My grandparents were social people. Once. I know this because I knew them, some 20-odd years ago as a child visiting Pakistan. They had chai with their neighbors, chatted with the doodhwalla [milkman] and bargained their way through the markets in the city of Lahore. They were lively, much-loved, essential parts of their tightly-knit community. But everything’s different now. Now, they live in the suburbs of New Jersey. Outside of children, grandchildren, occasional visits to church and medical visits, they don’t see many people. Their friends are in Pakistan, or scattered across the globe in the homes of their own children. And as they grow older, my grandparents, trapped by their deteriorating bodies, have traded scooters and cars for walkers and wheelchairs. I can see the loneliness in their eyes. But they aren’t the only ones.
Sunday’s New York Times featured an article called “Invisible Immigrants, Old and Left With ‘Nobody to Talk To,” about elderly immigrants in America whose lack of social connectedness can be caused by many barriers - including poverty, lack of transportation and language restrictions.
Many are aging parents of naturalized American citizens, reuniting with their families. Yet experts say that America’s ethnic elderly are among the most isolated people in America. Seventy percent of recent older immigrants speak little or no English. Most do not drive. Some studies suggest depression and psychological problems are widespread, the result of language barriers, a lack of social connections and values that sometimes conflict with the dominant American culture, including those of their assimilated children.
The article profiled some of the members of The 100 Years Living Club, a group of elderly desi men based in Fremont, California who gather in the front of a mall five days a week to chitchat. Many of the men spoke of being pressured out of their children’s homes into separate dwellings.
Mr. Singh, the widower, grew up in a boisterous Indian household with 14 family members. In Fremont, he moved in with his son’s family and devoted himself to his grandchildren, picking them up from school and ferrying them to soccer practice. Then his son and daughter-in-law decided “they wanted their privacy,” said Mr. Singh, an undertone of sadness in his voice. He reluctantly concluded he should move out. So when he leaves the Hub, dead leaves swirling around its fake cobblestones, Mr. Singh drives to the rented room in a house he found on Craigslist. His could be a dorm room, except for the arthritis heat wraps packed neatly in plastic bins. “In India there is a favorable bias toward the elders,” Mr. Singh said, sitting amid Hindu religious posters and a photograph of his late wife. “Here people think about what is convenient and inconvenient for them.”
Which makes me wonder, how long until more nursing homes open up desi units? Or even (*gasp), nursing homes catering solely towards desi clientele? Sure, putting the elderly in nursing homes isn’t a typical tradition in the South Asian culture, but as the article correctly points out, traditions are changing. The nuclear family is taking over the extended family.
My own mother, who’s worked as a nurse at a nursing home for the past eight years, is fully prepared for the nursing home life come post-retirement. “I’m not going to rely on my American kids,” she tells us, despite our remonstrations. Even as she drives two hours every weekend to visit her own mother and of late, has spend nights sleeping in an uncomfortable chair at the hospital, beside her, she maintains that the structure of our American families won’t allow for the type of all-inclusive care she provides her own ailing parents. Is she right? I sure hope not, but given the high number of Asian residents she sees at her nursing home, it doesn’t seem implausible. And given that so many elderly immigrants are shuttered from the outside world, would such a facility provide them with the opportunity to interact in a meaningful way with peers from similar backgrounds? Or is that just wishful thinking?
An article in yesterday’s Washington Post, suggests that facilities that cater to elderly immigrants from exclusive populations are successful at attracting residents and keeping them happy.
In the Washington area, which has residents from 193 countries, there are retirement homes that cater to a single ethnic group, such as Chinese or Korean, serving their native foods and hiring staff who speak their native tongues. Now some general population facilities are also tailoring their services to an increasingly diverse clientele.
“Everyone is going to have to learn more about various ethnic and cultural sensitivities, because the marketplace of aging is getting more diverse,” said Larry Minnix, president and chief executive of the American Association of Homes and Services for the Aging. “I think, over the next five to 10 years, you’re going to see a lot of attention paid to this.”
But the article also pointed the gaps in care for more hard-to-reach groups, like South Asians.
There are also fewer facilities catering to more recent arrivals. “If you’re, say, kosher Jewish, there’s plenty of places,” Minnix said. “But what do you do if you’re Pakistani? I don’t think we’ve got any disciplined, well-thought-out answer to that.”
Well, do we? So far, I’ve found only one center in New Jersey that promotes itself as an “Indian Care Nursing Home.” As far as I can tell, it’s the only one of its kind. Anyone know of any others? Know anyone who’s enrolled in one? Likes it? Hates it? What’s your long-term plan for your parents?
