Becoming Who You Are

I was talking with my friend and colleague, Sister Imelda Maurer.

Sister Imelda is a gerontologist, former nursing home administrator, Sister of Divine Providence, and an Advocate with a capital A. She has devoted her life to standing up for others and currently this includes people living in long-term care communities. Her life as a change agent has been long and it is not unusual when you are talking with Sister Imelda that she casually says something like, “Back when Sister Bernie and I were organizing the textile workers in Appalachia…”

Anyway, I digress. Sister Imelda and I were talking about supporting people living with dementia in residential care communities. Frankly, we were sharing our frustrations. About how the medical model of care does not truly meet the needs of people living with dementia. About the stigma of dementia that sees people living with dementia as “not there” or less than, and how this manifests into how we create systems that are lacking in truly honoring the human spirit.

Sister Imelda tells me a story about “Sister Catherine” (real person, name changed).

Sister Catherine is a fellow Sister who is living in a nursing home. She lives with dementia and she is not happy with where she is living. Sister Imelda had asked her what the nursing home could do differently.

Sister Catherine says, “I wish they would let us become who we are.”

Whoa.

 Let’s unpack this profound, beautiful sentence.

With these words there is the expressed sentiment that Sister Catherine not only knows who she is, but feels that she cannot be herself. It leads one to question whether, when we hear that a person with dementia has lost a sense of self, it is because we are not creating the conditions for a person to be themselves. In some cases, we might be actively keeping a person from being themselves. The self is there. It just cannot be expressed. It cannot be LIVED.

Then there is the fundamental idea of becoming oneself. This expresses that Sister Catherine is “still” growing as a person. She is evolving. Maybe she is changing into something else. Maybe she is becoming more herself.

We often say things about people living with dementia like, “She is not herself anymore.” Or, “He is not the person I knew.” Yes. Maybe. But what about seeing a person for who they are now? What about being curious about who someone is becoming?

“I wish they would let us become who we are.”

This simple sentence speaks to a lack of acceptance of who Sister Catherine is. And yes, a suppression of who she is. “They” are not “letting” her be who she is. Why do “they” control this? Who do “they” want her to be? Who do “they” not want her to be? Is she “supposed to be” someone in a nursing home?

Why can’t she become who she is?

I feel it is important to point out that Sister Catherine, when asked what could be better, did not talk about the food, or the care. Or the indicators of quality of care and life that nursing homes are primarily judged by.

She instead talked about the fundamental, unchangeable need to be human.

What if the purpose of a nursing home, or a senior living community, was to support a person in becoming who they are?

I am serious.

What would this look like?

What would this not look like?

I don’t think it would look like anything we currently have.

When you look up the word “becoming” and its origins, here are some of its meanings:

To arrive

To come to be

To happen

How hopeful are these words?

In German, “becoming” derives from the word “bekommen”, which means to receive. When we receive things, there is a giver.

Nursing homes and senior living can be givers. Maybe they give opportunities for becoming, instead of taking.

Many thanks to Sister Imelda for her many inspirations to my thinking and for challenging us to think differently. She is indeed a facilitator of becoming. I hope that Sister Catherine keeps becoming who she is.