Never Too Old to Learn

Hedda von Goeben with Students in Ceramic Lab

This summer we saw a unique example of the application of the value expressed in this quote from a past Kendal Corporation  annual report, "The Kendal idea fosters the integration of continuing learning in all aspects of community life and work for residents, staff, and board members."  One way through which Kendal communities work to fulfill this value is to form links with local educational facilities.  This particular Kendal has been linked closely with Denison University in Granville since its inception.  Many of our residents are Denison graduates and some taught or worked there in other capacities.  Many of the speakers who provide programs for us are Denison faculty members.  Their art department has provided student art for shows in our Art Gallery.

Denison offers a Community Scholars program which grants persons 30 years of age or older the privilege of taking one course per semester as an auditor for a nominal fee.   Various residents have taken advantage of this program from time to time in the six years since Kendal at Granville opened.  What we saw happen this summer involves  one of those persons in particular, Hedda von Goeben.   The availability of the Community Scholars program was one of the reasons she chose to move here from her home in Connecticut.  Hedda came here with a lifelong love of art which over the years had developed into an extensive knowledge and understanding of a wide variety of art forms.   As soon as she moved here in the summer of 2005 she registered at Denison for any class in the art department with an opening for a Community Scholar.  She began with sculpture, then went into a class for life drawing, followed by a year of printmaking and painting and finally after waiting four years an opening appeared in her favorite - a ceramics class! 

In September 2010  upon the occasion of a show in entitled "One Thing Led to Another" in the Bryant Art  at Denison she wrote, "One thing has led to another and I have already registed for my eleventh semester in the Denison art department."   Residents here who were familiar with her work admired her creations and were therefore delighted to learn that this summer something new and different would be offered through the Denison art department.  Hedda would be given the opportunity to lead a class for fellow residents during the summer when students were off campus.  Thus the student became the teacher.

The class filled quickly with ten persons, all new to the study of ceramics with the exception of one who told me she had not done any work with ceramics for fifty years.  The class met from 10:00 a.m. to 2:00 p.m. for ten days.  One of the class members commented to me that they had a "wonderful time working together and getting to know each other better".  An exhibit of their works with a reception was held on the last day of class.  Everyone who came from the exhibit told the rest of us who couldn't make it that their creations were fabulous.

Fortunately, as the person responsible for our display cabinet I was able to get them to share their creations with us for the month of September.  I have also learned that they are looking forward to repeating their experience once again in January when the Denison students are again off campus. Obviously we are never too old to learn.  See samples of displays from original exhibit below.

 

Our August Seminar on Drinking

Guest speakers are a regular feature of evening life at Kendal. They come to share their ideas and lives with us, and they arrive representing all sorts of interests and backgrounds. Just this past year, for example, our roster of speakers has included business people, educators, local historians, collectors, poets, hobbyists, directors of philanthropic organizations, story tellers, physicians, and travelers. They acquaint us with facets of our world that our daily conversations with friends, our viewing of television, our reading, and our web-surfing are not likely to leave us informed about. And we recognize this. That's why it's not surprising that these evening talks, usually lasting an hour or so (including Q&A), are widely attended.

Part of the attractiveness of the speakers' program is that it isn't thematic. Speakers are scheduled as their availability allows. Consequently, one guest might talk of a school for clowns, the next about the origins of the universe, and a third about genealogical research. We don't get in a rut. Across the course of a year there's something for almost everybody. But sometimes something surprising happens, an unplanned linkage occurs, and unexpectedly we have . . . a seminar!

That's what happened earlier this month when, within the space of a little more than a week, two speakers, quite unknown to each other and without any prior planning, told us about beverages – with particular attention to alcoholic beverages. The result was a conversation among a number of residents about the character and implications of American drinking habits.

The first speaker, a chemist by training, told us about the importance of water for human life (no startling news there, of course!) and then identified the six major ways in which humans have made water more potable and tasty. The earliest device, perhaps as much as 10,000 years old, was beer, with wine coming along several thousand years later. Distilled beverages followed, and then arrived coffee, tea, and . . . yes . . . soft drinks. As he guided us on this historical excursion, our speaker enlivened the evening with anecdotes, forays into molecular structures (he had some building-block models to pass around), and bottled samples of his subjects. He gave us an information-packed hour of fun and instruction, and by the time it was over we all had a fuller sense of how the marvelous ingenuity of our forebears has supplied our own era with such a formidable array of beverages to choose from when we want to quench our thirsts.

Unlike this first speaker, our second speaker, who was an anthropologist by training, came with a policy purpose. A student of the drinking cultures of several continents, he hoped to persuade us that this country could be wiser in its choice of policies to address the problem of alcohol abuse. Again we heard amusing tales – but this time of African workers celebrating at the end of a long day of labor and of American college administrators coping with student resistance to under-age drinking laws. Again anecdotes enlivened the presentation, but they were chosen in part to challenge the assumption that rigorous anti-drinking laws are the best way for a society to address the harm that comes from excessive alcohol consumption.

Both talks were followed by lively (but never heated) discussions, as residents sought more information or clarifications from the speakers, or chose to speak of events in their own lives that bore on the subjects of the talks. The only element missing in our unplanned "classroom" experience was the opportunity to see the two speakers on-stage together, discussing (with us as participants, of course) the character of drinking in America. But even without such a fantasy face-off (and perhaps "face-off" is the wrong term: for all I know, they would have agreed on most points), we had contrived to create for ourselves a summer seminar. Those of us who attended the presentations are wiser for the experience.

Names Are More Than Labels

Names are more than labels.  In some societies and cultures to know someones name means to be able to control that individual so names are closely guarded.  In others names are given to hide or disguise the child in order to protect them from a jealous god. 

Not so in most of our society. .Often the parents who named us as children spent many hours before our birth picking out our names.  They may have looked up the meanings of names.  No doubt they considered how a given name sounded with the family name. In some families an old family name is passed on from generation to generation.  If you are lucky it's a well-loved name.  Sometimes a son ends up with his mother's maiden family name as his middle name which is then passed on.  Not infrequently that results in some odd middle names. e.g. Dingledorfer.

Then there are the times when the parents so want a boy and got a girl that the girl gets a feminized version of a boys name.   A quick look at a list of class names over a period of years will reveal that names go through cycles of popularity. There were four Nancy's in my sisters class all though elementary and high school.   Names may be picked from the Bible, movie stars, famous people, etc. 

Nicknames become attached to some people and become better known than the names given to them by their parents.  Some are closely related to the original such as Rob for Robert and Liz or Beth for Elizabeth.  Others have interesting stories of origination.

What's in a name that makes it more than a label? My husband used to say that a person's name was his most precious possession. Our names give each of us our unique identity

 In today's world where many entities assign us numbers as identities our names often seem to get lost. You may call for information from your bank, credit card company, health insurance, or Medicare and they don't ask for your name. Instead, they wll ask for your account number, your telephone number, your zip code and in some instances you may even have to give a password. By the time you get to that, if you are like me, you have to refer to your password reference list lest you give the wrong password and they hang up on you as an imposter!

Fortunately for those of us who live here at Kendal at Granville our staff recognizes that each of us are unique individuals. One important way they show this is by learning our names and then calling us by name whenever they come in contact with us.  I am constantly surprised and delighted to note how quickly new employees learn the names of all of our residents.  One place this is particularly evident is in the dining room.  As we go through the line to get our hot food or as they see someone in need of help each of them calls us by name.  It is a life affirming experience to be so recognized daily by our staff.  It tells us that we matter to them.  We may have numbers on our charts and in the accounting office, but all of the staff including the Finance Manager and the Billing Manager call us by name not by number. 

Groundbreaking!

We've begun!! The long-anticipated Phase II of Kendal construction was formally launched on Wednesday, July 20, with the official groundbreaking ceremony. The weather was sunny and hot for the outdoor event, but with the aid of spacious tents and a bit of a breeze, the overflow crowd could be accommodated relatively comfortably. The audience consisted of residents and staff; people who will be joining our community when the project is completed; local government officials who assisted us in the long planning process; bankers and financial advisers who helped us secure our financing; representatives of both the architectural firm that consulted with us in designing our plans and the contracting firm that will let us realize them; and officers from Kendal Corporation, whose oversight helped us every step of the way.

When the project is completed in about eighteen months, Kendal at Granville will have twenty-four new apartment units, a broadly expanded health center, and a Gathering Room large enough to host musical and theatrical events, large meetings, and all sorts of major social and business occasions. I won't pretend that all residents look forward to the construction noise and the disruptions of life which will inevitably attend this project. But everyone at Kendal acknowledges that we will be a stronger and healthier community when the work has been done. And so we'll look upon the coming year-and-a-half as an adventure.

As for the groundbreaking ceremony itself, it was appropriately celebratory. Five speakers addressed the project. Doug Helman, our Executive Director, thanked all those who had contributed to the realization of the ambition of planting a CCRC in Granville, including the pioneers who, back in the years when the Kendal at Granville project was but a dream of some local visionaries, had given time, imagination, and money to support the idea. John Diffey, President of Kendal Corporation, congratulated us on our achievement and situated the project within the wider conspectus of Kendal's goal of service. Tom Mills, President of the Kendal at Granville board of trustees, commended the board for its hard work. William Mason, Granville Township Trustee, spoke of the amicable and mutually supportive relationship of Kendal and the town of Granville. Harriett Stone, Kendal at Granville's first board president and first resident, directed the minds of the audience back to the groundbreaking of 2003, when Kendal at Granville was launched, and invited us all to believe that similar success will attend our current endeavor.

Everyone has seen the iconic photographs that mark a groundbreaking occasion. We contributed our own set of images for future historians to consult – shots of small lines of familiar and not-so-familiar faces, everyone beaming at the camera while sporting hard hats and brandishing shovels. (Thanks to the foresightedness of the Marketing department, the hats bore the inscription of Kendal at Granville, and the shovels were gilded.)

Unlike many ceremonies of this sort, Kendal's groundbreaking ended before the scheduled termination hour, and given the mounting heat of the late morning, few attendees can have been regretful. At that point we repaired to the lobby, where, in the coolness of the interior, a grand buffet meal awaited us. Everyone will have his or her own favorite dish from the meal, but the offerings that stirred the most enthusiastic commentary afterward were the stacks of clams and the sinfully chocolatey dirt puddings.

The meal was a memorable conclusion to a meaningful morning. Everyone now knew that Phase II – for so long the subject of discussions, analyses, worries, hopes, and predictions – was under way. So let the fun begin!

Take Me Out To The Ballgame

Some weeks ago I was one of five residents who drove to Huntington Park to see a Columbus Clippers baseball game. The Clippers are the triple-A farm team of the Cleveland Indians, and if their play this season is indicative of what the Indians of the future will be like, Tribe followers should have smiles on their faces in the coming years – always assuming they can manage to keep the talent. But what drew us to the ballpark on this sunny day wasn't the success of the team but the prospect of watching minor league baseball in a fan-friendly arena. For Huntington Park, now in just its second year of operation, is widely acknowledged to be a model for successful minor league franchises in the changed world of the twenty-first century - open and clean, and with clear lines of sight, good food, lively inter-inning entertainment, and comfortable seats. Oh yes . . . it offers great baseball games too!

While driving into Columbus we shared tales of ball games attended in the past, of major league stadiums visited, of childhood team loyalties gratified and betrayed. As a son of New York, I had been a Yankee fan in my youth. Others had grown up cheering for less successful teams, suffering with and for such squads as the Reds and the Pirates. We all had our stories to swap. And of course we talked of much else too. If you get a bunch of gabby seniors together, shaped by lifetimes of challenges and joys, there's an agenda for conversation that extends far beyond the temporal confines of drives to and from the ballpark.

One thing we hadn't reckoned on when we bought the tickets in advance: the day turned out to be hot. Hot as hell, some might say. And our seats were in the sun. Why hadn't we chosen a night game?, we wondered. And so even though we had our headgear, our light clothing, and our sunscreen, many of us chose to spend some of game standing in the shade of a stadium overhang or seeking out the comfort of a food stand.

Which brings me to an important point. One thing that hasn't changed is the scrumptiousness of ballpark food. Hotdogs (I skip the mustard, but many don't), French fries, ice cream confections - wow! And I shouldn't forget the ballpark staple of beer, although actually, since I was driving, I passed up on suds for a Coke float on this day. Still, in either case, the satisfaction of feeling a cold drink flowing down a dry throat on a hot afternoon is intense and memorable.

An oddity of the day of our visit was that all the middle schools of the Columbus suburb of Dublin had sent their students on a field trip to a baseball game, and so there were what seemed like thousands of 12-to-14-year-olds doing their thing in the ballpark. Out in the left field stands, for example, a large group of junior high girls cheered on the Clippers with what were probably adapted football chants, while along the promenade that circles the stadium some of the kids ignored baseball completely and just kept strolling. One thing for sure: this is an age group that likes food and can pack it in. And, in what will pass as my only sociological observation, this is an age group that travels in large packs – packs moreover that are single-gender in character. That, we can only presume, will soon change. The sight of this school gang prompted us in the Kendal crowd to summon up childhood memories of the rather more uplifting and sober sort of school field trips in our youths – visits to such sites as museums, concerts, presidential homes, and wildlife preserves. I guess the change is a sign of the times.

What about the ball game?, you may by now be asking. Well, it was a good one. The visitors jumped off to a big lead, aided by some incredibly sloppy fielding by the home team. Then the good guys staged a comeback. But in the end it wasn't enough, and the Clippers went down to a rare defeat. We saw home runs, a double play, some gutsy base running, and several players who seemed destined for the Bigs. By the end, I think the Kendal gang was glad it was over, but even if we were all rather sweaty, we weren't wilted, and our conversation on the drive home was as lively as our earlier one. I suspect we all were looking forward to taking showers before dinner; and it's likely that when we next head off for a baseball game in Columbus, we'll choose a night game. But we'll do it again. For going to a baseball game is, in the final analysis, a very enjoyable experience and an occasion for generating memories. And we all treasure our memories.

A Teddy Bear's Picnic - Living Among the Young at Heart

The July first morning activities of the Gallery Committee turned out to be an example of what it means to "live among the young at heart." That morning we set up a new exhibit in our display cabinet. Its theme: A Teddy Bear's Picnic. Three factors led me to suggest this theme. The first was the indication by several residents that they had teddy bears available for our use. .The second was my quick association of the song "The Teddy Bear's Picnic" with any teddy bear activity. Thirdly I recalled the community picnic which is a part of the greater Granville huge Fourth of July annual celebration. What could be a better theme for an exhibit of teddy bears in July?

In April following my preliminary announcement of our intention to have a "Teddy Bear's Picnic" as the theme for our July-August exhibit I was surprised at how very soon I began to hear from the various persons wanting to bring me their bears. I had only asked at the time if anyone had a red checked tablecloth and/or fitted picnic basket we could borrow. I explained that I had no accommodations for teddy bears at my apartment. Each caller was advised that the anxious little bears would get written invitations in due time with all of the details as to the time and place to report.

Even so I continued to get calls from residents eager to give me the pedigree and personal backgrounds of their bears. Some wanted to let me know they had a Steiff or a Gund bear. Others told me about their bears hand made of fur, quilts, shirts, etc. Still others would be dressed in all sorts of outfits and some would just be bare bears. It became apparent that we would have wee bears, little bears, medium bears, and large bears. A surprising number told me they would bring their own chairs. There were bears who had helped their owners recover from surgery, bears who brought comfort, and bears who had been loved by several generations of children. Altogether the stories told by the owners revealed a rich variety of shared experiences.

As I listened to all of these stories I was struck by the manner in which the community had caught the spirit of the theme and were looking forward to their bear/s taking part in an event which they saw as fun. To me it is evidence of how young in heart they are in spirit although they may not be so young in calendar years.

At the appointed hour on July first the bears began to arrive. Once each one was tagged committee members found places for each of them along with the picnic items which incuded a basket with containers labeled peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and potato salad along with a couple of bags of potato chips. Setting on the red checked tablecloth was a container marked pink lemonade, a small basket of grapes, a jar of peanut butter and a jar of honey - a bear's favorite. Two ice coolers sat nearby.

As committee members worked residents kept stopping to ask questions and then staying to listen to the stories of the individual bears. Although it was work to get it all in place, it was the kind of work one enjoys because of the spirit that pervaded - a feeling that for at least awhile we were very young at heart as we joined the teddy bears at their picnic.

Voices of Love

One of my primary reasons for choosing to come to live at Kendal at Granville was the fact that I had come to know the reputation of Kendal communities for the quality of care. As a nurse who had taught geriatrics I had high expectations when I arrived. Now almost six years later I can say that I have not been disappointed. Largely this is due to what I think of as the many voices of love which exemplify the manner in which the underlying Quaker value of respect for others is shown here.


If anyone doubts that love still exists I would invite them to visit here and observe carefully the many ways in which love abounds. I not only see it and hear it in many ways every day, but I feel it as well. It is evident in the common ordinary actions of both staff and residents


It may be in the careful manner a young caregiver feeds a patient who needs help with eating. Often it's seen as a therapist walks slowly alongside a resident recovering from knee surgery. I felt it when the therapists turned some of our required exercises into games thus making them less tedious. Many times it is evident in the words of encouragement which keep us motivated when the going is rough. Other times I have detected it in the voice of one of our young aides coaxing a patient out of bed when they are reluctant to get up for needed exercise


I've observed it in the simple act of a friend nightly taking a cookie to a an old college buddy who is no longer able to come to the dining room for meals and staying with him for a brief visit. I've seen it reflected by a friend offering to shop for another resident who didn't feel quite up to par. Often it's demonstrated by a spouse pushing his/her life partner in a wheelchair so they can be together for activities


It can be heard in the voice of one resident reading to a another resident whose vision no longer allows her to read for herself. Or overheard when a husband or wife patiently explains once more what's offered on the menu when a spouse can't quite remember what's just been said.


It may be heard in the sound of familiar melodies being played on the piano after dinner by a talented residents willing to share her talent. One night as I went down the hall towards the mailboxes to get my mail I met first one person singing and then another humming the melody they had just heard in the lobby on their way back to their respective apartments having caught the spirit of that same music.

In the summer it may be evidenced by an able bodied resident going outside to pick a bouquet of flowers thus bringing inside a bit of the outside for a less able person. One person quietly shows her love for people by doing mending and alterations without accepting anything for her time and effort except a simple thank you.


Yes, this is a place full of love and loving deeds done quietly without fanfare - the kind of love that makes the world truly a better place to live - especially our world here at Kendal.