A Manayunk group helps aging Philadelphians fight loneliness and social isolation

The pandemic shed a light on loneliness, showing the nation what it feels like to be socially isolated.

“Suddenly, people saw how horrible it can be for older Americans, many of whom live by themselves,” said Marypat Tracy, executive director of SOWN, formerly the Supportive Older Women’s Network, based in Manayunk.

As the holiday season commences, SOWN staff and volunteers are striving to make sure that the nearly 600 people with whom they interact — 96% of them women — feel connected to someone.

“This can be a rough time,” Tracy said. “Many older people watch TV, and now they’re seeing holiday commercials with families gathering, with grandma and grandpa being welcomed into their kids’ homes.

“But so much of that can be unrealistic: Many can’t afford to travel, many aren’t necessarily close with their kids, and quite a few aren’t healthy enough to go anywhere.

“Americans are sold a bill of goods that you age into golden years, when life is wonderful. Well, that ain’t true for most folks.”

Tracy hastens to add that there’s a difference between loneliness and social isolation: One can feel the sadness of being lonely in the company of others; it’s a reaction to internal feelings. Social isolation is the absence of social interactions and contacts.

In battling loneliness and social isolation, the SOWN secret to helping older Philadelphians is older Philadelphians. Peer relationships — fostered by SOWN groups that meet in senior centers around the city, or in clusters on the phone — can be the keys to helping beat back loneliness.

“Peers provide one another the ongoing conversation about aging,” Tracy said. “They connect, and suddenly, they have all these sisters in their lives.”

In Philadelphia, there are around 318,000 people aged 60 and older, almost 308,000 of whom live in the community, outside of long-term care facilities, according to Allen Glicksman, a social gerontologist and researcher at NewCourtland. The nonprofit is an agency headquartered in Germantown that helps seniors find housing and health care.

Of the 308,000, more than 33% (about 103,000) live alone, Glicksman found. Around 58% (nearly 180,000) are women, many of whom have outlived their spouses.

Harriet Parker, 82, of Southwest Philadelphia, lost one husband to disease, another to divorce. Her daughter is grown with a child of her own, and Parker lives alone.

But, she says, she’s not lonely.

“I still feel the love and the warmth from my family when they lived with me in this house that I’ve lived in since 1953,” said Parker, who has worked as a school crossing guard and a salesperson at Strawbridge’s.

And out in the world, she has her very active friends.

“I meet with the SOWN ladies twice a week at Southwest Senior Center on Elmwood,” she said. “I also do line dancing, Zumba, Bible study.”

On Thursday, she was in a Thanksgiving-themed play at Star Harbor Senior Community Center nearby.

She also used to run in track meets in her 70s: “They would call me Flo-Jo [sprinter Florence Griffith Joyner],” she said. On one wild day, she set aside her walker and did a daring run on a zip line at the Salvation Army’s Camp Ladore in Waymart, Wayne County.

“I won’t do that again,” she said.

The key to her happiness, Parker said, is simple: “Be with people. Don’t give in to feeling old. And be happy. Enjoy life, because it’s short.”

Not everyone can get out like Parker. Many don’t move as well as they once did, or are suffering from debilitating illness, or face other challenges.

That doesn’t mean they’re not in community, however.

Alexzandra Gentsch, a volunteer with SOWN, runs one of the nonprofit’s telephone support groups, connecting women to women for an hour once a week.

“For me, I’m impressed by how lighthearted the conversations are,” said Gentsch, 38, who works as a health-care researcher, and has a master’s degree in social work. “There’s never been a session without a funny joke — always in good taste.”

One day, Gentsch asked the six women normally on her call how they’d met their significant others. “All the women are single from death or divorce,” Gentsch said. “They each said they didn’t remember. Then they all burst out laughing. They thought that was hilarious.”

Often, the women talk current events: The submersible vessel that went missing in June near the wreck of the Titanic. COVID-19 vaccinations. Affirmative action.

It’s not uncommon for a member of the group to discuss the effects of aging, the way time changes a body.

Most of the women haven’t met each other, or Gentsch. “We’re all too spread out over the city,” she said. But several will talk by phone beyond the scheduled weekly hour, checking in frequently, and growing closer, noted Lori Lattimer, SOWN’s director of programs.

While numerous programs around the city strive to fight social isolation among older Philadelphians, SOWN “appears to be unique,” according to Glicksman. Its blend of in-person meetings in centers and regularly scheduled support phone calls “is a very special model,” he said.

Also, SOWN’s phone interactions are facilitated by old-fashioned landlines, not smart phones or Zoom calls, which can be difficult for older adults to manage, Lattimer said.

Ultimately, the women benefit because their talks cut at least a bit into the isolation many older people feel. One of the women talks regularly about loneliness. The others always listen with understanding and empathy, Gentsch said.

“The ladies will always tell the one who says she’s lonely, ‘Don’t forget. We are all here for you.’”