In her recent letter to the editor, Kelly O’Connor-Beausoleil accuses me of getting a few facts wrong in my column about Indwell’s George Street project. She might be right. She’s read the housing report more carefully than I have, and I appreciate the clarification. It’s true the building is classified as Enhanced Supportive Housing. It’s […]
In her recent letter to the editor, Kelly O’Connor-Beausoleil accuses me of getting a few facts wrong in my column about Indwell’s George Street project. She might be right. She’s read the housing report more carefully than I have, and I appreciate the clarification. It’s true the building is classified as Enhanced Supportive Housing. It’s true the old hospital is gone. It’s true that River City is a different model.
And none of that changes what I wrote.
Because for every paragraph we spend parsing the exact phrasing of a housing report, or clarifying the difference between sanctuary and shelter, or quibbling over whether a neighbourhood counts as “successful,” we’re doing the same thing: distancing ourselves from the uncomfortable truth that this project is about housing people who are suffering.
It’s incredible to me that Kelly felt the need to write in at all—if, as she claims, she’s not judging who will live there. Because that’s what all these clarifications are really about, aren’t they? Drawing lines. Making distinctions. Telling us that this isn’t “just affordable housing,” it’s for people who are mentally ill. Or recently incarcerated. Or who’ve struggled with addiction. As if that’s the disqualifier.
I get it. It feels safer to debate zoning and terminology than to ask ourselves whether we believe people in deep need deserve to live near us. But let’s be honest about what we’re doing.
We’re not preserving the character of a neighbourhood. We’re protecting the comfort of a story we tell about who belongs in Sarnia—and who doesn’t.
And that’s the real issue I’m trying to point at.
