Close your eyes and picture a senior living community. What do you see? What do the residents look like? What are they doing?
Now picture your dream retirement. What are you doing?
Not playing bingo, are you?
In the 1900s, as life expectancy rose in the United States, so did a troubling misconception: that older adults become burdensome, passive and purposeless. When FDR signed the Social Security Act in 1935 and set the retirement age at 65, society quietly adopted another belief—that dreams expire at the same time.
This idea is not only wrong, it is limiting, and it carries real consequences for older adults. I didn’t fully grasp how wrong it was until this past August, when I moved into a senior living community in Marietta, Ohio for two weeks. I’d been invited to Glenwood to conduct research for my company, SilverShield, which helps people to spot and stop scams. The product insights were valuable, but everything I learned about purpose, independence and aging far outweighed them.
Purpose as a Way of Life
Like many people, I had assumed that senior living was about winding down—a place where people waited for life to shrink. What I discovered instead was a community overflowing with purpose, built entirely by the residents themselves.
Arthur, who used to paint signs in the military, handwrites the activities board every night. He teaches watercolor classes, hosts an art competition twice a year, and keeps a garage filled with memories, projects, and his prized car, an MG roadster convertible.
Frank personally maintains the croquet field—mowing, edging, perfecting it for Tuesday night matches. Carol teaches bell-ringing—both beginner and advanced levels. One couple runs competitive card tournaments on Thursdays. Joan’s apartment overflows with quilled paper art (a craft where thin paper strips are rolled, shaped, and arranged into decorative designs), which she teaches how to make and sells.
None of this is “programming” that was handed to them by the senior living community. It is purpose that they created, fueled by skill, passion and the desire to share their interests with others.
Resilience and Grace in the Face of Change
Physical challenges and big life changes unfortunately go hand-in-hand with age. What struck me at Glenwood was not the challenges, but the attitude with which people met them.
One woman described breaking her arm and leg after a fall. After surgery, rehab staff told her she would never walk again. She looked me straight in the eye and said, “Now I walk to all my meals. I proved them wrong.”
‘Everyone is here for a reason. This is a new stage for me, and I think I’m here for a purpose.’
At breakfast one morning, Leonard told me about his wife who has had dementia for 10 years and lives in another facility. He smiled as he proudly told me he visits her almost daily, and that their 65th wedding anniversary was coming up.
Sitting at the same table was a new resident who had just lost his wife to dementia. He had played football at Ohio State years ago, but never finished his degree after joining the Navy. Now he was planning to earn his last credit this year. “I promised my wife I’d finish my degree. I’m going for her.”
Gloria, a resident who constantly goes out of her way to help others at Glenwood, told me “Everyone is here for a reason. This is a new stage for me, and I think I’m here for a purpose.” We sat in her modest apartment as she showed me photos of the flowerbeds that surrounded her old house in the hills of Virginia, and shared stories of her past life with her late husband, undoubtedly different from life at Glenwood. But Gloria didn’t depress herself thinking about the life she was no longer living. She faced every day with grace, constantly searching for ways to help other residents and staff however she could.
When life gives you big challenges and changes, the only choice you have is how you move forward. The residents at Glenwood responded with positivity, no matter the circumstance.
Staff Empower Purpose
None of Glenwood’s energy would exist without the staff who enable, not dictate, daily life. Linda Dailey sets the tone with humor, openness and a genuine belief in abundant living. Morning meetings are full of coordination and laughter. She once dressed as Spider-Man and kept her identity secret for months, just to make residents (and staff) smile.
She told me, “Picture your retirement. What would you want to be doing? Not bingo, is it?” Then added, “Our job is to make sure people can have the life they want.” (Ironically, she added that people do get upset if weekly bingo is cancelled!)
Ambition Doesn’t Fade
When astronaut John Glenn returned from space at age 77, he said, “Old folks have dreams and ambitions too, like everybody else.” It shouldn’t take someone going to space for us to realize that. For me, a trip to rural Ohio was all I needed to be reminded that there’s no age limit to purpose and ambition.
My time at Glenwood was meant to inform SilverShield’s mission of fighting elder fraud, and while I left with practical insights, the far greater lesson was this: purpose and ambition don’t fade—they just take new forms. The people I met showed me what that looks like with extraordinary clarity.
All residents’ names have been changed to preserve privacy.
Alec Glassman is the Founder and CEO of SilverShield, a technology company that helps people protect themselves, their families, and their communities from scams and fraud. With a background in computer science and finance, and an MBA from Columbia, Alec has dedicated his career to building impactful technology that makes a real difference in people’s lives.
Photo caption: Greeting cards (top right) made by a resident using his paintings; and schedule of Glenwood activities.
Photo credit: Courtesy of Alec Glassman
