A small moment at the Tecumseh Skate Jam

I was walking through Tecumseh Skate Jam—music thumping, kids skating, the smell of Giresi’s pizza in the air—when I passed a guy holding a book. He looked out of place. […]

I was walking through Tecumseh Skate Jam—music thumping, kids skating, the smell of Giresi’s pizza in the air—when I passed a guy holding a book. He looked out of place. Disheveled, twitchy, scanning the crowd like he was searching for a threat. I asked him what he was reading, and he mumbled something. It took me a few seconds to register it: The 48 Laws of Power. Then he was off again, weaving through people, starting arguments, pacing like he was looking for a fight.

For those unfamiliar, The 48 Laws of Power is a book that treats manipulation and dominance like a strategy game—used by everyone from Wall Street sharks to cult leaders. It teaches people how to control, outwit, and overpower others. Not exactly the kind of energy you want loose at a skate park packed with kids.

This was the third year for the Tecumseh Skate Jam, and it felt like it had become something important. Bands playing, competitions on the ramps, booths set up by Greens and Maud’s, kids from every part of the city hanging out together without a trace of the cynicism adults sometimes bring. It’s the kind of event where you can actually feel what healthy community looks like—not some abstract idea but the lived reality of people building something together.

That’s why this guy stuck out. Not just because he was unwell, but because he was disruptive in a way that felt unsafe. He wasn’t just having a bad day—he was escalating. Picking fights with teenagers. Circling the same families over and over again. There’s a difference between being loud and being dangerous, and I think we all felt it.

Eventually, some of the event organizers and community elders—people who’ve put years into making this kind of gathering possible—made the call: it was time to bring in the police.

That kind of decision doesn’t get made lightly. In fact, I’ve been part of a lot of conversations in this city that challenge how and when we rely on police. I’ve written before about my opposition to the ballooning costs of a new $91-million police headquarters and the steady militarization of local forces. But this moment wasn’t about any of that. It was about a man who needed to be removed for the safety of hundreds of children and families.

To their credit, the police handled it well. They arrived calmly. They didn’t posture or provoke. They didn’t escalate. They walked with him. Spoke with him. Eventually, they arrested him—but it was clear that it was the final step in a long effort to de-escalate. No Tasers. No assault rifles. Just feet on the ground, doing the job.

That’s what I want from policing in Sarnia. Not new buildings. Not surveillance towers. Not stockpiles of tactical gear. Not dogs. What we need is exactly what showed up that day: officers who understand their role within a broader ecosystem of care, who can respond with presence instead of threat.

I’m not anti-police. I’m anti-over-policing. I’m against a budget that climbs by millions while youth programs fight for crumbs. But I also believe in naming good work when I see it. This was good work.

So here’s to the organizers of the Tecumseh Skate Jam—for creating a space where young people feel like they belong. Here’s to the vendors who brought food and colour and joy. Here’s to the kids who shredded the ramps with confidence. And yes, here’s to the officers who kept that sacred space safe without turning it into a spectacle.

Sometimes a good city shows up all at once.