Older adults are among the fastest-growing populations in California. By 2030, residents over 65 are expected to outnumber those under 18, signaling a major demographic shift. Recognized as community focal points under the 1965 Older Americans Act, more than 11,000 senior centers operate nationwide, offering different services such as meals, wellness classes, and spaces that foster social bonds.

Research shows social isolation poses serious risks to older adults’ mental and physical health. As people age, many face compounding health needs, fixed incomes, transportation challenges, and the loss of spouses, housing, mobility, or independence. Senior centers provide community support, yet despite their significant role, both older adults and the programs that serve them largely remain underrepresented in media.

In this photo essay, Los Angeles–based photojournalist and filmmaker Isadora Kosofsky documents the long-term impact of COVID-19-related senior center closures, many of which were the first communal spaces to shut down and the last to reopen, tracing their gradual return to the present day. Her work spans multiple years and communities including Tehachapi, Lincoln Heights, Westchester, Watts, and Culver City.

“I have seen very little in-depth storytelling about senior centers,” she says. “They exist in nearly every ZIP code, yet we know so little about these spaces and the people who gather within them.”

The intimate photographs reflect moments of solitude and connection, illuminating senior centers as daily spaces for kinship and community. “Ultimately, the project is about belonging,” Kosofsky says. “In our unprecedented aging world, it is vital that we report on how older adults seek meaning and build new relationships.

An older adult with white hair walks along a quiet, tree-lined sidewalk at dusk while another older adult wearing a face mask sits on a walker nearby, with parked cars and buildings lining the street.
People socially distance themselves outside subsidized senior housing in Santa Monica, in 2020. A 2024 University of Colorado Boulder study revealed that more than half of older adults still spend more time at home and less time socializing in public than they did prior to the pandemic. 
A handwritten note taped to a wall reads, “A Father is someone who keeps pictures of his family in his wallet where the money used to be,” beside a wooden cabinet topped with small figurines.
Edgar Burns, 93, lived in the Westchester neighborhood of Los Angeles. For over 10 years, he lived alone in the home he once shared with his wife and where he raised his three children. A former Mattel toy inventor, he continued to create toys well after retirement. He kept in touch with members of the Westchester Senior Center by phone, including the director.
An older adult lies on a bed with a patterned gray-and-white cover, one hand resting on a tablet while a TV remote, a used tissue, and a face mask sit nearby.
Shane Shabad, 90, who lives in affordable senior housing in Santa Monica, relies on his iPad for information. His vision loss makes it challenging for Shane to watch television, so he listens to the local Iranian radio. “Since nobody is talking to me during the day, I have noise.” 
Several deer lie partially hidden in tall, dry grass on a sloping hillside, their ears and heads visible above the straw-colored vegetation.
Older adults in rural areas, like Tehachapi in the Mojave Desert, face additional risks of social isolation. They face multiple barriers to connecting with others, such as transportation challenges, more limited economic resources, and more restricted access to health care, especially mental health care.
At dusk, an older adult sits at a desk inside a softly lit room, seen through a window from outside, reading papers while the exterior of the house remains in shadow.
Edgar Burns, 93, uses his computer to video chat with his grandchildren. Edgar was an active member of the Westchester Senior Center near his home for over a decade. He joined the community after his wife passed away. During the pandemic, he filled his time with socially distanced meals with his family, gardening, and used Portal, which his grandson set up for him.
An older adult wearing a face mask reclines on the grass in a shaded yard while another masked person crouches several feet away holding a bag, with leafy plants and houses in the background.
Burns, and granddaughter, Lianna Levine, 16, sit on the front lawn of his home. “Sure, I would like to do more things with my grandkids, but I can’t, so I don’t,” he said in 2020. “It’s just a few more months.”
An older adult wearing a protective face mask and cap stands indoors behind a screen door, one hand resting near their chest as they look outward.
Burns stands in the doorway of his home. He immediately returned to the Westchester Senior Center upon its reopening in 2022.
Low sun shines over a fenced backyard with overgrown grass, trees, and power lines, creating lens flare across the scene.
Burns, 93, dug holes for a week in the backyard of his home of 50 years. Edgar planted two different kinds of tomatoes in his garden, as COVID-19 cases rose in LA County. After preparing the soil in the yard at high noon, he walked for a mile daily. He picked blueberries off of an overgrowing plant beside his home. “Busy keeps me happy,” Edgar said in 2020. “Due to the coronavirus, all these things become important because you can’t do anything else.”
Two older adults sit on a bench along a hallway wall displaying framed documents, lit by a patch of sunlight, while another older adult wearing a cap stands nearby facing them.
Members gather in the main hallway at the Culver City Senior Center in 2025. “Even those that are recluse, all of us have a longing, different degrees of longing to belong and to be connected,” said Elena Portacolone, professor of sociology at the Institute for Health and Aging at UCSF.
An older adult stands behind a pass-through counter in a community room kitchen, surrounded by coffee makers, snacks, and paper goods, while a television plays on a small table nearby.
A member gathers food at the Watts Senior Center in Los Angeles in November 2025. “They have their homes. And our senior citizen centers are the second home,” said Leslie Richter, former supervisor for the Department of Recreation and Parks through the City of Los Angeles, which operates 29 senior centers in the city.
An older adult wearing a knit cap stands between parked cars in a sunlit lot, smiling while holding a small paddle and keys beside an open car door.
Gina Clewly, 85, stands next to her car with a ping pong paddle at the Culver City Senior Center. Gina drives from Beverly Hills to Culver City multiple times per week to play ping pong.
Four older adults sit around a table playing a tile game inside a community room while another older adult stands outside the window with a walker, looking in.
Macau Chen, 87, arrives in the morning to play Maj-Jong at the Culver City Senior Center. Macau speaks Cantonese only and has found community amongst the Maj-Jong players who sometimes spent eight hours at the senior center playing with other members in the hallways.
Two older adults sit closely together at a table in a community room, smiling and leaning in as one wraps an arm around the other’s shoulder, while several others sit nearby with trays of food and drinks.
Members of the Westchester Senior Center interact during lunch in Los Angeles. “We wanted to find new friends,” said Andrew Wong, 86, who became a member after the pandemic. Andrew and his wife attend both the Westchester Senior Center and the Culver City Senior Center. He was motivated to join, so he could also take an iPhone education class. “At my age, it’s hard to learn.”
Several handwritten name tags in plastic sleeves are arranged on a wooden surface, labeled with names such as Petra, Martin, Carolina, Pat, Nena, Lisa, Tony, and Leila.
Name tags at the Tehachapi Senior Center in Tehachapi. “It gives people something to do. A lot of seniors here have lost loved ones,” said Lewis Brown, who has been the center director since 2014. “Their kids don’t live in Tehachapi. You come here to socialize. And exercise and have a hot lunch.”
A handler wearing a glove steadies a large hawk as it flaps its wings near their face, while a smiling older adult in a sun hat watches closely. A crowd of adults and children stands nearby observing the demonstration outside a building.
Edgar Burns, 96, attends a fair at the Getty Center in Los Angeles in 2023 during the first outing with the Westchester Senior Center since the pandemic shutdown. For some older adults, transportation to and from the center to cultural and artistic events allows them to get out of their home with support. He continued to attend the senior center until his death in January 2025.
A group of older adults seated in a circle raise their arms overhead during a chair exercise class, while a pair of outstretched arms in the foreground frames the scene.
Members of the Tehachapi Senior Center stretch during a chair exercise class. Surveys reveal that more older adults are coming to senior centers for fitness classes since they reopened.  The volunteer run center of 200 members offers exercise, Scottish dance, line dancing, and support groups. “We are self-sufficient,” said Lewis Brown. While they use a city building, the members pay utilities and insurance through fundraiser dinners and member donations.  
Older adults dance and socialize in a community hall decorated with orange balloons, ghost cutouts, and Halloween banners while a DJ plays music on a small stage.
Chris Garcia, 78, dances with Eva De La Torre, 75, alongside other members of the Lincoln Heights Senior Center during a Halloween party. “I have no money, I live from Social Security” said Carmen Guerrero, 69, who became an active member of the center after she closed down her salon during the pandemic. “I want to be happy.
In warm sunset light, a smiling person in glasses and a scarf is blurred in the foreground while another person crosses a parking lot in the distance pulling a small rolling suitcase and carrying a tote bag.
Amy Valesco, 92, who lives alone, waits for her caregiver to pick her up the Culver City Senior Center after playing mahjong; another member is seen walking away in November 2025. “We are here from 9-4,” Ms. Valesco said. “This is like a second home…I’ve made a lot of friends here. It’s like a second family.”

This story was produced jointly by CalMatters and CatchLight as part of our mental health initiative.

Isadora Kosofsky is an award-winning photojournalist and filmmaker in Los Angeles. She is known for her humanistic and embedded storytelling, focusing on individuals and communities for years. She has...