Buggies and wheelchairs can coexist in urban high rises.
Please don't make me move to senior housing. I'm 83 and fit, but what if a day comes that I'm not. Will a walker or wheelchair force me out of my intergenerational highrise and into segregated senior care?
I'm not criticizing senior housing that includes apartments for independent living, assisted living, dementia care, and other licensed services. For some older adults, these facilities are the best option. And with winter weather or Covid restrictions, having all needs met indoors is obviously beneficial.
But who could blame me for wanting to age in place? My building offers a 24-hour maintenance staff, an outdoor swimming pool, a fully equipped gym, a dog spa and outdoor dog run, a space for office work, a kitchen, and an amenity floor for parties and lectures. There is also a pool table and screening room.
I may be the oldest person among the 44 floors. Nevertheless, I want to live here until the end of my days. But I realize there will come a time when I may need medical assistance; foods prepared for me, and other features that senior housing facilities offer as part of the rental or buy-in package.
The median age of the population in my Chicago neighborhood is 33.5. They are my neighbors. Would they not renew their leases if they had to share an elevator with someone riding in a wheelchair, or pushing a walker?
Hold on a minute. I cheerfully hold the door open for baby buggies when my dog Doris and I are heading out for a walk. Grocery carts that are used by neighbors mimic walkers.
And what about those that haul their bikes, scooters, golf bags, and other awkward accessories to their apartments? I'm tolerant; I'm certain they would be, too.
If one day I should need rehab services, medical treatment, prepared meals, my building, and others like it, could have it covered. Just a few adjustments can make it work for me and for other seniors who want to remain in the high rises that pierce Chicago's skyline.
Let's think creatively and compassionately about adapting my building for folks of my advanced age. And let's also acknowledge the anxiety endured by our elders in a move to a place unfamiliar.
Why not entice medical personnel to be residents with offers of reduced rent? For that deal, they would be required to spend a certain number of hours attending to the needs of unwell seniors. Perhaps their skills can also be a bonus for younger folk who need immediate treatment for an accident or job-related anxiety?
The millennials who work in nearby tech industries are my neighbors. They could pledge a number of hours fetching groceries, chauffeuring us to doctor's appointments, or rebooting our computers. Let's discount their monthly rent, too.
There is a fully equipped kitchen in my high rise. It is occasionally used for parties. Imagine it becoming busy with lunch or dinner orders for seniors not anxious or able to cook nourishing meals. Nutritionists could provide the know-how.
One of the additions offered by many senior-only facilities is a roster of programs for residents. Our amenity floor could serve the same purpose. Ditto for the screening room
I'm pitching my dream because I do not want to live out my remaining years in a place sans babies, dogs of all sizes, and mirror images of my young adult grandchildren. Also, I think that younger generations and children benefit from interacting with their elders. This sort of mixing inspires tolerance.
My desire springs from an experience in a community that not only welcomed this population, but also envisioned a racial and economic mix.
South Commons on Chicago's near south side still exists, but not as the utopia my family lived in during the 1970s.
On 30 acres of land was a mix of housing styles for rent or purchase. It was designed to unite people of all races, incomes, and ages. The community center housed an ecumenical church and classrooms used for a K-6 public school, a theatre group, a basketball court, craft center, an office for our community newspaper, and other spaces designed to bring this blend of residents together.
My highrise is not spread upon acres. But it is intergenerational. If it adhered to a set-aside requirement for a certain number of units to be affordable, we already have -- albeit a small number -- of those apartments.
Our residents are already racially and ethnically mixed and live on every floor.
What my building lacks is more people my age.
Am I being foolish, unrealistic, a dreamer? Oh, you flatter me.
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