Who gets to decide where hope goes?

You can call it consultation if you want. You can call it stakeholder engagement, public participation, or democratic process. But let’s be honest: what’s unfolding in Sarnia around the George […]

You can call it consultation if you want. You can call it stakeholder engagement, public participation, or democratic process. But let’s be honest: what’s unfolding in Sarnia around the George Street Indwell project is not consultation. It’s obstruction. It’s fear dressed up in committee minutes and letter-writing campaigns. It’s NIMBYism—raw and unrepentant—wearing a tie and speaking into the microphone at City Hall.

Let’s be clear about what’s at stake here. Fifty units of supportive housing—real homes with on-site mental health care, addiction supports, and social services—are being proposed in a city that desperately needs them. We are not speculating about the need. We are not guessing whether unhoused people exist in Sarnia. The need is here, and the people are here, and the question is simply this: will we welcome them or try to erase them?

Every time a city lets fear determine its land use decisions, it turns its back on justice. And what’s worse, it teaches its children that safety means keeping certain people away. That poverty is contagious. That addiction belongs “somewhere else.”

This is not new. It’s not even unique. The same song plays in cities across Canada. In Parkdale, Hamilton, Indwell built enhanced-support housing and when there were challenges, the reaction wasn’t to double support, it was to say they’d never build one like it again. And in Aurora, the Ontario Human Rights Commission had to step in to remind their council that you cannot zone people out of a community just because you’re scared of them.

This is what they call “people zoning.” It’s when opposition to housing is about who will live there, not what will be built. And it’s illegal. It violates the Ontario Human Rights Code. You don’t get to decide who your neighbours are. That’s not a right that anyone in this country has—no matter how many Facebook groups or email threads you organize.

And still, people say: “We already have enough services in the south end.” Or “This is going to be another Rainbow Park.” Let’s talk about that. What people mean when they say Rainbow Park is that a space where poor and struggling people gather is a space they’d rather not see. That seeing addiction, or poverty, or trauma makes them uncomfortable. But let’s remember—addiction isn’t contagious. Poverty doesn’t rub off. And if you don’t want to live near pain, maybe you need to ask yourself what kind of city you’re trying to live in. Because a city that hides its pain is a city that doesn’t heal.

Indwell isn’t perfect. No housing provider is. But what Indwell is doing—what they’ve done in London, St. Thomas, Chatham, and elsewhere—is building homes for people who have none. Homes with real walls and real support. Where a grandmother can host her grandson’s birthday party. Where overdose calls go down. Where crime drops. Where people who were once left for dead are invited to try again.

The loudest voices in opposition rarely offer alternatives. They don’t offer to house people themselves. They don’t fund shelters. They don’t attend harm reduction workshops. They just want someone else to deal with it and for it to happen somewhere else.

But here’s the thing about “somewhere else.” It doesn’t exist. Every community says the same thing: we support housing, just not here. Eventually, if we let those voices win, there’s no place left to build. No place to heal. No place to live.

And let’s talk about property. Because some of the same people opposing this project claim to be champions of freedom and private ownership. They want less government interference, until suddenly a piece of land is being used for something they don’t like. The George Street lot was donated. The development is legal. If this were a private condo development, would anyone be organizing petitions to stop it?

Who gets to decide what happens on private land? Who gets to say who is allowed to heal, and where?

This city is at a crossroads. We can become a city that builds walls, or a city that builds homes. We can listen to the voices shouting “no” or join the quieter chorus saying “yes.” Yes to care. Yes to support. Yes to housing as a human right.

The Special Council Meeting is on August 11. Write in. Show up. Speak up.

Because fear might be loud but it doesn’t speak for all of us.