t so surprising. Baby boomers have a stronger desire for independence than did their predecessors, and they aren’t keen on being tagged “elderly.” In fact, they generally see themselves in a different cohort than those born just prior to the boom.

Whether you’re in one of the aforementioned age groups or a diligent millennial thinking way ahead, Baker shows that imagining how you’ll one day balance independence with human connection in your older years doesn’t have to be daunting.

“That we can raise this question is remarkable. Never before have older people, often through their own imagination and determination, had real options from which to choose,” she writes.

Baker describes a wide array of communities—some with walls, some without. For example, the village concept makes it easier for people to age in place by providing them with a social network. In nonprofit versions, many services come from the aging themselves, who share volunteer duties according to their abilities. This builds relationships and fosters self-esteem as people begin to lose control of certain aspects of their life. In for-profit village programs, people pay into a local network that specializes in sending out the right professionals for things such as home attendant care, home maintenance, and other goods and services. Similar plans have been set up in Naturally Occurring Retirement Communities (NORCs), where, by some coincidence, an entire neighborhood or apartment building finds itself aging together and thus organizes services to accommodate the group’s changing needs.

There are also many options for those who want to share housing or invest in cooperatives. The most effective options, Baker notes, are the ones built around common interests and identities. In fact, she says that many of these communities are helping people find creative outlets and try new activities.

A California community created its own group of older playwrights and filmmakers. For many it was the first time they had ever tried the arts. In the Northeast, a group of highly educated intellectuals began a movement “without walls,” wherein its members meet for plays and philosophical dinner conversations. That informal structure creates a safe place for planning and talking about the inevitable end-of-life experience.

Social activism can also be an important bond. Once a military base, the intentional community of Hope Meadows in Rantoul, Ill., has been converted into a foster community for children in the care of child protective services. Older people receive affordable housing in exchange for mentoring the kids and serving as a support to their foster families.

The drawbacks? Highly structured community living can be jarring for people who have spent decades developing a different routine, and investment in long-term living facilities don’t always work out as promised. In one gay and lesbian community, virtually all the residents complained that they bought into a facility offering a series of community dinners and social activities that never came to fruition.

The book is an excellent resource for considering where you want to live, what you’ll have to live on, and what level of interaction feels comfortable and logistically necessary. It’s a helpful, hopeful take on communal life even as we age. 

This appears in the January 2015 issue of Sojourners