Imagine you’re sitting in the living room of your home — the space you’ve curated, lived in, and made sacred with memories, habits, and rhythms that are all yours. Suddenly, without warning, a stranger opens the front door. Slowly. Quietly. Maybe even peacefully. They walk in, look around, and start moving through your space. They don’t speak. They don’t ask. They don’t acknowledge your presence. They just enter.

Now, let’s pause.
Even if this person doesn’t raise their voice or show signs of harm, how would you respond?

Most of us would feel alarmed — maybe even angry.
Why?

Because that individual entered without permission.
Because you don’t know them.
Because they didn’t build a relationship or even offer a hello.
And because they crossed a boundary — your boundary — the boundary of home.

For most people, home is not just a place; it is sacred. It’s where we feel safe, known, and where our most prized possessions reside.

Now, let’s shift the lens to long-term care settings — particularly nursing homes.

Older adults in these environments no longer live in the homes they once did. The four walls filled with family pictures, the sounds of a familiar neighborhood, and the routines they cherished are now behind them. In many ways, the only home they have left is their physical body — their skin, their vessel, their dignity.

So when a nurse, CNA, or healthcare staff member enters their room, moves their body, adjusts their clothing, or provides care without connection — even if well-intentioned — it can feel like that same intruder walking into a house unannounced. The response might be defensive, withdrawn, or even hostile. And just like the homeowner, the older adult may not desire to “get to know you” afterward — because the sacred boundary has already been crossed.

This doesn’t mean staff are doing anything wrong by providing care. It means we must do something human before we do something clinical.

Tips for Building Trust Before You Cross “Their Home”

Here are some practical, human-centered ways to connect before you care:

• Knock first, even on an open door. It signals respect and gives them a moment to prepare.
• Introduce yourself warmly. Say your name, your role, and what you’re there to help with — every time.
• Ask for permission. Even if policy says you can proceed, the question “Is it okay if I help you with…?” restores dignity and control.
• Use their name. It reminds them that they are more than a room number or diagnosis.
• Pause for small talk. A minute to connect can save you from resistance and build long-term trust.
• *Most Importantly–Learn one thing about them. A favorite memory, a past profession, or even how they like their coffee. Relationship is medicine.

This older adult is in one of the most vulnerable chapters of their life — emotionally, socially, and culturally. They are living where they may not want to be, away from the people who matter most, and often grieving the loss of their previous independence.

That’s why I strongly recommend all nursing home staff receive ongoing training in the following areas:

• Empathy — not just the feeling, but the practice.
• Emotional intelligence — knowing how your energy and feelings impact others.
• Cultural humility — understanding that each person brings a lived experience you may never fully grasp.
• Narrative understanding — seeing the individual not as a task, but as a story in progress.

It’s not “just a job.”
It’s a privilege to be welcomed into someone’s last remaining home — their body, their story, their space.

Let’s treat it that way.