A New Mission

In 2015, when we set about advertising our newly formed Regent Park Neighbourhood Association, our little group decided that we needed a slogan. They offered no suggestions. Then, one morning while I was still half asleep, a motto tiptoed into my mind – Live Community.

I liked how the noun community draws us with its warm promise of belonging, even as the verb live stops us in our tracks by insisting that each of us must take responsibility. We are the ones who must create and sustain communal connections, whether in small ways by greeting our neighbours on the street or in more extensive ways by joining together to tackle some of our local problems. We decided to use Live Community for our group – and over the years, this phrase has become my personal mission.

To live community is never simple, especially in Regent Park. The revitalization process demolishes more than just buildings. Although social housing residents have the legal right to return after relocation, they find on coming back that their old support networks have been disrupted and flourishing grassroots groups have disappeared. Many grieve for the old days. But despite the nostalgia, community in the old Regent Park was often fractured. Over the decades, as wave after wave of immigrants settled in Toronto, Regent Park had become one of the city's most diverse enclaves. Racial, ethnic, and religious prejudices often festered just beneath the surface. And now, as revitalization creates a mixed-income neighbourhood, the new socio-economic rift makes community even more problematic because the new condominium owners will eventually outnumber the original social housing folk by a ratio of three to one.

But the challenge of community goes much deeper than heterogeneity. For the past fifty years, we've lived in an increasingly individualistic society focused on self-actualization, self-expression, and self-fulfillment. Life is about me – my journey, my success, my happiness. Such extreme individualism leads to a lack of social connectedness, with less accountability and growing distrust. As a result, isolation now underlies many of our current issues.

What we need is not a return to the conformity of traditional society but a middle ground that places greater emphasis on relationships – that makes time not just for me but for we. In short, we need to live community. To do this, says David Brooks in his New York Times article, "A Nation of Weavers" (Brooks, 2019), requires a counter-cultural shift in our values.

Our rookie neighbourhood association had no trouble putting together a list of values. They used words like "inclusive, welcoming diversity and ensuring that our most vulnerable members are not overlooked," "constructive, listening carefully to all viewpoints and speaking respectfully when our opinions differ," and, of course, "trustworthy and transparent." But listing values is easy. The challenge is to allow them to permeate our lives. 

Using the image of weaving, David Brooks explains how relational values become woven into society.  "We all create a shared moral ecology through the daily decisions of our lives. When we stereotype, abuse, impugn motives and lie about each other, we've ripped the social fabric and encouraged more ugliness. When we love across boundaries, listen patiently, see deeply and make someone feel known, we've woven it and reinforced generosity."

I like the idea of an ecosystem because in creating a healthy neighbourhood, there are trillions of intertwined strands that either enhance or impede life-giving connections. On the macro-level are the economic, political, and cultural structures that create the context in which we live. On a more intermediate scale are government services such as health care, education, transportation, and welfare. These, along with the support of not-for-profit agencies, empower us to participate more fully in the community. Zooming in further, we discover how the physical design of streets, parks, and buildings can foster spontaneous interactions and also provide space for the intentional advocacy meetings, sports teams and arts groups that bring us together. But even if all these interwoven factors foster connections, there will still be no togetherness unless, at the micro-level, each of us reaches out to our neighbours.

For this reason, I want to begin my reflections on community in Regent Park by examining this crucial personal level. I want to tell the stories of some of the many community builders who have inspired me. I want to explore the benefits that community groups have brought to this neighbourhood. And while fully recognizing the many challenges that our neighbourhood still faces, I hope to encourage those who, day after day, seek to live community in Regent Park.