The Construction of Personhood Among The Aged: A Comparative Study
of Aging in Israel and England
by Haim Hazan
The Problem
The problem faced by anthropologists in dealing with the aging
self is how to identify the characteristics of that self within a
social context which by nature does not inform such identification.
Whether researchers are mindful of this difficulty or not, the
practical solutions offered in the literature are socially telling
and intellectually intriguing, for they reflect common attitudes
toward the aged as well as mirror the analytic perplexity embedded
in the whole subject of aging.
Two diametrically opposite of models for handling the problem
could be identified. One is based on the view that the life of
elderly people is best understood in terms of their immediate
environmental constraints and the exigencies of their functional-
economic and social conditions-all of which are unfolded in the
form of "adjustment" problems. The other model recognizes the
boundaries of the self as extending beyond the present and hence
furnishing the conception of the self with content and meaning
stemming from past identities and lifelong cumulative experience.
In neither case is the process of continuous construction of self
vis-a-vis existing interactional and symbolic contexts thrown into
relief. Rather, in both approaches the self is viewed through its
sociocultural resources rather than via the structure of
relationships responsible for its constitution as a pragmatic
response to an overall social arena.
This raises a host of important theoretical and methodological
issues, some of which will be addressed at a later stage. For the
purpose of this introduction, however, suffice it to state that
unlike recent trends in sociocultural research, which put a premium
on autobiographical narrative as a major source of ethnographic
data about the self, the conception guiding this discussion draws
mostly on situational-contextual analysis as a basis for
establishing a perceived profile of the aged self. This is not to
say that matters of life history and its interpretation are to be
overlooked, but it does suggest that the independent set of
variables for explaining the emergence of the construction of the
aged self in question will hinge on the structural arguments rather
than biographically slanted discourses.
The two case studies I will present, of a residential home and
a day center are interrelated primarily by virtue of the concept
under study, the self. While, the two groups studied have some
limited cultural commonalities the link between them is not to be
sought in similarities of content or meaning, nor in shared
cultural universals. It is my assumption that the discovery of the
aging self in its manifestation within the context and structure of
the varied realities under consideration provides the rationale for
juxtaposing the two ethnographic descriptions in this chapter.
Having said that context and structure are at the core of our
search for the concept of selfhood among the aged, it is necessary
to stress that context and structure are not regarded as "given" or
"taken for granted" arenas where action and interaction take place
but are indeed viewed as the social product of behavioral patterns.
In other words, by locating the idea of selfhood within a
contextual-structural frame of reference, a host of cultural,
interactional, and biographical factors would be reflected and
identified.
This will be handled by addressing three sets of relevant
units of information regarding images and construction of selfhood.
The first consists of views and ideas concerning humanity,
individuality, and the moral order associated with "proper" and
desirable conduct. The second evinces emergent systems of
categorization and corresponding social relationships delineating
boundaries of the self, and the third describes some of the social
strategies of exclusion and inclusion employed in maintaining these
boundaries. This threefold account of the context wherein
conceptions of selfhood are generated, constructed, and sustained
constitutes the basis for the final section of this discussion,
whose main objective is to arrive at some tentative propositions
regarding the study of selfhood among the aged. In this analysis it
is suggested that three major analytic categories should be
considered as appropriate dimensions of the self. These are the
mental-both emotive and intellectual aspects-the sociocultural, and
the physiological. Evidently, all three are viewed merely as social
constructs and not as objectively ascertained variables.
The Home
The first setting to be discussed is an old age Home in
Israel.1 At the time of the research (1972/73) the institution
catered to 400 able-bodied residents. It was established and run by
the welfare agency of Israel's biggest trades union federation and
admission was based on being a union member or a member's parent.
However, the location of the Home at the midst of one of the most
desirable residential areas in Tel Aviv, and the modern facilities
with which it was equipped made demand for accommodation exceed
supply. For an applicant to be successful he or she had to display
not only mental alertness and functional independence but also to
enjoy the backing of some influential figure in the political arena
of the trade unions.
This last constraint contributed a great deal to molding the
character and the composition of the population of residents. Those
whose background and connections furnished them with a position of
power and influence within the Home usually upheld an
uncompromising socialist ideology combined with strong
nationalistic fervor. Having been deeply involved in the core of
Israel's nation-building epoch and ethos, some of those residents
became nationally famous living legends. This halo followed them to
the Home and was reflected in both their status among fellow
residents and their own behavior.
Thus articulation and fluency in the use of Hebrew were highly
esteemed as linguistic insignia of previous involvement in
political and educational scenes. Simple but tidy outfits were
regarded as signs of nonostentatious yet respectable appearance and
avoidance of jewelry and other means of bodily adornment was almost
universal among residents. The values of austere living in the
service of national and socialist goals were cherished as the
foundation and the justification for the existence of Israel as a
state and for the continuity of the Zionist enterprise. Some of the
residents whose past seemed to represent such personal sacrifice
and patriotic legacy set the indisputable principles for social
esteem and moral judgment in the Home.
This came into being by establishing a body of residents whose
explicit purpose was to debate various subjects of interest. These
discussions evolved into an arena for discussing the affairs of
other residents, the administration of the Home, and the desirable
code of practice of institutional life. Eventually, the discussion
group used outside connections in an attempt to influence the
manager and wrest from him the power to regulate the flow of
residents into and out of the institution. It was proposed that an
executive committee of residents-all of whom were members of the
discussion group-would be authorized to determine criteria for
admitting new residents and to set up a disciplinary court whose
jurisdiction would include decisions concerning the removal of
unwanted residents from the Home.
This last issue of conditions for transferring residents to
other institutions or back to their families was a crucial one for
a number of reasons. To begin with, adequate alternative care
facilities for the frail elderly at the time of the research were
scarce and, in any case, not within the financial reach of most
residents. The pressure of applicants-many of them backed by
influential connections-on the Home was enormous (3,000 on the
waiting list); hence the increasing vulnerability of residents
without outside support. In addition, cases of genuine inability to
perform as independent elderly people were in constant jeopardy of
having their secret malfunctioning exposed with all the impending
consequences incurred by such disclosure. The result was that
public display of personal competence and social vigor became not
only the order of the day among those whose future residence was at
stake but also an imperative which put a whole new, institutionally
conditioned, complexion on the concept of a person. We shall see
how the components of physical ability, mental agility, and social
capacity interplayed to delineate boundaries and to shape
relationships and behavior.
If the internal, though externally inspired, pyramid of
stratification is to be sketched, the following ladder would
emerge. At the top, occupying the revered position almost belonging
to a mythical sphere, were those residents whose life histories and
present association made them into the epitome of some of the most
commonly shared set of values in Israeli society--patriotism, self-
sacrifice, and socialism. Immune to removal and assured of future
provision, these people advocated the idea of "good functioning"
more than those residents who had cause for concern regarding their
capacity to maintain the image of competence.
Out of the three dimensions of selfhood--the mental, the
sociocultural and the physical--they gave priority to the latter,
setting it as the final yardstick for an ascription of human
qualities and thus for participation in the Home. Evidently, their
social capacity was beyond dispute. Having been the stalwarts of
Israeli society at large and of particular institutions in it, and
being organized into a hierarchically ordered, well-disciplined
group within the Home, each was dependent upon the collectivity.
Their mental alertness was also beyond doubt, since it was
constantly displayed in the form of linguistic articulation,
heightened awareness of current affairs, and considerable reading.
It was all thrown into relief in the course of the discussions
where great importance was attached to being fluent, clear, and
well informed. The debate procedures were made to safeguard these
qualities through rigid agenda, orderly discussion, and lucid
presentation.
However, the somatic element of personhood put members of the
group on an equal footing with other elderly people and thus
endangered the other two dimensions of a seemingly immutable
existence. Three social contexts bear on the significance and the
extent of the physical image of personhood as embedded in the
notion of being old, incapacitated, and unworthy.
The Disciplinary Court
The first was the attempt to remove from the institution all
disabled residents through the already mentioned disciplinary
court. Although this claim for power was aborted by due agreement
among residents goaded by fear of the proposed "court" abusing its
authority in internal disputes, there was a broad consensus among
members of the group about its main objective: removing physically
unsuitable residents from the Home.
This position was explicitly formulated in a series of
discussions concerning the desirable mode of institutional care for
the aged. Out of the various proposed structures of care facilities
on the agenda, one was unequivocally and unanimously favored, that
of a functionally homogeneous residential population. The arguments
made in support of that view were numerous, the most prominent
being the need to avoid any visible reminder of the impending
deterioration incurred by old age.
In a group reputed for its extensive intellectual activities
and whose social image was one of solidity and viability, it was
unexpected to witness the prevalence of the physiological criterion
expressed not only in assertions regarding other residents but also
reflexively. The outside world--that of nationwide admiration and
almost sanctification--was often described in terms of its negative
reaction to the appearance and physical faculty of members of the
group. Thus, a member whose educational stature was much revered in
the country told tearfully how a teenaged youth maliciously and
scornfully tripped him over, causing him to fall and calling him
"an old man."
Consistency in the categorization of the old into the
physically fit and the physically unfit was accomplished and
affirmed by applying this dichotomy to members of the group. Thus,
a woman member who confessed that she lost control of her bowels
while suffering from a stomach complaint was scoffingly laughed at
and was made to leave the group for good. Other members expressed
their wish to avert such disgrace and indignity by urging their
coresidents to make plans for their removal from the Home in case
of physical incapacitation, even against their own will.
Furthermore, if such eventuality should arise, any form of loyalty
or solidarity which could shield, albeit temporarily, the
handicapped resident ought to be dissolved. This unmitigated
position is rendered even more forceful in view of the fact that
the privileged status of members of this group in the Home was a
secure safeguard against any possibility of administrative decision
taken to their detriment.
Other residents, however, were vulnerable to measures
affecting their living conditions in the Home ranging from transfer
to another institution to the imposition of an unwanted roommate.
Here physical adequacy was not sufficient to guarantee continued
residence. Obvious evidence of social involvement and mental
capabilities was expected to demonstrate to the management of the
Home that the resident in question is "functioning" to the extent
of extending his or her sojourn.
This challenge was met variously by different residents. One
noted made of reaction was the formation of groups of residents
whose joint resources created a basis for negotiating terms with
the administrative authorities of the Home. Those who engaged in
such efforts relied on their collective presentation rather than on
individual achievements. Thus interdependency centered around
common interest or in pursuit of a set objective was not just a
manifestation of sociability and communication but a means of
survival and an invaluable resource in its own right. Furthermore,
such social formations, by the structure of their members'
interaction and through their activities, generated boundaries and
images of personhood based on group distinctions.
Handicrafts Group
Attesting to these generalized principles was, among other
clusters of activities, the handicraft group. This group was the
result of the initiative of a few women residents whose main
objective in setting it up was to provide a stage for displaying
good "functioning." The manager of the Home, having realized the
potentialities of this enterprise for advancing some of his
projects--particularly in promoting the institution's public image-
-offered extensive resources in aid of the operation of the group.
Thus, sewing machines, materials, and paid instructors were
provided to enhance and intensify the activities. Other residents
who were aware of the manager's interest in the group joined in the
activities in pursuit of recognition as well-functioning
participants.
Indeed, not only did the recruits perfect a front of
accomplished residents, but they also gained a host of benefits and
privileges bestowed by the management of those favored by it.
Hence, belonging to the group became a self-perpetuating engagement
reinforced by constant rewards. Within the sponsored cohesiveness
of the group there emerged social markers to define the position of
members vis-a-vis other residents.
Being occupied was, for a member of the group, more than a
mere badge of acceptable functioning or even an active behavior
defying the passive image attributed to old age. It was, in the
main, a way of relating to the elite echelon of the Home, whose
reputed socialist doctrines and dedication to a public cause were
deemed to be faintly emulated in the mode of operation evolved in
the handicraft group. Work was regarded as an ultimate value,
sharing and equality were cherished as ideal forms of interaction,
mutual care was advocated as a prime objective of the relationships
within the group, and acting in the service of a collective goal
was set as the main target of the activities.
All these characteristics were embedded in the daily meetings
of the group. Incessant sewing, knitting, embroidery and weaving
constituted the major areas of work activity. The products--baby
clothes, soft toys, crochet, decorations and light repairs--were
prepared for sale in a grand bazaar annually held at the Home to
raise funds for the Soldiers' Welfare Association. The amount of
proceeds was considered an indication of the group's success.
Furthermore, the event was attended by officials and dignitaries
whose presence at the bazaar signified social recognition and
endorsed the group's endeavor as a contribution to the public.
Thus, the production activities combined with the distribution
proceeding, embodied values of work, nonprofit, charity, and
involvement in a national enterprise. The implication of this for
the perceived internal stratification in the Home was asserted by
a founding member of the group: We are all hardworking people who
did not have the chance to prove our dedication to the country and
its ideals before we entered the Home. Now we have been given this
opportunity, and for this we ought to be thankful to the discussion
group and its members. Naturally, we are far from the standards
they set, but we try our hardest to follow their example.
Under the aegis of that sheltered arena, a number of
handicapped residents found welcoming sanctuary. These were
residents whose functioning capacity was in doubt due to physical
or mental disability. Yet by virtue of their faithful participation
in the group they enjoyed an identification with the most turbulent
display ground for active functioning in the Home. The other
members, mindful of the real purpose behind this type of
participation, treated these joiners as equals, especially during
encounters with the management. Hence, group membership provided a
protective social cover under which both the able and the disabled
could secure continued care and immunize themselves against the
consequences of pejorative personal change. Social participation
was infused with equivocal meanings spanning the whole gamut of
existence in the Home--from the survival prospects in the
institutions through the internal status system to the broad
cultural arena.
If the physical personhood dominated the activities of the
discussion group and social personhood prevailed over the operation
of the handicraft group, the mental sphere pervaded the actions of
some of the most vulnerable residents whose locus of assembly was
the institution's synagogue.
Synagogue Study Group
Religious persuasion and practices were much disdained and
almost unanimously maligned in the Home. Rooted in an atheist
socialist stance and anchored in the long-established political
schism in Israel between religious and nonreligious parties,
veteran trade unionists expressed little sympathy for anything
remotely associated with religiosity. Moreover, coming from a
nonsocialist background, most residents who participated in the
activities of the local synagogue did not enjoy the shield of
previous connections. Unable to associate themselves with the
institutional elite and snubbed at other group activities, the
synagogue participants could only construct their conception of
personhood on resources other than physical and social. They
resorted to some of the religious practices in Judaism which most
practically and ritually suggested a high degree of mental
alertness.
These practices were the assiduous study of religious lore and
mores. Since such activities are often performed collectively in
specially designated, communal study forums, this tradition of
learning was adopted to justify the formation of a multitude of
study groups attended by most members and led by hired tutors.
Close observation of members' behavior in the course of such
gatherings revealed that, far from following the arduous and mind-
boggling lessons, the students were preoccupied in a host of
extracurricular activities such as humming, gazing at a fixed spot,
chatting, and browsing through other chapters. Having no student
feedback whatsoever, the instructors would proceed unabated,
getting through an outstanding amount of Talmudic material.
Provisions were made by the members to disseminate knowledge
of their activities in the Home and particularly to make the
management cognizant of their learning capacity. The manager was
often invited to witness the study groups, and his help was sought
to enhance the scope of the lessons. In conversations, members took
great pride in their participation, never failing to stress the
implications of this activity for certifying their mental
abilities.
To bolster the image of mental agility and grasp of reality,
the members developed an explicitly resentful attitude toward those
residents whose behavior suggested disorientation and mental
incapacity. Thus during the High Holy Days--the New Year festival
and the Day of Atonement--when the majority of residents attend
synagogue, the seemingly confused among them were forcibly denied
access to the synagogue. This was done by blocking the gangway or
by pushing them back to the elevators from which they emerged. It
is interesting to note that these residents, negligible minority
though they were, featured prominently in the self-definition of
the other two groups. They were labeled "exhibition" by members of the discussion group, no
doubt in line with the physical criteria applied by them, and
"vegetables" or "animals" by members of the handicraft group in
accordance with their social yardstick. The former represented the
ultimate in physical ossification and inertia, while the latter
referred to imputed lack of human communication and relationships.
In effect this category served as an appropriate barrier between
being a person and a nonperson for all the other residents. Having
forfeited their attributes as homo physical, homo social and homo
mental in the respective eyes of members of the discussion group,
the handicraft group, and the congregants of the synagogue, that
category was made into a symbolic vehicle through which the three
differently based identities could be forged.
The Day Centre2*
While external and internal boundaries in the old age Home
were contingent on isolating physical, social, and mental
properties to generate referential frames of a "person," the
members of the day Centre in the following case study eliminated
all these to allow for a nascent idea of self or, as will be
explicated later, a "selfless" self to emerge.
The day care Center catered to elderly Jewish residents of the
London borough of Hackney. It was administered by the biggest
Jewish charity in England, the Jewish Welfare Board, and registered
a total of 400 participants with a daily attendance of 150. The
services provided by the Centre's staff--a team of two qualified
social workers and eight other workers in various capacities--
included hot lunches, tea, occupational therapy, transport
arrangements, and some welfare care. Recruitment was on a broad
ground of needs ranging from destitution and loneliness to a
general "inability to cope." The population served covered a wide
age spectrum from the late forties to early nineties. Daily routine
was leniently regulated by staff with ample scope for members'
initiative. Indeed, most activities unconnected with the financial
running of the Centre were taken up by participants. Thus cooking
and serving meals, tea making, light entertainment, and
recreational pastimes were all organized and conducted by members.
Most members shared a common background of similar life
histories. As a first or second-generation Eastern European Jewish
emigrants to Britain, they experienced childhoods of poverty,
unemployment, heavy reliance on extended families, and welfare
assistance from the Jewish Welfare Board. Adulthood was
characterized by unskilled or semiskilled, low-income occupations
and by bringing up children of their own who, due to their parents'
massive investment in their education, became professionals of a
much higher socioeconomic status. Old age was typified by
insufficient means, poor housing, malnutrition, and increased
dependency. Added to that was almost invariably a disengaged and
reluctant family, alienated Jewish establishment, run-down
neighborhood with a high crime rate, and a paucity of community
institutions.
This common socioeconomic background with its shared cultural
heritage and similar existential and living conditions made for a
nondifferentiated environment where past could not be used as a
valuable resource and future prospects held no hope in store. The
social structure created in the Centre reflected this state of
affairs but was also a reaction to some of the main scourges
encountered by the participants. Its constitution reinforced
egalitarian behavior and disassociation from previous affiliations,
disregarded physical differences and functional disability, and put
participants of different mental capacities on an equal footing. To
understand how this was accomplished, it is necessary to describe
the main principles upon which relationships in the Centre were
based.
Participants, with outstanding unanimity and without any form
of external guidance, expressed and practiced a set of values of
which the core symbol and the main uniting theme was the idea of
unbounded care and unconditional help. This was not an ideology
advocating mutual concern and reciprocal assistance. Rather the
notion of a noncumulative, nonmutual communal pool of available-to-
all resources was the most representative feature of this system.
Thus participants were expected to spare any resource at their
disposal--be it material possession, a piece of advice, a
comforting gesture, or some relevant information--to whomever was
in need of it. Inversely, those in need were entitled to lean on
such help regardless of past relationships, loyalties and
obligations. Even married couples attending the Centre were
pressured to stay apart and act with as little mutual
acknowledgment as possible.
This structure was unaffected by the high turnover of
participants, nor was it modified by changes in staff or services.
Furthermore, the nature of other activities held in the Centre
seemed to support and furnish its competitive games, and contests
were avoided by converting them into no-win "learning situations"
or laughing them off as "unreal." Patterns and designs of craftwork
were incessantly repeated, and renegade attempts of creativity and
ingenuity were suppressed through joking, derision, criticism, and,
in extreme cases, ostracism.
The combined effect of these properties on the social context
of Centre life resulted in lack of both hierarchical order and
recognizable power structure among members. Since care was regarded
as an absolute measure by which everybody and everything ought to
be valued, and as no limits were set on participants' potential
capacity to give and to receive, members found themselves in the
simultaneously two-pronged position of helper and helped. Thus
those who experienced a disproportion between need and contribution
would usually restore the balance by creating mock events when an
objectively unfounded plea for assistance was manufactured by a
participant. For example, a man who was fit enough to climb the
stairs pretended to have difficulties, inducing a prompt reaction
from a disabled member who rushed to his aid with alacrity.
The obliteration of differences and the demolition of
boundaries took various forms, of which the most persistent was the
erasure of the past. Occupational careers were a taboo subject
among participants, and so were familial associations and community
ties. Children were renounced as "traitors," and the lack of
contact and financial support from offspring who lived affluently
not far away from their parents were often adduced as evidence of
disregard and disengagement on the part of the former. The latter,
however, insisted that the breakdown in relationship was mutual and
that their interest in their children equalled the children's
concern with them. Contrary to common stereotypes, the past was not
imbued with nostalgia. Inversely, the hardship of childhood, the
injustices of adulthood, and the frustrations of aging were viewed
grimly as consequences of lack of economic opportunity, social
inequality, cultural deprivation, and "bad luck."
Nevertheless, the Centre offered open opportunities and
socioeconomic equality where physical, mental, and social
differences were abandoned, participants considered themselves as
agents of care and "humanity" rather than project-oriented beings
whose predetermined goals are contingent upon past resources and
future plans.
I shall restrict the rest of the discussion to the three
constituents of self-body, mind, and society as handled and
constructed by the Centre people.
Physically heterogenous as it was, the participants did not
adopt somatic yardsticks to erect social divisions. This was
particularly evident in those activities which apparently, by
definition, invoke differences in bodily ability. Noteworthy among
them was the most popular pastime in the Centre, dancing. Every
afternoon participants would gather in the dining hall and engage
in old-time dancing to the accompaniment of a record or a member
singer. No one was excluded, dancers aided by sticks and crutches,
rolling and roving wheelchairs, and stooped handicapped men and
women--all dancing out of time and irrespective of any rhythmical
discipline--were a common sight on such occasions.
Illnesses and disabilities, abundant though they were among
participants, were ignored as irrelevant to the experience of
"living the day" or dismissed as mere annoyances. Even terminal
conditions were publicly treated as belonging to another sphere of
existence. A man suffering from an incurable cancer of the throat
described himself as "always cheerful, no matter what. My throat
bothers me only as far as my speech is concerned. I want people to
understand what I say." When faced directly and explicitly in
discussion groups or interviews with the problem of terminal
conditions and physical deterioration, participants insisted on
their right to euthanasia or suicide. Some, having experienced
periods of institutionalization in old-age homes, geriatric wards,
or mental hospitals, depicted such a past as "another life," "a
state of vegetation," or "not being human". Leaving the Centre,
therefore, was conceived of as a departure to such alternative
modes of existence, and deaths occurring shortly after were
attributed to such leaves rather than to any other causes.
Although differences in physical ability were considered
irrelevant to participation in Centre life, an unavoidable cleavage
existed between the severely handicapped and the rest of the
members. This was due to the absence of an elevator to facilitate
mobility between the first and the second floors. In effect, the
ground floor was occupied mostly by disabled members far removed
from the bustling hub of activity above them. Yet this territorial
division was not recognized by members as a valid one, since the
example of a few handicapped participants who struggled valiantly
and successfully to make their way upstairs was invoked to
demonstrate both the extent of willpower and the effectiveness of
the care system.
Although as the notion of care was pervasive, deviant behavior
of a mental nature posed an intractable problem for participants.
Although accounts of Centre induced "recoveries" from a stroke or
getting out of depression were widespread among members, other
cases seemed to defy the idea of care as a panacea. Display in
public of offensive behavior, idiosyncratic characteristics, and
unsolicited allusions to the past and to death were viewed not only
as embarrassing and unpleasant, but also challenged the
fundamentals of the care system. A number of participants whose
presence in the Centre evoked strong reactions were compelled,
sometimes forcibly, to leave. Others, particularly those who were
themselves a product of the care system, called for handling within
and by means of the care principles. One example of such treatment
was Sid.
Sid was a manic-depressive who suffered a severe relapse
following a car crash involving his son. He arrived at the Centre
subdued, withdrawn, and completely unresponsive. Attended by his
wife, who acted as a volunteer in the Centre, he retired to a
corner and spent his days gazing blankly at the others. A sudden
mood swing reversed the whole situation. Sid entered into a state
of boundless elation and exhilaration, became extremely talkative,
and offered to help far beyond his capabilities. This
transformation was welcomed by participants as a response to their
incessant efforts and to the influence of the Centre atmosphere.
Sid was introduced to outsiders as the "great success," or
"miraculous recovery." These descriptions invariably were echoed by
Sid himself, who would reassure the listener that he felt fine and
that his only concern was to look after people who might have been
through similar emotional distress. In discussion groups and
informal gatherings, Sid always brought up the subject of helping
other participants and preached the teachings of the care system to
whomever was ready to listen.
Petty bickering and brawls with participants, coupled with
unfounded claims to power "officially" delegated to him by staff,
provided the first indications that Sid was diverging from the
expected path of participation and might even prove to be a menace,
particularly to the care system. In fact, occasional bouts of
depression and recurrent defiance made it virtually impossible to
handle Sid within the care system rules. The reaction among
participants was to convert Sid into the Centre jester--a figure to
be ridiculed, not to be taken seriously and yet to be integrated
into the light-hearted, joking atmosphere of the place. Thus,
everything Sid said, regardless of its logical merits and
contextual relevance, aroused laughter. His mere presence seemed to
provoke waves of gaiety, and his apparent cooperation in building
up this image contributed to establish this status. Gradually Sid
sank into a long spell of depression and withdrew completely from
Centre activities. Only then was he recognized by his fellow
participants as "mental", "sick," and "a psychiatric case."
This assumption of pseudo-psychiatric labels was apparently
borrowed from the extensively used psychologically laden
terminology employed by social workers. Yet being a "case" enabled
Sid to remain within the domain of the care system and rendered his
ascribed mental faculties acceptable, manageable, and inherently
reversible. Such incorporation was structurally contingent on total
segregation of the Centre reality from the outside world and on
phasing out internal divisions within it. It was the maintenance of
external boundaries and the lack of inner differentiations which
fostered the free flow of resources among participants and the
obliteration of somatic and mental factors as regulators of social
relationships.
The society of participants, therefore, developed mechanisms
through which differentiation processes were averted and threats
and challenges could be handled. An attempt by several participants
to form a "committee" to represent members' interests was aborted
by those who were supposed to benefit from its operation on the
ground that the self-nominated candidates were "power-mad" and
"status seekers." Disputes and conflicts between participants were
confined to short-term altercations taking the form of brief
outbursts after which relationship would go back to normal. Those
whose unsettling presence could not be contained were ostracized or
expelled. This was the fate, for example, of a participant who was
exposed as a beggar, thus subjecting his fellow members to shame,
questioning by his actions the validity and efficacy of the care
system. In another instance a woman who, despite incessant demands,
dwelt on her glorified past which stood in direct contradiction to
the others and in any event negated the present-bound egalitarian
ethos of the Centre's reality, also was forced to leave the Centre
for good.
Discussion
At first glance any attempt to ascertain some common ground
between these two examples might seem to be a futile exercise. The
materials and methods employed in the construction of a concept of
personhood appear almost diametrically opposite. The residents of
the Home drew heavily on past experiences and cultural continuity,
the Centre people endeavored to disengage themselves from their
memories and heritages. The Home's residents interrelated the
categories of body, mind, and society in a hierarchical fashion,
whereas the Centre's members fused them into a unitary immutable
collective entity. Internal boundaries were dimmed in the Centre,
highlighted in the Home. Conversely, the Centre presented itself as
an impervious environment while the Home was an extension of its
outside milieu. However, a more careful scrutiny of the data would
unveil a different comparative dimension. Beyond the unrelatedness
of the commitment to function and the idea of care, beyond the
highly stratified society of residents and the egalitarian near-
commune of participants, and beyond the differences in background
and the organizationally contrasting care facilities looms a core
of seemingly similar properties.
The idea of a "person" was built in both institutions on key
cultural concepts derived from a common past and infused with
nascent context-bound content and proportions. Thus neither
"functioning" nor "care" could be placed on an uninterrupted
continuum anchored in previous values, nor could they be regarded
as realization or fulfillment of lifelong experiences. Rather the
unreservedly caring person of the Centre3 as well as the
functioning actor at the Home arena were engaged in adapting
themselves to the exigencies of one existential dilemma. This was
the problem of uncontrollable deterioration and unarrested adverse
change associated with the aging process.
Erecting rigid boundaries based on physiological, social, or
mental categories in the Home and blurring these very three
categories in the Centre, although apparently contradictory
practices, serve the same ultimate objective--facing up to the
uncertainties embedded in the futureless, unpredictable world of
the inhabitants of either establishment. It would seem that the
very idea of continuity4 is defied by the lack of progress and the
loss of social time in old age. Hence the attempt to reconstruct a
concept of a person is induced and shaped by selecting and
organizing cognitive and social components in a manner amenable to
encounter such fundamental problems.
If values and life experiences are to be treated as
manipulable resources rather than deterministic impositions, the
two cases could illustrate the emergence of a context-bound
conception of personhood among the aged without the bind of
cultural presuppositions5 and psychological bias. The key
assumption for such an approach, however, must be that control of
meanings and identity is accomplished through addressing a major
existential predicament rather than through perfunctory reference
to one's life history.6 The process of "deculturation",7 while
divesting the personhood of aged of some of its symbolic
anchorage,8 makes for a reconstitution of cultural classifications
based on a newly acquired balance between the desirable and the
attainable.9 If, as Myerhoff (1978a) suggested in her analysis of
another Jewish day center, the aged are engaged in fighting their
social invisibility and in securing their symbolic survival, then
notions of continuity of personhood and preservation of identity
should be viewed through the prism of present context rather than
life course development.
_
Notes
1. For an overview of the Home, see Hazan (1980b).
2. For a detailed ethnography of the Centre, see Hazan (l980b).
3. It would seem that the existentialist perspective of "life
project" advocated by Sartre and applied to the study of
history by Langness and Frank (l981) is not attested to by the
case of the Centre people.
4. As Fontana (1976), McCulloch (1980), and many others observe,
the idea of continuity does not withstand the scrutiny of
extending into a dubious future. Some solution to this dilemma
is offered by Myerhoff (1978a), who suggests the presence of
a myth-like orientation among the people she studied.
5. Viewing personhood as generated by culture (Geertz 1979) is an
approach adopted by many anthropologists to the study of aged
self. See, for example, Plath (1980), Bateson (1950), Myerhoff
(1978b), and Henry (1963:391-474).
6. A similar approach emphasizing interaction rather than culture
is proposed by Gubrium (1975) and Gubruim and Buckholdt
(1977).
7. This is a concept proposed by Anderson (1972), whose study
with Clark on older Americans (Clark and Anderson 1967) points
to the gap between culture and the aged self.
8. For an analysis of some social complications of the growing
incongruity between symbolic messages and the self conception
of the aged, see Teski (1979, 1987).
9. Some indication to this line of argument could be found in
Tornstam (1982) and is reflected in the works of Rosenmayr
(1981) and Thomas (1970).
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