These candid photos capture how seniors are growing communities—while growing older—on the south side

From Auburn Gresham to Hyde Park, seniors and their allies are doing whatever it takes to combat social isolation and other issues of aging.

By Pat Nabong

Older adults line dance at Mather's More than a Cafe in Chatham. The cafe, which caters to older adults but is open to all ages, serves affordable, healthy food and pay-as-you-go fitness classes (Photo: Pat Nabong).

Older adults in their 70s and 80s gather in the lobby of New Pisgah Haven Homes every Thursday morning. The low-income senior building in Auburn Gresham provides a necessary service, run by residents for residents: a communal trip to the grocery store.

On a sunny day in June, four of these older adults sit on the couch chatting while waiting for others to join them, and after 20 minutes, they board a small white vehicle that resembles a school bus.

Carlton Brown, 72, is the volunteer designated driver this morning. He lets his crutch lean on the railing. His neighbors sit in the back with their walkers and collapsible grocery carts. Some days, Brown takes them in his car and they go to the doctor's office. Sometimes he drives them to restaurants and shopping malls. Other times, Brown visits people in the building who can't get out of their apartments. When Brown doesn't need to shop for food at the grocery store himself, he keeps an eye on his neighbors as they scan the aisles.

"Some peoples can't get out to do what they need to do. Some don't have the means to get there," said Brown, who's been living at New Pisgah Haven Homes for 11 years. He anticipates that one day he may need help too, in the same way that he helps his neighbors. "Right now I don't [need assistance], so I make myself useful while I can. . . . If you live in a building like this, it's what they call a congregation, a peoples that are around together, and you have to learn how to live that way."

Yoga teacher Tony Stevens, who lives in Calumet Heights, used to serve as a caregiver for several people in his family who were sick. Now, he is committed to living a healthy lifestyle.

Older adults attend a free yoga class taught by Tony Stevens in the senior satellite in Abbott Park in Roseland.

Older adults attend a free yoga class taught by Tony Stevens in the senior satellite in Abbott Park in Roseland.

Betty Griffin, 77, poses for a portrait. To her, aging on the South Side has been “a very positive thing.” Griffin, who has lived in Morgan Park since 1969, loves yoga. “We tend to limit ourselves once we get at a certain age group or something. I hear ‘I’m old, I can’t do that. I can’t.’ So I’ve never said anything like that. As a matter of fact, it opened up more avenues of what I realized I could do.”

On Father’s Day, Carlton Brown, 72, waits for a table while his 13-year-old daughter has her eyes glued to her phone. “It is challenging to keep up with technology and the changing system,” said Brown. Often, he feels like he is “on the outside looking in.” “We don’t quite understand the system that they have today and most of us get left out of the things that we qualify for because we don’t know and that’s a big issue [in the] medical field,” he said.

Carlton Brown, 72, drops off his neighbors at a grocery store in Oak Lawn. I was raised to help people that I can help and that’s why I do what I do around here,” said Brown, who drives residents of the Auburn Gresham senior building they live in where they need to go. “One day I’m probably gonna need the same thing but right now I don’t, so I make myself useful while I can.”

Carlton Brown, 72, who is diabetic, had to have one of his toes removed. To Brown, keeping up with the changing system and insurance policies are some of the biggest challenges as an older adult. He did not know that his insurance only covered six referrals. “When those six referrals ran out, they won’t see me again unless I pay a hundred dollars…I know what to do now, but today I’m up in my 70’s and I’m just learning this and the way I learned it was by having a toe removed.”

Joe Boyd, 82, gets some sunshine outside the senior building he lives in in Auburn Gresham. “A lot of times as you get older, [people] leave you, you know what I mean? One by one,” said Boyd, a veteran who often reflects on his life. “I’ve been ups and downs, around and around…I cry a lot and it’s because of happiness and joy.”

Marcia Cozzi, center, stretches with other members of the Chicago Hyde Park Village during their bi-monthly drop-in where seniors can exercise and interact with other community members over lunch. The village was formed to help members remain active and involved in their community.

Susan Alitto, one of the founding members of the Chicago Hyde Park Village, an organization that aims to keep older adults involved in the community and battle loneliness.

The view from Darnetta Donegan’s apartment in a low-income senior building in Washington Park.

“I don’t wanna get old,” said Darnetta Donegan, 69, who lives alone in a senior building in Washington Park. “When I see someone my age and they’re getting around worse than I am, you know they’re in a wheel chair or broken up really bad or mentally gone, that’s when you think about it and feel bad about it…I used to take care of people that had all kinds of disorders, but now I’m living here with it…After a while it gets a little depressing. I stay in prayer quite a bit.”

Della Freeman, 91, lives alone in a senior building in Auburn Gresham. “I always like to do things for myself,” said Freeman, who declined when she was offered a free homemaker to help her with chores. “I do all of my cleaning, cooking, and going around like that for myself…That’s exercise for me,” said Freeman. She wears a device that she can press whenever she has an emergency. It sends an alert to staff in the building.

Ruthie Doss, 72, has retinal degeneration and occasionally loses her visions temporarily. Doss enjoys living in a senior building in Washington Park, but she is concerned about the neighborhood. “Even though fast food is not good for us, we should have something that we can just [walk] a block or half a block to…We have to travel a certain distance to get to everything.” Doss also talked about crime. “I like to walk and now I got to be careful. I can’t go out and walk like I want to…I’m a person that’s not afraid though.”

Dianne Hodges, 69, shops at the Whole Foods in South Loop. Hodges, who lives in South Shore, said there are not enough resources in her neighborhood that keep older adults healthy. “I never shopped in the community anyway because they had a Dominick’s here for years and I never really shopped [there] because [it] was so different from the North Side…but I understood why it was different because it’s not, they would try to bring in organic vegetables and things like that and they would just rot because the people were not, you know, were not buying them.” Hodges, who teaches meditation and belly dancing, had a mini stroke and since then, she has “had to work to reverse some things that would have caused me to be like most elders in my age group” through a healthy diet and lifestyle.

Becky Clark, service coordinator of New Pisgah Haven Homes in Auburn Gresham, serves food during the senior building’s Father’s Day Cookout. “They kids, they’re all busy. Every now and then you see them and then you don’t,” said Carlton Brown, 72. Because of this, many residents look to Clark for support. “[Becky] did a lot for me and the people here,” said Joe Boyd, 82. Brown wishes there were more people like her who can explain “all the ins and outs of being a senior,” like healthcare.

Eva Early, 73, lives alone in a senior building in Auburn Gresham. A framed photo of her granddaughter and late son are displayed prominently on her living room’s center table. The frames normally face the couch. “they here with me so I could watch them and they watch me,” said Early who said she is happy and content with her life even though she does not see her granddaughter often. “I talk to them…I just look at the picture sometimes and I do, you know, wish he was here and then I look over there and say, there you are, you know. Hey granddaughter, you know…I know that if he was in here, he’d be seeing ‘bout his momma, you know. That’s it. That’s what makes me serious, kinda old and sometimes lonesome. He’s not here.”

Residents of the New Pisgah Haven Home, a senior building in Auburn Gresham, eat together during the Father’s Day Cookout—just one of the building’s weekly events that keep older adults busy. “A lot of people think when you come to a place like this, you come in here to die…But that’s not why I come here,” said Carlton Brown, 72, who has been living in the building for about 11 years now. “If you live a building like this, it’s what they call a congregation, a peoples that are around together.”

Barnetta Willard, 79, lives in a low-income senior building in Washington park. “I told my son he can’t put me in a nursing home…Being independent is very necessary…Things are happening that try to help make sure that we stay independent. I guess the only drawbacks is that in our culture, seniors pretty much have to take care of themselves. Like in [Asian] culture, the grandma and grandpa lives with somebody in the family…As African-Americans when people start aging, the family goes, the kids go off and do their thing, you know, and unless there’s a real serious illness, mom and dad take care of themselves.”

A portrait of Joseph Hardy, 69, who used to live in a house with his sister, where he often heard sirens and saw people loitering. “As a senior, I can’t deal with that and you know seniors are more prone to be held up or killed.” Now, he lives alone in a senior building in Washington Park, which he said is a “pretty decent neighborhood.” He is still cautious and is part of the Telephone Tree program, which involves older adults who spend a lot of time at home and look out their window. When they see something suspicious, they call one another and all call the police. “The more calls to the police department, they will respond…if you have on for two calls going to them, they’re not going to respond,” said Hardy.

Yvette Gresham, 59, has been Lillie Smith’s homemaker for about four years now and they think of each other as extended family. Sometimes, people mistake them for mother and daughter. Having a homemaker makes life easier for Smith and makes her feel more comfortable going outside. “I used to walk out here and get the bus, but now I’m afraid to walk out,” said Smith who lives in Auburn Gresham. “There’s too much happening. They grabbing old people, throwing them down…and so now, I don’t go out there [alone]…She go with me.”

Yvette Gresham, 59, helps Lillie Smith get ready. For the past four years, Gresham has been Smith’s homemaker. She is paid by the City. Smith qualified for a homemaker after a heart surgery. “I don’t know if [some seniors] got help because I see them sometimes and I wonder, do they have anybody?” said Smith, who considers Gresham her extended family. “I know the government will provide because my help here comes through an agency…And I wonder why do they have to be out there alone by themself.”

Jerry Gripshover and Sam Guard leave a tip at Piccolo Mondo in Hyde Park. Gripshover and Guard are part of a men’s group composed of Hyde Park residents that meet at least twice a month to socialize. Social isolation among older adults is one of their biggest concerns.

Antonio Sanders, a member of the Senior Clown Troupe, dances with older adults during the Englewood Exclusively Us Senior’s Day Celebration. Sanders and the Senior Clown Troupe performs for older adults in nursing homes and retirement centers. “Clowning means to me being fun, keeping positive feeling, making someone that is sad, make them happy. Talk about positive things when they talk about sad things, so you make a sad situation to a positive situation. I really love that because it’s my whole life and I grew up clowning,” said Sanders, who started clowning when he was 17 years old and worked for the Ringling Brothers and Barnum Bailey Circus for a year and a half. As he grows older, clowning has become a more important part of his life. “Clowning is not always being in the circus all the time. It’s everyday life.”

Rashid C., 72, used to live in a senior building at 42nd and Cottage Grove, which according to him, was infested with rats, bed bugs and cockroaches. Now he lives in Washington Park, a few blocks away from where he was born. He says the neighborhood changed a lot during his lifetime. “They didn’t have this many vacant lots and stuff. All these were buildings and different stores. The [money’s] going right out the community whereas before they had a black store, a black shoe shine shop, a black cleaners, a black everything but now all these other nationalities own businesses in our communities…it’s really the government’s fault that we’re in the situation we’re in as black people, really. They don’t really reach out to the black community. I mean, we got food deserts around here. I’m fortunate to have a car but if you don’t have a car, I don’t know where you would go shopping here.” Rashid, who is a former drug user and spent his life “in and out of prison,” maintains a healthy lifestyle and plant-based diet. He said he had a “spiritual awakening” when he overdosed and someone found him passed out in the middle of the street.

To Alicia McCarthy, 64, commuting on the South Side is challenging as an older adult. I have at least three buses to catch to get to some very important places and it’s quite a bit of walking in between bus stops because they don’t make good connection all the time,” said McCarthy. She almost got hit by cars several times, she said. “We need to do something about these RTA officials downtown who don’t never catch any buses…They’re living in a vacuum by themselves.”

For many older adults who live alone on the south side, being part of a community, remaining active, and having people to rely on are not just important—they're necessary to their everyday needs and their overall health and well-being. Access to health care on the south side looks starkly different from that of other areas in Chicago. According to the University of Chicago, it's one of the most medically underserved communities in the U.S. Lack of access to health care is particularly magnified among the elderly.

"Isolation is more than just being alone. It's being at risk," said Debra Thompson, chairperson of Age Friendly Englewood Village, a nonprofit that visits isolated seniors, organizes porch parties for them, and helps them with everyday tasks. "We have to get out and socialize with people. That's why we send our kids to day care for socialization," she added. "It don't only take a village to raise a kid. It takes a village to raise a senior."

But not all older adults have people they can rely on, or the ability to participate in activities. Social isolation is a common concern among older adults on the south side, said Dr. Katherine Thompson, program director for the South Side Healthy Aging Resource Experts (SHARE) Network and a geriatrician at the University of Chicago's Outpatient Senior Health Center in South Shore. Studies show this goes beyond loneliness—social isolation among older adults can be linked to depression, diabetes, hypertension, arthritis, and coronary disease, among others, according to a report from the American Association of Retired Persons.

"The people who age well have some kind of purpose in their lives or something that brings them meaning, and they tend to be people who have been able to stay active," said Thompson.

Many older adults who live alone find that sense of belonging in their neighbors, their home-care workers, or their yoga classmates. Some find it at the local senior center, at church, or even in line dancing class. Many say that being involved in different activities has made them happier and healthier.

Eva Early, 73, who lives alone in the same Auburn Gresham building as Brown, said she was reluctant to move out of her apartment in Englewood and into a senior building. But she's come to enjoy weekly activities like Hawaiian luau-themed cookouts, field trips to museums and gardens, and health-related discussions. Early said she seldom sees her family these days, but when she gets bored or lonely, she goes to the building's common room to talk to other residents, who have become a second family to her.

"It's like a little community, and I like that. They look out for you. We don't see you for a while, [we] check up on you," she said. "This is home. This is where I was supposed to be." 

This report was produced in partnership with the Chicago Reader.

Future TV and Radio Stars at Tilden H.S. Credit Media Program, Mentorship

Tilden Career Community Academy’s Michael Finney founded Tilden TV and Radio six years ago to help his students think creatively and become more confident with their communication skills. Photo: Pat Nabong

By Amanda Tugade

When Michael Finney was making rap videos with his friends in the ’90s, he remembers filming his friends jumping over fences or setting garbage cans on fire just to get some footage.

“We were learning the game. Nobody was telling it to us,” says Finney, who now works at Tilden Career Community Academy, where he forges partnerships between the school and local organizations as a “community connector.” But after the bell rings, his office becomes a home base for a program that draws from his experience as a young rapper: Tilden TV and Radio.

It began with lessons on public speaking six years ago. Finney could see his students had interest in creative arts but no outlet; the school offered sports teams but few artistic extracurricular activities. “They were interested in possibly dancing or being on TV or heard on the radio,” Finney explains. “I had to fit the different aspects of what the students were interested in and make the program fit them.”

So, he hosted mock debates, assigned students to make school announcements, and gave them cameras to try out photography. On some days, his space transforms into a recording studio for young artists; on others, it becomes a small venue where students debut their songs, poetry and choreography.

Though Finney never received formal training in the field (he uses Google and YouTube tutorials as reference), he takes students to visit local radio stations and area colleges with media programs to show them how to turn their hobbies into potential careers.

For young musicians like senior Christopher Cox, it’s the mentorship and the exposure that make a difference. Finney brought Cox and his classmate, fellow aspiring rapper Shareef Peoples, to perform at an event at the KLEO Community Family Life Center last year. It was a “big accomplishment,” says Cox, because it was his first time getting positive feedback from an audience outside of his friends.

Shareef Peoples, a member of Tilden TV and Radio, performs his rap songs in front of his peers inside Finney’s classroom. Photo: Pat Nabong

Both Cox and Peoples look to Finney as a brother and father figure. “Coming to Tilden TV and Radio made me the best person. I am so happy that I am the person I am now,” Peoples, 19, said. “If it weren’t for Tilden TV and Radio and me getting my anger out in my music, I probably would’ve been dead or in jail.”

Other students like Lexii Brown and Katrina Knight thought back to when Finney supported them when they lost members of their family.

“He didn’t try and force his way into our personal lives,” Brown, 18, said. “He was just there to help us through it – anything.”

Finney said it’s easy to relate to his students—he, too, grew up on the South Side, and he knew what it was like to be a teenager and to want to act “tough.” He was the son of a Chicago police officer, but that didn’t stop him from getting into trouble.

“Inside of my household, it was very nourishing, very healthy, very structured. Every Saturday, I had to read the atlas, dictionary, encyclopedia, just to go outside,” he said. “But on the other side of that threshold, there’s this thing called West Englewood, and it’s a lot different from your front door. There [are] some things I got involved in when I was younger, not because I had to – simply by choice.”

 He often brings the conversation back to that word: “choice.” As he tells students, while life changes can be unexpected and unavoidable, it’s up to them how they move forward.

“They have a lot going on,” Finney said. “Sometimes, they come in this door and can’t focus on what we roll out every day. … They may have family issues like domestic violence that they had to deal with at 5 or 6 in the morning and still come to school and be here at 8.”

His advice, presence and open-door policy do not go unappreciated.

“If you want to talk, [he’s] here. If you don’t, [he’s] still here,” Cox said. “He’s going to have his door wide open. He’s going to see you when you come down here. That door’s open, and you’re welcome.”

This report was produced in partnership with the Chicago Defender.