This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Jennifer Tapner, Executive Director of The Watermark at Brooklyn Heights, a senior living community. It has been edited for length and clarity.
Two years ago, I was managing 10 senior living communities across the country when I started to miss the human interaction and relationships with the very people I was working for — older adults.
An executive director role within my company became available, and while most viewed this as a step back in my career, I raised my hand for the job, eager to be in closer contact with residents.
The job was based in Brooklyn Heights, New York, too far to commute from my home near Philadelphia, so I packed my bags and decided to move with my German Shepherd Chihuahua mix dog, Diego. I return home to my husband on the weekends.
We took an 11th-floor apartment in the same high-rise building as all the other 200 residents. While I am working during the day managing the community, outside work hours, I live alongside everyone else.
I have my meals with the residents
My day starts at 7 a.m. with a run, as I’m training for the New York City Marathon.
All the residents get really excited when they see me leaving and then arriving home each morning. No matter the weather, they greet me in the lobby, asking me how the run was, how the training is going, and if I am having fun preparing for the race.
They’re all planning a cheer squad for me on the day of the marathon. I genuinely think they are enjoying the training and anticipation more than I am.
Although I have a kitchen in my apartment, I haven’t used the stove once during my entire stay, opting instead to eat my meals with the residents in the dining room.
After work, we walk our dogs together, having formed a dog walking club. All the residents put their dogs in little vests with illumination strips.
Even though I could disappear to my room every night, I love joining in with whatever they’re all doing. We’ll play games, watch movies, go to a Mets game, and have pizza parties on each other’s floors.
I cherish these interactions
The interactions with these older people have been among the most cherished experiences of my life. The stories they share with me in our deep conversations have given me a different perspective on life — one that reveals how fleeting life is.
Before this year, I recall listening to the concerns they shared — how the shower pressure was low, or how they needed more warm, communal spaces in the winter — but not sharing their perspective, because I didn’t see things from their point of view. But when I moved in, immersed in their world, I could feel what they felt, see what they saw.
It’s made me a better listener, even more empathetic than I was previously.
They have so many stories to share
Recently, I saw a resident leave the restaurant without eating dinner. Following him, I asked why he hadn’t eaten.
“I’m just really sad today,” he said.
He asked if we could go on a walk with Diego as a bit of a distraction, and that night, we talked endlessly while walking around Brooklyn Heights. Afterward, he was like a different person, happy and light.
This is a moment I would have never experienced had I not been living on-site. I’m here to witness their loneliness and sadness, and sit with them in it.
I believe older adults are often overlooked in society, particularly those who lack family to visit frequently. But we as a society need to learn to pause and listen to their voices. They aren’t just numbers; these seniors are individuals with rich histories, diverse professions, varied experiences, and compelling stories.
There will be times when I need advice or thoughts, and I now have 200 mentors to consult. One resident teaches at Juilliard, so I’ve gone to him to speak about program ideas. Another was a businessperson, so I spoke with her about business perspectives on plans I have.
I might have thought that setting boundaries would be difficult to do living here, but this hasn’t been the case. Residents respect that when I’m “off duty,” I don’t want to talk about work.
When they see me in the morning or evenings, I’m just another resident to them — not a director.
Although at times exhausting, keeping up with the residents and their busy social lives, I have no regrets. I won’t be able to sustain this lifestyle forever, but for now, it’s fantastic.
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