…collaborative housing for older people can take many and varied forms and, as we have seen, new approaches and models are emerging all the time. When taken together these forms of housing have considerable scope and they have the potential to be developed on a much larger scale. Secondly, all forms of collaborative housing have a shared and distinctive quality. Collaborative housing is essentially about older people being able to have continuing influence and control over their housing and how they live – as their circumstances inevitably change even as they become more frail and vulnerable. It is about ‘growing older together’.
In Barcelona, a city I love even though my wallet was stolen during my only visit, Beco Housing has launched what it calls a “platform or meeting point for people interested in collaborative housing and a suitable professional team to make it happen.”
A dark-side perspective from the environmental ezine, Grist: I’m not sure what to do with this other than to acknowledge it.
Current and aspiring cohousers wax idealistic about the day-to-day benefits of living in such a community, from the practical, like sharing cooking and childcare duties, to the more intangible, like being part of a subculture where generosity is expected and encouraged.
…But despite the progressive inclinations of its enthusiasts, cohousing traditionally attracts a mostly white, educated, upper-income crowd — those with the means to buy a new, market-rate house (generally in the $200,000 to $500,000 range, depending on local real estate prices) and the time and energy to invest in a laborious planning process (Susan Stafford, a resident of Seattle’s Jackson Place Cohousing community, describes it as “fairly horrible”), plus monthly meetings and commitments to shared responsibilities once the community is up and running.
Despite being 20 years old, it continues to have some good advice, including this:
Cohousing may offer a desirable addition to neighbourhoods, but this may not be readily apparent to everyone. Cohousing groups can only benefit from applying the principle of collaboration to their external dealings with municipal planners, neighbours and city councillors.
Anecdotally, I hear that zoning by-laws often continue to put (probably unintended) barriers before co-housing developments. No doubt early consultation can overcome many of them.
Email correspondence with a young woman named Rebekah Churchyard, a “gerontological social worker” by trade, raises a question about the degree of advance planning we should give at the start in preparing for the end.
Some of the challenging questions she poses include:
What happens if a member of the community begins to develop some form of cognitive impairment, such as dementia? How far can the community accommodate? What is the point at which the safety of both the individual and the community requires a different response?
If the community has had use of a member’s property, such as furnishings, what will happen to this property when a member leaves or dies?
How does the community evolve to take in new members over time? This is less about the financial or contractual arrangements, and more about the deeper social impacts.
Rebekah’s point, with all of these, is to suggest that clarifying assumptions and expectations in some form of clear, written, “social contract,” should be negotiated right from the start, well ahead of the time it’s needed.
We had given some minor thought to this already. For example, we assume we may need to review our wills with co-housing in mind, and it will be important for all of us to have conversations with our families about our plans.
But a clearer and more detailed form of contracting than we had contemplated may well be advisable. After all, we’ve made the assumption that the best time to move into a co-housing arrangement is long before there is any necessity to do so. By the same token, we should also anticipate and prepare for the stages that come later.
The thing that surprises me most about the traditional cohousing developments I’ve read about (by “traditional,” I mean those that are based on a neighbourhood rather than a home) is how rarely people actually eat together.
It seems to be unusual for people in a cohousing development to take meals together more than once a week. Some plan community meals no more than once or twice a month.
To me, planning, preparing and sharing meals together is one of the big draws of a co-housing community. I love cooking — but not every day. I love cooking — but not for only two. I even like clean-up — but it’s more fun to do it with others.
And the act of eating together is in itself a powerful tool of community building.
I presume anyone who wants quiet time, or just isn’t feeling sociable in the moment, would always have the option of fixing a plate and taking it off to their room. And they should be able to do so with no one thinking unkindly about it.
But in our co-housing model, the assumption is tilted toward sharing at least the evening meal as a norm.
We’re going to start compiling some of our favourite recipes here (where they’re easier to find).
Can the built environment facilitate or influence the development of social capital in an urban environment?
Social capital is defined, briefly, as:
…the ‘glue’ which binds people together in a neighbourhood and encourages them to cooperate with each other.
Coelho’s fascinating question is whether architecture can actually design for the creation of social capital — in other words, design neighbourhoods that are more trusting, more collaborative.
Spoiler alert: Yes, they can.
If parking is provided, typical cohousing design normally separates the parking area from the development so that residents can not park their cars and walk a few steps to their home or even worse and typical in suburbia, drive directly into their garages and never have to walk into their front door. The idea of the separation is to force the use of the pedestrian pathways regularly by the residents creating a greater opportunity for interaction and networking.
Coelho finds that cohousing principles are more conducive to creating social capital than condominium or co-operative housing. But the cost of land makes it difficult to build cohousing in its traditional “horizontal” form within an urban center such as Toronto. Coelho identifies six design objectives which, he argues, can be applied more economically in a “vertical” cohousing form more suitable for cities.
The objectives are described in detail on pages 40-42 of his thesis. Briefly, they include:
Create individual identity for each of the residents of the development
Design for social integration to also create a group identity
Promote a sense of security
Emphasize individual and group privacy
Provide physical connectivity to facilitate the development of personal connections
Some commonality in ideologies, political views, and shared experiences may help to promote social connectivity.
In pages 50 through 77, well worth a read for anyone interested in this subject, Coelho uses these objectives in an actual urban design process.
In fact Margaret Critchlow, frequently cited as a pioneer in these areas, forsook Toronto for Sooke, B.C. (see what I did there?).
Also on the West Coast, an American start-up called Open Door has a rather grandiose vision of how coliving can reshape civilization and save the planet. Our goals are more modest.
In Ontario there are various developments in smaller centers, like Bracebridge, Minden or Barrie, outside the GTHA. But here in the city (excluding special-purpose developments like assisted living homes) we’ve so far discovered only three (or maybe four) — and only one of them actually exists.
Beverley House is closest to the model we’re proposing, in which a number of people share a single home. They describe themselves as “a group of people who view living in a community as something more than just being room-mates. We are looking for people – families or individuals who share our vision of co-creating a sustainable community home together.”
Canopy Cohousing bills itself as “Toronto’s first cohousing community,” but it isn’t — yet. The members are aiming to create a neighbourhood in the classic cohousing mode, with separate residences sharing some common facilities. “We have been meeting as a whole group and in committees since April 2009. …Our plan is to build or renovate about 2 dozen units, where each family will have its own home (including kitchen, and everything you would expect in a house). We will also build a common house with a shared kitchen, dining room, and other facilities. We plan to share meals on a regular basis.” Full marks for persistence, but it’s a little sobering to consider that seven years on, Canopy is still in the planning stages.
People come and go at Delicious Earth, a vegan and spiritually-centred communal living house near Dufferin Grove.
Whole Village, in Caledon, north west of Toronto, offers a more rural version of the cohousing concept, along with a seasonal B&B.
There’s also an innovative cohousing community in Ottawa, Terra Firma, unusual for the way it re-purposed existing structures.
It began with two, 1920s row houses of three units each. Later, the two original row houses were joined together by a new addition, providing a seventh unit plus common space. (Thanks to Robert Coelho’s master’s thesis for the photo and description.)
Are there others? If you know of another Toronto co-housing community, please add it in a comment.