Deborah Seelhoff

I believe people learn in three ways: by seeing, by hearing, and by doing. Too often, dementia training is limited to watching videos every few months, and while some training is better than none, it doesn’t always create real understanding.

When I work with carepartners, I don’t just tell them what to do, I show them, and more importantly, I help them feel it. Whether in person or virtually, I guide them through what it truly looks like to live with dementia. When they experience approaches like The Positive Physical Approach™ (PPA) and Hand-under-Hand®, there’s a shift; they get it.

I empower caregivers by honoring the work they do. I tell them, I have the deepest respect for you. And I remind them: when you focus on building a relationship, everything changes. Your job becomes more meaningful, your stress decreases, and the person you’re caring for feels safer and more understood.

Right now, many carepartners feel like they’re constantly fighting, trying to get someone to do something they don’t want to do. I teach them how to move away from task-focused care and into person-centered connection, Positive Approach to Care (PAC)®. Because when we focus only on tasks, we risk taking away someone’s autonomy, and where is the empathy in that?

Care is not a task. It’s a relationship.

In my presentations, I create real moments of awareness. I might step into someone’s personal space so they can feel that discomfort, and then ask, “How does that make you feel?” and "So how do you think your person living with dementia feels?" That experience provides a firsthand understanding.

And when I speak to families, I meet them with compassion. I tell them, "You are doing everything right based on what you know, and now you have the opportunity to do even better." Most families leave with a sense of relief and understanding that this is an ever-changing condition, and as our loved one living with dementia changes, so do our relationships and support systems.

I don’t know that anyone ever gave me advice that stayed with me. Looking back, I think I’ve always just followed something inside of me. I’ve always marched to my own drum, finding my own voice and trusting my own strengths, even when it didn’t make sense to others.

When I was told not to pursue dance in university because it wouldn’t make any money, I chose it anyway. I followed what felt right in my heart, earning my Bachelor of Fine Arts and dancing with a company. At the time, I didn’t realize I was building something deeper, the ability to connect, to feel, and to communicate beyond words.

I never expected that my path would lead me to people living with dementia. But through my experience supporting older adults, something shifted in me. What started as work became something personal. Their stories, their vulnerability, their humanity, they stayed with me.

They are the ones I carry in my heart the most.

I didn’t follow someone else’s advice; I followed myself. And somehow, that led me exactly where I was meant to be.

If you feel called to dementia care, seek as much education as you can, and always see through the lens of the person living with dementia. Go beyond tasks, beyond agendas, and come back to the person; the relationship.

People living with dementia have lived full, meaningful lives. They are no less of who they’ve always been; only the way they express themselves changes. They are giving us information every day; we just have to slow down, be present, and truly listen.

This work asks more of us, too. We must keep showing up, speaking up, and advocating for better training and higher standards. We cannot lead with fear; we must meet people face to face and honor their dignity.

It’s not about managing behaviors; it’s about building relationships, protecting dignity, and recognizing the life that is still here.

When we choose relationship over task, we don’t just change care… we change the experience of being human.

The biggest challenges in dementia care today include a fragmented system, low caregiver pay, high staff turnover, and a lack of essential dementia training for memory-care staff, first responders, and anyone working in senior care fields like wound care, in-home care, hospice, placement, and social work. Families often struggle to understand the condition, leaving them feeling uncertain and unsupported.

Where do they turn for information and support? the internet? Think of how much time and energy we spend finding the perfect preschool for our 3-year-old? When you are faced with a situation where you may have to place your mom in a memory care community in 12 hours, you would Google "memory care near me." You will then choose based on location and price. What quality of care do you think you would get? Educating families to ask the hard questions and plan ahead so no "quick" fixes are needed.

The greatest opportunities lie in expanding accessible, practical training, including hands-on and video-based programs, advocating for mandatory dementia education, and transforming care models to be relationship- and purpose-driven. When we do this, people living with dementia are treated with dignity, engaged meaningfully, and supported as the individuals they have always been.

The values that guide me in life and in my work are empathy, dignity, and respect for the individual. I strive to honor relationships, support autonomy, and help people living with dementia find purpose and meaning in each day. My faith and gratitude remind me to be present, to approach others without judgment, and to notice the small, everyday blessings. I treasure the gifts of those I love and the moments that make life meaningful, knowing that connection, compassion, and understanding are at the heart of everything I do.