The Man on the Roof: What Advocacy Really Looks Like in Long-Term Care

The Man on the Roof

I pulled into the parking lot for a routine ombudsman visit and immediately saw a man considerably older than me sitting on the roof, his legs dangling over the edge. A ladder leaned against the building.

My first thought was: There is a resident on the roof.

I walked closer, looked up, waved, and called out, “Hi, sir. What are you doing up there?”

Before he could answer, another man’s head popped up from the at other side of the roof.

“Hi,” he said cheerfully. “Can I help you?”

“I’m Carol, the ombudsman,” I said.

“Oh! I’m John,” he replied. “I’m the owner.”

I felt a wave of relief. “Oh, thank goodness. Who’s up there with you?”

“My dad,” he said.

“Oh,” I said, exhaling. “Double thank goodness.”

He laughed. “Why? Did you think he was a resident?”

“I did,” I admitted.

He paused, then asked, “So… what were you going to do?”

I thought about it for a moment and answered honestly. “Well, I guess I was going to figure out how to advocate for that man’s right to be on the roof.”

He laughed again. And I was trying to figure out if I was joking. I’ve been in some Ombudsman meetings where I’ve heard people advocating for some things I perceived were absolutely unsafe and ridiculous. 

Advocacy has a way of short-circuiting your assumptions. It forces you to set aside what you think should be happening and focus instead on the rights and choices of the person in front of you, even when those choices involve questionable decisions.

How I would have advocated for a resident’s right to sit on the roof, I’m not entirely sure. But the fact that it was my first instinct reminded me why the role matters.

Sometimes the work isn’t about taking action at all.

It’s about noticing where your mind goes first—and being willing to question it.