Increasing Understanding And The Care Partner Relationship Through Hands-On Learning

Austrian psychologist Alfred Adler wrote that empathy is “seeing with the eyes of another, listening with the ears of another, and feeling with the heart of another.”

How does one see with the eyes of an older adult living with glaucoma? Listen with the ears of an older adult living with hearing loss? Feel with the heart of an older adult fearing the loss of their independence?

You can start with some goggles, ear plus, and Vaseline.

The Empathy Experience in Action

My “Empathy Experience”, hosted by the CLC Mentors, was an eye-opener. To help us feel the limitations older adults living with arthritis might face, the mentors taped popsicle sticks to the fingers of the attendees, limiting our ability to bend our fingers. We strapped on goggles that were either smeared with Vaseline to mimic the blurriness of vision loss or had paper taped to the center to force us to look out of the periphery of our eyes to see. Beans in our shoes simulated neuropathy in our feet, and earplugs limited our ability to hear what those around us were saying.

Ready to see through the eyes of another and listen to the ears of another, we went about completing normal daily tasks – writing letters, opening juice, washing our face. Except suddenly, those tasks didn’t feel so normal at all.

When Everyday Tasks Stop Feeling Everyday

I wrote a letter to my niece, but my fingers wouldn’t bend. I tried holding the pen in the crook of my hand, between my stiff index finger and thumb. It took a long time to write, and the handwriting looked so different that I couldn’t recognize it as my own.

I got up to move to the breakfast station but couldn’t see on my own due to the goggles. I needed help to avoid tripping and falling. At the table, one of the team members gave me a juice box, the kind with a straw you have to poke into the packet. Getting that straw in, even with my taped-up fingers, felt like such an accomplishment. I felt proud that I could still accomplish tasks on my own.

What It Feels Like to Lose Control

Then, things got weird. As part of the exercise, they had taped notes to the heads of attendees. My note instructed team members to “Rush Me.” Other attendees had notes like “Ignore Me” and “Treat Me Like a Child.”

The team members hosting the exercise started pressuring me to hurry up and move to the next task. “Hurry up! Hurry up! Finish your breakfast!” They raised their voices so I could hear it through the ear plus. Frustration washed through me – it had taken me so long to get the straw in my juice, and now they wanted me to leave before I could even finish? While rushing to finish, my stiff fingers lost their grip and I dropped my juice on the floor.

I felt frustrated, sad, and embarrassed. My instinctive reaction was to tuck myself away from the impatience of the team members and the other attendees. Even though I could have used the help, it felt safer to just try to do my best on my own.

I was feeling with the heart of an older adult choosing isolation as a response to the vulnerability of needing help.

Lessons in Person-Directed Care

I’ve learned so much more about person directed care since then, but the Empathy Experience is something that has stuck with me. Seeing through the eyes, listening through the ears, and feeling through the heart of another has taught me to be more aware of myself when I’m helping others.

Remembering my anger at being hurried along like an inconvenience, I am more patient and working to avoid rushing people through tasks. Thinking about my pride at getting that straw in the juice box, I am mindful to not take away opportunities for people to accomplish things by themselves.

Memories of my disconnectedness from my own handwriting has made me more aware of the feelings of loss of identity that can come as we age. Suddenly things that seemed steady, even our own handwriting, can change and feel foreign to us.

Why Empathy Matters in Care Partnerships

There are some things that only time can teach us to truly understand. But experiences like this one can provide greater empathy for the some of the challenges and feelings of the older adults we partner with in care.

When that empathy drives more patience, kindness, and attention to our own attitudes, it helps eliminate the plagues of loneliness, helplessness, and boredom.

All of us want to live well, with connectedness, joy, autonomy, and purpose. A little bit of understanding goes a long way to making us good partners in making that possible for the older adults that we support.