edges and margins

The mosquitoes and heat (33, but felt like 40 with the humidity) were unable to deter us, though if we counted photographs taken and mostquito bites, the bites may win out. The sun hid behind a smog cover so I did not get the sun dappled, woodsy shots I was hoping for!
We went into the woods after learning some history about the walk we were on. A group of trailers were pointed out as places where some people used to sleep - until they were evicted and the locks put on. It is the usual tensions where there are places that are not being used but are "rightfully" owned. And then there are people without places to sleep who find empty, unused habitats and they move in and stay until they are discovered. Looking carefully we spied places where the grasses were trampled and when we followed the signs we noted that there were often signs that people had camped for shorter or longer periods of time. As James noted though, "It is getting harder to find people camping close to the city; they're moving, they're getting rousted." His home had been here only a year ago and there were almost no signs of it now.



James took us further in to where an old City dump had been and we found evidence of where people are making their homes. I feel a great deal of ambivalence about writing this - I worry that we will make it more difficult for them, somehow. I have learned that people living on the streets and bushes in Toronto hide themselves well. It is easy for us to pass by a residence and not recognize it as such unless we have learned the signs. The photograph at the top shows a campsite that may be in use - or not. There is still a groundsheet, so it is likely that it is in use. It was the middle of the afternoon when we were on our walkabout so there was no one to chat with.

So many people are living on the edges and margins and it is not necessarily out of choice. It is like you wake up and find ourself somewhere and you keep trying to move on, but your efforts are never quite enough. And that is due to the fact that we have created policies and structures to ensure that their efforts are never quite enough. More later....

barriers to sleeping

We welcomed Joe Fiorito again on our ramble, as we went to one of the ravines to look at some of the sleeping places that have historically been used for camping and found that many fences had been put up. I found myself getting frustrated and I now know why - the landscape that is being constructed parallels the administrative structures that are disabling. You suddenly find yourself unable to move - you're stuck. A new wall has been built. You used to be able to sleep here, but suddenly there is a 9-foot fence. It is disorienting and there is no place to vent your frustration.

After a hike we scrabbled up a rather steep incline - I might say 75 degrees. Kevin had spotted a man from across the way - and being ever adventurous had ran down and up before anyone could catch their breath. I looked across the gap to where he stood - small against the hill and bridge structure. We all made our way to where he was and decided that Jim, me and Joe would head up. Once at the top we met Mike, a seasonal worker at one of the tracks. He seemed too small for his clothes until I found out what his trade was. He grooms horses and works at the track, and doesn't like to stay in the shelters, mostly because of the other men. He was also hungry. He told us that there were some people staying there, again because this is the alternative to the shelters. I am still not sure I always understand. I can only hear the words and over time I wait for them to make sense. You see, the smell of mud was strong, the clothes and blankets that I saw were tumbled in the dirt. No woman's touch here. No Wendy for these Lost Boys... Just over the hill from this place there are houses worth millions of dollars. The juxtaposition is another stark and disorienting reality for today. One that I may have to sleep on... I feel tired... I want to see the photographs from today.

We also talked today about what we have all seen, what has effected us most on this project - more on this next time...

the sleep out that didn't happen - and the 300 beds that are still being lost...

ok, the sleep out didn't happen at Nathan Philips Square. the event was cancelled about 72 hours prior to its start due to events at OCAP. But we met up and documented what did happen. People met for a meal that OCAP provided and chatted in small groups. There were probably 150 people eating chili, bread, salad and cookies. Yummy! Thank you!!!

We had a number of conversations during the few hours that we were there. And we were surprised by the number of police that just happened to be out - not for the chili either.

The cuts in the 300 shelter beds is still happening. And as people say, we're not going to feel it that badly right now, we will feel it more in the winter. The City says that although beds are being lost the total is only about 110 as new shelters will open, and that housing is being found for those using shelters. There seems to be a great deal of disagreement at the bottom line - with those using the shelters saying they are not being moved into safe, healthy, affordable housing for the long-term.

I learned again, that those who are most vulnerable are the ones who suffer the most on the streets. I guess I am not surprised by this. It is an equation that operates in other spheres. So this is the story. Those who are using the shelters come in all moral shades, some darker than others, some of the darkest hues may celebrate by preying on those who are unable to understand cruelty, who may have cognitive problems, mental health issues.

Shelters operate with rules - some may have a policy that you can stay for 14 days and when your 14 days are up, if there are others that want to come in, well you are then out on the streets. However if you can intimidate other people, make them not want to come into the shelter then you can keep your bed... think about it for awhile... think about who stays on the streets and who gets the beds in our city. Think about the kind of economy that we have created.

But, back to the shutting down of beds, and the moving of shelter users to suburban areas to market rental units far from the supports of their community. We have to keep asking ourselves: Is housing a fundamental human right? and, What are the connections between housing and health?

the weight of water

Today we walked in the sweltering heat through a gorgeous part of Toronto to see where many people have slept and where some still are sleeping.

As Fred poetically commented: "Nestled between railway tracks and the Don river, Riverdale's backwoods are very Huckleberry Finn in appearance and feel. The dirt trails add to this charm. It is so dreamlike to see this rural enclave in the midst of an urban metropolis. Still, it seems very fitting in its place because of the scattered fire pits, broken fences and old rusty bridges with random graffiti."

Grasses and flowers were pollinating and we could see that the air was heavy with them. We walked under a bridge where there is a large concentration of pigeons and along with that comes the inevitable waste and feathers and mold... the health conditions are worrisome.
Everyone in the group has varying ability levels and energy that has to be accounted for. One member is recovering from being ill, another I worry may not have had enough to eat, and with the heat today I want to make sure everyone stays hydrated.

As we walk along we take pictures and talk about what is going on. One man says to me that he thinks he was made for being homeless. He used to run down to hang out with the hobos when he was 10 or 11. He'd hitch down to see them and spend time with them. His mother wouldn't notice his absence.

At times it is just a hum of conversation. We walk in pairs and triplets down trails, sometimes breaking off to look into an area that seems interesting. I spot a blackbird - or first I hear her and then see her above me in the trees. I repeat myself to Fred: "The light is beautiful!" And it is - it's one of those days where the sun streams through and the green on the trees is hardly worn. We stop for our break to eat sandwiches with mayonnaise and butter and meat and cheese (some of us!) and grapes and green peppers. And drink bottles of water. There is renewed energy and much discussion of the good food.

A pond is covered in the small seed pods that some trees are shedding. We stop to look at a duck and her ducklings. Going back up the hill we are in the shade of large, old trees and it is easy to see why these kinds of spots in nature would be desirable. There is quiet and no drug dealing neighbours. A pitched tent or a built lean-to is all that is really needed.

James reminds me of the weight of water and how on a hot day like this he can easily go through half of his week's supply. And doing dishes, staying clean - well, there are many other problems when you are living in the bush without secure access to clean, running water.

Allan Gardens 1999 - the present

Walking the streets in relationship with others creates a complex and personal space in my own life. After a day of walking I sit with a cold drink and realize that I am filled with emotion and fatigue. And the task of telling lies ahead. Without doing harm and hopefully while still doing good. There are layers and layers to untangle.
While we talk about the Allan Gardens occupation of 1999 a group of police cadets run past. Just after Rae has told us how the police had lined up with their riot gear on, how the area had been cordoned off, how it was just generally a bad scene. The scent of roses in full blossom are carried through the air and I close my eyes to feel the warmth of the sun.
We spent part of the day talking about photographs and part of the day taking pictures. People had been sleeping in Allan Gardens for years prior to "the occupation." The tent city had grown into existence to draw attention to the increase in homelessness and overfilled shelter space, to the fact that the homeless had resorted to sleeping on benches during the days and wandering the streets at night because there was nowhere to rest their bodies.
We wondered through this park, Allan Gardens, where some of the guys had slept, and then down the streets to look at the changes in the neighbourhood. So many barriers have been erected to prevent those without housing from sleeping in the liminal areas that they used to find. It is as if every crevice and cranny has been searched out and sewn up. What kinds of public space exist now? They are being policed - publicly and privately - and cordoned off.
We are preparing to go to the sleep out at Nathan Philips Square - June 18 - to document it. And we have to figure out how to keep us all warm and safe, and full of food. More to come on that...