In previous
posts, I’ve written that many current options for senior life, specifically the
common American model of large facilities in non-walkable settings and an
observed Venetian arrangement that may have lacked adequate social contact, may not be meeting the needs of seniors. I then suggested that urbanism, even if imperfectly
applied in the Venetian example, offers good opportunities for fulfilling and contented
senior years. (I also wrote that many seniors
are trapped in suburbia by
market forces, but that’s a thread that I won’t continue until later posts.)
So the
question for today is if we want to provide more opportunities for seniors to
live in urban places, what should the housing options be?
(Several
responses to earlier posts highlighted the specific need for affordable senior
housing. I understand and appreciate the
perspective, but note that there are also few urban options for more affluent
seniors. I agree that any new
development should include affordable elements, but the challenge should be urban
options for everyone, including all seniors.
Also, I’ll note that a city with a strong urbanist focus and a tax
structure in which the municipal costs are allocated fairly may have less need to
create affordable housing.)
In some
ways, the question above about senior living options isn’t well-framed. Seniors aren’t a species apart. There’s not one type of urban housing that
fits the needs of all seniors any more than there is one type of housing that
fits the needs of all middle-aged folks.
But we can talk about a range of options, including the points on which
the housing needs of seniors may differ from others.
For many
seniors, the preferred residential option is little different from that of
younger people. For seniors who are healthy
and capable of self-care and daily tasks, a comfortable and appropriately-priced
apartment or condominium in an urban setting can be a fine choice.
Although not
specifically targeted toward seniors, it’s comforting to think of seniors
finding a home in the redevelopment of the oldest American mall,
in Providence, Rhode Island. The paring
of my library would be wrenching, but otherwise my wife and I could likely enjoy
life in a 900-square-foot apartment in a historic building.
Perhaps the
only difference between the needs of seniors and of younger folks is the needed
proximity of key retail outlets. Seniors
are more likely to have given up driving or to have timidity behind the wheel,
so having a grocery store and pharmacy within easy walking distance can be
important. (As positive as Theatre
Square has been for Petaluma, the nearest grocery store, unless one counts 7-11,
is four blocks away and a pharmacy can only be reached by car or transit, so
downtown Petaluma isn’t yet senior-ready.)
Other
seniors, as age begins to take a toll, may need a stronger support system. Urban residential buildings limited to age-55
and older, with a site manager tasked with daily checks on the residents, could
meet the need. But I’m more intrigued
with a concept called “naturally-occurring retirement communities” or NORCs.
A group of
seniors with like interests could find each other and gradually establish a
pattern of daily contact, perhaps breakfast in an urban diner or a
mid-afternoon beverage in an urban pub.
When a member of the group fails to appear, someone knocks on a front
door as a check. And if a member needs
assistance for medical reasons, the others participate in the support.
It’s true that
NORCs can also occur in suburban settings, but the lesser density of seniors makes
it harder to find a community of common interest. Also, many of the meeting places where NORCs
coalesce aren’t available on foot in suburban settings and the required use of
a car disqualifies many seniors from participation. NORCs are best suited to urban settings.
Progressing into
the later years, many seniors will eventually need assisted living or transitional
care, a use that is typically sited in American communities far away from urban
settings. But, other than land cost,
there is little reason why assisted living facilities can’t be located in urban
places.
But perhaps
they needn’t be located right in the heart of an urban core. I have a 92-year-old aunt living in a
transitional care facility in the East Bay, less than a block from an urban
arterial. When first advised of the
location, I was the thrilled by the proximity to urban activity. But what I soon learned was that few
residents would walk the short distance to the arterial, fearful of falling
amidst the jostling pedestrians and of urban crime. For my aunt, a small grocery store across the
street from the senior facility, but not on the arterial, is the most important
amenity.
Also, when
my uncle was still alive, he and my aunt would often walk through the dense,
varied, and architecturally-interesting residential neighborhood spreading
outward from the arterial. In
particular, my uncle enjoyed tidying up the sidewalk as he walked, using his
cane to bump cigarette butts into the foliage where they could decompose
unseen. The gentle, pun-loving man would
take pride in his cleanup duties, saying it proved that he could still “kick
butt” in his 90s.
It was a
story that wouldn’t have occurred in most American senior facilities, either
because there are few places to walk outside the front doors or because the
surrounding neighborhoods are too sterile to entice walking.
We can find
ways to provide senior living in urban settings. With only a few tweaks, it isn’t much different
than providing residential opportunities for all of us in urban settings. Of course, we’ve only begun to tackle that
deficiency.
In my next
post, I’ll offer a few insights about incentivizing urban residential growth,
with a particular eye on senior living. After
that, I’ll change over to the question of bringing a few urban amenities to the
seniors stuck in suburbia.
As always,
your questions or comments will be appreciated.
Please comment below or email me.
And thanks for reading. - Dave Alden (davealden53@comcast.net)
No comments:
Post a Comment