Introduction

In Britain today, living arrangements vary: we live on our own, as couples, in families or in non-related groups, across a range of dwelling types and experiencing different forms of domesticity and tenure. While older members of the population are likely to have experienced rented accommodation during their lives, over the past 30 years home ownership among this group has increased dramatically. The English Housing Survey for 2008-09 indicates that for people aged 65 years and over, owner-occupation has increased from less than 50% in 1981 to 75% in 2008-09, with 60% owning their home without a mortgage (DCLG, 2010). More recent data indicates the continuation of this trend, with 83% of the over-60s in England and 91% of 76- to 80-year-olds currently owner-occupiers (Ota, 2015, p 26; DCLG, 2017). The vast majority of older people live in mainstream housing in age-integrated communities; although just over half a million live in either retirement housing including sheltered and extra-care housing, and just under half a million of the most vulnerable live in care homes (Laing, 2014; Darton et al, 2012; Pannell and Blood, 2012).

For those no longer engaged in paid employment, the home environment can often form the central focus of everyday experience. So for those concerned with understanding person-environment (PE) interaction in later life and whether design enables congruence or creates mismatch (see Lawton, 1980; Peace et al, 2006; Iwarsson, 2013), focusing attention on one domestic space within the home creates the opportunity for an in-depth analysis. In this chapter, attention centres on the domestic kitchen in mainstream and supportive housing. The kitchen has many meanings: it is a functional space, a food environment, a place of storage, an activity space and central hub. For many, it is gendered space where ‘women's work’ as ‘housewife’ was, and still is, contained and where confrontation over public/private lives has changed across the 20th century (Oakley, 1974; Silva, 2010).

Historical design, social engagement and personal need are central to literature concerning the domestic kitchen (see Eveleigh, 2004). In her book The making of the modern kitchen (Freeman, 2004) , June Freeman begins with two comments that have resonance for this chapter.

Introduction

Knowledge transfer is the starting point for this chapter, which has been crafted by members of six collaborative research teams who have been involved in unique projects concerning aspects of everyday living for older people, addressing issues of technology and design from a human perspective. A real dichotomy underpins this work, because while the focus has been on working with and learning from people in later life, all address issues that may affect people of all ages. So there is a real sense that while we may continue to highlight the underpinning ageism of designers, retailers and the youth-obsessed market, what we are really demonstrating is the importance of inclusive or universal design (Coleman, 1994) throughout the life course, or what has been called ‘transgenerational design’ (Pirkl, 1994). In recognising this we can see that this body of work from the New Dynamics of Ageing (NDA) Programme builds on the seminal research carried out for the i-design consortium funded by the Engineering and Physical Sciences Research Council (EPSRC) (2002–07) that brought together researchers in engineering and design (see Clarkson et al, 2003; Royal College of Art, 2012). It also recognises the dynamism of design outlined here by Fuad-Luke (2009, p xix):

The NDA researchers also include a wide range of disciplines, bringing together social and medical scientists and the humanities alongside engineering and design colleagues.

Introduction

Dorothea Mackellar's poem, of which the above is the final verse, was written when she was homesick in England, far away from her birthplace in Australia. It is an iconic and romantic rendition, which evocatively recalls the pastoral landscape of England before rejoicing in Australia's more rugged geography and the poet's love for this homeland. The poem was given to me in Australia by one of my British born respondents, who, like many featured in this chapter, recognised its underlying sentiments, most particularly those enshrined in the final verse, although in their case ‘homing thoughts’ were to a more lush and less brown country.

During the course of my social gerontology research and my social work practice over the years, I have occasionally heard older people talk of a heartfelt desire to return to their place of birth or childhood before the end of their life. A vague interest in this phenomenon grew as I myself became older, but was only fully ignited when two unexpected events took place, in quick succession. The first was a visit to Sydney, Australia, the city of my birth and early childhood, to present a paper at a gerontology conference. Although not having set foot in that country for over 30 years, on leaving the airport and travelling though the city I suddenly, and unexpectedly, had an overwhelming feeling of being ‘home’. The second relevant event was a chance sighting of a message posted on a BBC website, from an English woman who had watched a TV programme about post-World War Two emigrants to Australia, of which she was one. Her message read, ‘I am too British to change my nationality and never will regret coming back [after 30 years]. As the years went on, my dread was that I would die before returning.’

I subsequently decided to send a letter to the editor of a major Australian newspaper, inviting interested readers to contact me with their views on return migration in later life.

Introduction

The main objective of this book is to explore the motivations, decision-making processes and consequences, when older people consider or actualise return migration to their place of origin; and also to raise the public policy profile of this increasingly important subject. The collection will examine in detail a range of themes affecting return migrations, including: autonomy and personal imperatives; socioeconomic considerations; cultural assimilation and psychological adjustment; belonging and attachment to place; kinship and friendship needs; and health and resource planning.

Return Migration in Later Life is unusual in four important ways. First, the collection has a wide remit and does not exclusively focus on refugee, political, heritage, lifestyle, or family-oriented return, but encompasses all these constituent parts and, in so doing, highlights core themes as well as particular issues and comparative factors. Second, chapters reflect a variety of quantitative, qualitative and ethnographic methods of enquiry, by researchers from different disciplines, representing social gerontology, anthropology, migration and human geography perspectives. Third, there are varying emphases on permanent return, non-permanent returns, and visits to place of origin, which reflects variety in strategic approaches and also recognises that visits are important signifiers of a return home. Finally, Return Migration in Later Life is unique, as far as I know, in bringing this breadth and depth of exploration to bear on older people's return movements, providing a focused synthesis that allows a neglected subject to receive due attention in an era of ageing and more mobile societies. As such, it is hoped that the book will be of practical use and interest not only to those from academic disciplines mentioned above, but also to social welfare professionals, policy makers and practitioners involved in tourism, as well as older people considering return migration.

There are two important and related reasons for this consolidated focus: a need for more detailed research on return migration; and a general lack of attention to migration in later life.

The experience of ‘going back’ has generally been absent from migration literature (Baldassar, 2001:4), as it has within anthropology (Stefansson, 2004), and as a result we have limited knowledge of motivations, socioeconomic influences, or cultural impact on home or host country.

The collection of chapters in this book provides a substantial contribution to our knowledge of return migration in later life. In particular, this book has provided material and analysis that shows how return migration in later life often involves a complex calculation in which certain factors may all claim attention, and be weighed in the balance, when contemplating, deciding on, or enacting, return. At stake are critical issues, including: family ties, obligations and their emotive strengths; comparative quality, and cost, of health and welfare provision in host and home countries; and older age transitions and cultural affinity with homeland.

Such issues are rightly receiving an increasing amount of research attention, although research findings tend to be as scattered, in terms of their reporting, as the countries being studied. This book provides a much needed synthesis of wide ranging, highly relevant studies and also, importantly, brings together key contributions whose fusion promotes a keen appreciation of these issues in respect of their policy and research implications. This concluding chapter summarises important themes, insights and messages drawn from the book as a whole.

Older migrants’ family relationships and responsibilities constitute a highly significant theme in the context of return migration in later life. This is to be expected, perhaps, given Bengtson and Allens’ conceptualisation of the family as a ‘collection of individuals with shared history who intersect within ever changing social contexts across ever increasing time and space’ (1993:470).

Family connections in both home and host country are certainly important to ageing migrants later in life, and location of children in particular can affect decisions, motivations and outcomes as regards return strategies: Ruting's returnees to Estonia (Chapter Eight) visit mainly to rebuild kinship with relatives whose ability to communicate with relatives abroad had been denied by the Soviet authorities; Olsson's political refugees from Chile (Chapter Eleven) similarly prioritise kinship reconnections when considering return from Sweden, despite pragmatic reasons to stay well connected with the diaspora in the host country; Conway and colleagues (Chapter Five) found that lifecourse events may trigger an ability or interest to rejoin family who remained in the home country, providing opportunities for mutual support; and Percival's study (Chapter Six) indicates how family reconnections in the home country, especially with similar age siblings, offer the hope of close and shared bonding that helps replace the loss of spouse, friends or career, bereavements perhaps more keenly felt by the ageing migrant.