Park People’s Executive Director, Erika Nikolai, has been honoured with the Distinguished Individual Award from World Urban Parks—an international recognition that celebrates her leadership and the growing national movement Park People has helped build here in Canada.
Why are events in parks important? How do grants fit into Park People’s larger goals for creating change in city parks?
The emerging stream of the Park People Nature Connect Fund provides up to $5,000 to grassroots and registered organizations across Canada that connect people with nature, foster ecological stewardship, and restore urban parks and green spaces.
The scaling stream of the Park People Nature Connect Fund offers up to $20,000 to registered organizations across Canada that connect people with nature while fostering ecological stewardship and restoring urban parks.
Learn more about green social prescribing, an evolving practice that encourages individuals to reestablish connections with nature and one another to enhance their mental, physical, and social wellbeing.
A reflection on the BEING BLACK IN PUBLIC Survey Report, exploring how Black communities experience parks and public spaces, and what fosters joy and belonging.
How do we build a healthier, greener, more joyful Toronto? We start at the park. Discover how communities across the city have transformed their green spaces over the past fifteen years. Then roll up your sleeves and help shape what comes next.
By donating to Park People, you’ll support vibrant parks for everyone.
This case study is part of the 2021 Canadian City Parks Report, showcasing Inspiring projects, people, and policies from across Canada that offer tangible solutions to the most pressing challenges facing city parks.
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In Canada, philanthropy has historically been focused on public institutions like universities, hospitals, and the arts, but less so on parks. However, recent years have seen major new public space donations in Canada. With rising appreciation for parks during the COVID-19 pandemic, philanthropic interest in parks could grow, bringing both opportunities and challenges.
For Sheila Taylor, Executive Director of the Parks Foundation Calgary, an independent organization that primarily supports resident-led park projects, park philanthropy is connected to the city’s entrepreneurial spirit.
“Citizens have always gotten involved to create the city that they want,” she said. “People deeply care about parks and public spaces—we’ve seen that more and more through the pandemic. And when people care for something they want to contribute to that—whether it’s their time, talent, or financial contributions.”
This deep sense of connection is also why Toronto’s Parks Forestry and Recreation Division’s Doug Bennet believes people give to parks. “Philanthropy is an opportunity for people to give to causes that are important to them,” he said. “People love our parks and a lot of people feel compelled to give back.”
Park philanthropy is still quite nascent in Canada. While there have been some larger donations, such as $25 million for Toronto’s Meadoway, the majority of funding is for smaller-scale projects, such as playgrounds, and community programming. This can take the form of individual major gifts, foundations, corporate donations, and community-based fundraising.
Bennet said that while donations to parks can make real impacts—and he has seen interest in park philanthropy grow during his eight years at the city—it’s important to keep the scale of these investments in mind compared to the overall publicly funded city parks budget.
“It’s not an insignificant amount, but it’s also not an enormous amount,” Bennet said. In the 2020 Canadian City Parks Report, for example, Toronto reported $8 million from private sources out of a more than $100 million capital budget, showcasing the dominance of public funding.
Even with philanthropy-supported park projects, private dollars rarely cover the whole bill. In Calgary, the city’s Leverage Partners Program provides matching funding for philanthropic and community-led park projects through an $8 million budget over 2019 – 2022. Thunder Bay has a similar program where the city will share half the cost with a community for projects over $100,000, while Ottawa splits its cost-sharing program into both minor and major capital projects.
While Canada is nowhere near the scale of park philanthropy seen in the United States, there are lessons we can take from the American experience where drastically reduced parks department budgets have coincided with an explosion of privately funded and operated parks.
Park budgets in Canada, while strained, have not seen the drastic cuts that many American cities have faced, which have effectively shifted a portion of responsibility of care and funding for city parks from the public to the private sector.
This shift has resulted in some truly eye-watering donations, including $100 million for New York’s Central Park and $465 million for the creation and operation of Tulsa’s Gathering Place.
These increasingly large donations have caused some to raise concerns. Critics argue that big money donations distort park planning towards donor visions, crowd out public dollars, and result in the overfunding of showcase parks in affluent, often whiter, neighbourhoods at the expense of lower income, racialized communities.
In response, a new crop of American philanthropic initiatives have sprouted that centre equity, funding underserved communities, and building local capacity.
Take Reimagining the Civic Commons. This equity-focused philanthropic initiative works in 10 U.S. cities to provide public space funding to support equitable economic development, environmental sustainability, and social connections. The project has published numerous resources to assist others in engagement methods, design, and evaluating impact. The experience of New York’s High Line is another example. Following criticism that the heavily privately-funded linear park catered to mostly white visitors and resulted in gentrifying the neighbourhood around it, the non-profit behind the park launched the High Line Network. This new organization—of which the philanthropic-supported Bentway and Meadoway in Canada are members—publishes resources to help other parks follow a more inclusive and equitable development path.
Successful philanthropy responds to community needs and doesn’t arrive with a fully baked plan that provides little avenue for community members to shape outcomes. For cities, it means ensuring transparent and equitable processes for evaluating projects. While some donors may be frustrated at a slower pace for approvals, these processes are critical in providing public oversight.
In Calgary, Parks Capital Development Manager Nico Bernard said that the city has done a lot of work defining the relationship with the Parks Foundation Calgary, including expectations of how projects align.
The city uses a “stage gate” process that involves projects passing through several evaluations. This ensures projects fit within the city’s strategic vision and meet actual user needs. Projects are evaluated several times from proposal to construction. “There’s a rigor there to make sure projects get vetted,” Bernard said.
Part of vetting is “thinking about the future of the space too, not just what happens when it’s first built,” Sheila Taylor said. It’s important to have conversations up front about who will maintain a space long-term before any fundraising agreements are in place.
The Foundation has also helped the city with its own priority park projects, such as the recently completed Rotary-Mattamy Greenway. With its $50 million budget funded by both private and public dollars, the 138km greenway connects 55 communities around the city and was a part of the city’s strategic vision.
In Toronto, Bennet said any donation over $50,000 must go to city council for a vote, which dictates a level of due diligence. “You’re going to want to make sure that you’re putting forward a project that aligns with city interest,” he said.
Additionally, Bennet said that the city directs corporate giving to the city’s Neighbourhood Improvement Areas, which are defined by a set of equity-focused criteria, and other areas of the city that may not have access to the kind of philanthropic interest certain neighbourhoods receive.
Assessing philanthropic opportunities in parks through an equity lens is important as recent reviews of Canadian giving have uncovered some startling divides.
A 2020 report, Unfunded: Black Communities Overlooked by Canadian Philanthropy, compiled financial data from Canadian foundations to look at what kinds of organizations get funded. While the report doesn’t focus specifically on parks investment, the results point towards a systematic failure of Canadian philanthropy to fund Black-led organizations—one that should make the parks sector pause as well. For each $100 given by top Canadian foundations, 3 cents went to Black-led organizations, while community foundations gave 7 cents.
Rudayna Bahubeshi, a policy and programs specialist with nearly five years of experience working in the Canadian charitable sector, said it’s necessary to evaluate park funding through a racial-equity lens given the mental and physical health benefits we know come from access to high quality green spaces.
While it’s important to review which groups and neighbourhoods have gotten funding in the past, Bahubeshi said that it’s critical for organizations to think upfront in program design about what they can do if they’re not reaching Black and Indigenous-led groups.
For example, if a funder is hoping to reach a certain population, they should be clear about those commitments in the grant itself, she said. If people don’t see people like themselves supported in the past, then “it’s not obvious to them what’s a priority for the organization.”
Reforming how grants are reviewed is also key—a topic Bahubeshi explored in a 2021 article for The Philanthropist on anti-Blackness in the Canadian sector.
She stressed that care needs to be taken when assessing groups based on “capacity” because there’s a tendency to pass over groups who have less experience, ultimately resulting in the same groups being funded time and again. Rather than penalizing groups with less experience writing grants, it should be viewed as an opportunity to support these groups to grow, Bahubeshi said.
This advice supports what urbanist and anti-oppression consultant Lena Phillips wrote in a 2020 article on creating safe public spaces where she argued that current funding models privilege certain groups, containing access barriers such as requirements for charitable status or incorporation.
Some granting organizations have since taken steps to address these gaps. Both the Toronto Foundation and Vancouver Foundation have launched grants that specifically target Black and Indigenous-led organizations, offering phone consultations and reducing some of the barriers to access around charitable status.And, while it is a publicly-funded grant, the Federal Government’s 2021 Healthy Communities Initiative, delivered by Community Foundations Canada, contained equity guidance for applicants designed by Canadian placemaker Jay Pitter that is helpful for organizations, cities, and foundations when designing programs.
While much of the focus on park philanthropy is about money, another important aspect—even more so than the dollars, some experts said—is the community capacity and stewardship-building element.
Park People Managing Director Erika Nikolai said it’s the time and energy people donate through organizing community programming that is so important. These smaller activations help build community connections, but also the capacity of these groups to put on larger activities and advocate for improvements.
She also pointed out that the pandemic has highlighted the importance of community programming in supporting more socially connected and healthier communities. Rather than focusing philanthropic dollars solely on capital projects, she said supporting these types of activities can be beneficial, while also requiring less money.
Philanthropic projects can also help bring people together. While solely city-funded park projects include community engagement elements, the quality of that engagement can be different when community members are more directly involved in raising funds, conceiving of a project themselves, or both.
Sheila Taylor argued philanthropy is about building a constituency of support for parks and a sense of shared responsibility and purpose. “I really believe that philanthropy isn’t just giving money, it’s about a commitment of your time and talents to a cause,” she said.
The Foundation focuses on providing tools to communities rather than taking on projects themselves. This includes grants to support conceptual design work and help managing the financial aspects of projects.
“We built a music garden last year and that was a real labour of love that saw many, many Calgarians donate personally,” Taylor said of the Quinterra Legacy Garden, a park built in memory of five youth who were murdered in 2014. “It was probably hundreds and hundreds of donors to this park to create this music garden and it was such a transformational experience.”
Toronto’s Doug Bennet pointed to the experience of philanthropic-supported playground builds. Engaging residents in constructing playgrounds together is a way to build relationships, Bennet said. “Partnership work can be about building that trust and that’s critical for government.”
Another way to tap into similar stewardship and relationship-building impacts, however, may be through participatory budgeting exercises. This publicly-funded process allows community members to propose and vote on a slate of projects to fund in their own community. Canadian cities such as Kitchener, Montreal, Longueuil, and Toronto have piloted this process to varying degrees, with Montreal launching a $10 million budget focused on social and ecological resilience. These cities touted higher rates of participation than traditional park engagement. But they also raised concerns about the potential to foster a competitive atmosphere, which highlights how an equitable, transparent decision-making process is key—whether privately or publicly-funded.
Finally, philanthropic and community-driven projects can help bring fresh ideas and a creative mindset to public spaces. A community can sometimes see connections across different types of public spaces they use in their daily lives—such as parks, hydro corridors, and streets—that a city parks department may not.
As Calgary’s Manager of Partnerships Marisol Narvaez said, philanthropy “does cause us to rethink how we approach public spaces.”
Just look at Calgary’s recently constructed Flyover Park. This unique park was the result of a community vision to reimagine public space underneath a roadway overpass.
Community members worked with middle school students to envision what was possible, eventually bringing on landscape architecture students from the University of Calgary to help flesh out the design. It was ultimately funded by a collection of private donations and funding from both the provincial government and the city.
Now it has become a much beloved spot in the community, but, as Sheila Taylor put it, “it started with children who had an idea to create a park there.”
Note: This story discusses the racial uprisings and attacks of the past year, including the murder of George Floyd, Wet’sutwet’en land defense struggles and attacks on people of Asian descent.
This past year was marked by an unprecedented wave of racial justice movements that fostered hope and resilience in the middle of a global pandemic (no small task). Across Canada and the world, Black, Indigenous and people of colour demanded justice in all its forms.
Wet’sutwet’en hereditary chiefs asserted their rights to ancestral lands in opposition to an oil pipeline that highlighted how colonization continues to play out in the present day. Months later, the murder of George Floyd prompted a similar reckoning, one that focused on the livelihoods of Black people in America and beyond. These movements forced us to engage in uncomfortable dialogues about the ongoing effects of racism and colonization.
It is no surprise then that the response to these struggles have taken place in public space. Professional fields such as urban planning have traditionally promoted the importance of public space for its ability to stay “neutral” in the face of politics and oppression, presuming everyone to have the same access and interactions with their surroundings, regardless of their identities.
So, when Christian Cooper, an African-American man birding in Central Park, and Justine Abigail Yu, a Filipina-Canadian relaxing in a public park, were both subjected to racial attacks in public spaces, it forced this “neutrality” into question. Over the past year, the Chinese Canadian National Council collected instances of anti-Asian hate crimes online. Of the hundreds of records collected, over 50% occurred in public spaces.
Amid the solidarity actions that shut down streets, railways, and other public spaces in response, prominent thinkers such as Jay Pitter addressed this directly: “urban design either perpetuates urban inequity or it can actually resolve urban inequity,” she stated in a news segment.
These stories and numbers confirmed what many Black, Indigenous, and people of colour already knew about this “neutrality.” In short: it wasn’t real. Not for those whose racial identities shaped their experiences in public space as much as the amenities or maintenance. The right to exist in public space, freely, was just as important to make these experiences enjoyable. And the recognition that it should be those very same communities to make the necessary changes was finally taking hold.
Through research, advocacy, and municipal positions, people of colour have been asserting the right to exist as thought leaders in urban space circles. As grassroots movements forced a critical eye on all the ways we are complicit in racism, people working in parks and public space were forced to do the same.
Jacqueline L. Scott noted the huge uptake in her work as a result. Scott is a PhD Student at the Ontario Institute for Studies in Education at the University of Toronto whose research focuses on the experiences of Black people in the outdoors. Since the resurgence of the Black Lives Matter movement, she’s had an unprecedented number of webinar and media requests to talk about her work. She credited this interest to a better understanding that “the same racial hierarchies operate in the outdoor or environmental sectors as everywhere else.” In our April 2021 survey of Canadians, 77% of respondents said they thought people experienced parks differently based on aspects of their identity. Creating a “bridge” between environmental and social justice work is also critical in building relationships with communities that are predominantly racialized.
Scott sees those same hierarchies in the parks and recreation departments she has worked with. A “white wall” evident in staffing is a barrier to departments having the internal capacity to make meaningful changes. For example, in the Greater Montreal Area, the Diversity Institute recorded only 2.2% of public sector senior leadership positions were filled by racialized people in 2019.
It’s something Minaz Asani-Kanji, Manager of Outreach at Park People, has also noticed. “You don’t often see Black people or people of color in these positions. From the park supervisors to even the people that are hired for the summer.”
Some cities have hired specialized staff members to bring in new perspectives and lead equity-related initiatives. In Thunder Bay, the Indigenous Inclusion and Relations Manager and Indigenous Liaison have begun discussions on how to decolonize and Indigenize public space. Projects such as the Northwood Splash Pad have benefitted from such targeted engagement. And in Edmonton, the Indigenous Framework is a result of a co-creation process with Indigenous communities that includes commitments such as removing barriers to employment for Indigenous people.
While these are important steps, Asani-Kanji pointed out it may still not reach people who don’t realize working in parks or urban green spaces is even an option for them. Jacqueline Scott described these as “information barriers” or “privileged knowledge.” Not only are certain communities less likely to see themselves working in parks departments, they may not also have access to existing connections to staff and necessary information that would make them successful in obtaining those positions. Building those relationships is part of the critical work Asani-Kanji does at Park People. Doing intentional outreach to underserved communities through Park People’s Sparking Change program, she supports leaders in these communities to bring their park project to life by giving them the tools to navigate parks departments.
Crucial works that build capacity and relationships hint at the heart of these issues: power imbalances.
Lourdenie Jean, founder of “L’environnement, c’est intersectionnel” (“The Environment, It’s Intersectional”) aims to address this directly. In her work, Lourdenie applies an intersectional lens to better understand which communities are marginalized and how.
“We see these power dynamics everywhere, even in parks and green spaces. Racism, sexism and capitalism are always present.” This is true at every level, affecting neighbourhoods, community organizations, and municipalities alike. These are the uncomfortable conversations that may invoke fear but should be met with bravery instead. From them, we see bold ideas arise.
Urban planner Lena Philips offers some ideas for the community organizations ready to allocate resources more intentionally. She writes a necessary first step is to compensate leaders who step up for their labour. In seeking to support their communities, Philips writes that organizations should rethink the criteria they use in funding and program applications to recognize the wealth of expertise BIPOC communities have.
Communities have also been organizing to organically build power from outside of formal institutions. This has taken many forms, though often through empowering community members to lead.
In Halifax, the social enterprise Hope Blooms provides diverse programming to youth centered around agriculture that tends to the lack of food security among its residents and enables youth to become leaders in their community.
The Ethọ́s Lab directly engages Black youth in Vancouver through mentorship opportunities so they can design and create spaces that feel safe for them. In both of these initiatives, emerging leaders are soon able to name and advocate against the power structures that marginalize their communities. Ultimately, Lourdenie Jean reminds people that sharing power should be everyone’s goal as “centering those on the margins is beneficial for everyone”.
As the protests and barricades happen less frequently, it can be easy for people not directly affected by these issues to think the work is over. Of 32 parks departments surveyed for this year’s report, only five (17%) said addressing systemic inequities and discrimination in parks was a major challenge, while eight (27%) said it was a minor challenge.
This is where policymakers and organizations such as Park People have a responsibility to contribute. In June 2020, we released our statement committing to internal processes responding to racism in all of its forms. Since then, Park People has been undertaking work on this, documenting our progress here.
Through these more formal and informal coalitions of changemakers, the voices of Black, Indigenous, and people of colour continue to remain louder than ever. Scott summarized this sentiment brilliantly: “And so for me, for these organizations: you have an opportunity now. Or are you hoping that it will go away? Because my sense is that we are not going to go away.”
This case study is part of the 2022 Canadian City Parks Report, showcasing Inspiring projects, people, and policies from across Canada that offer tangible solutions to the most pressing challenges facing city parks.
As encampments grow across the country, parks departments face a unique challenge: parks have become a highly visible site of the housing crisis, but permanent housing solutions lie outside the scope of what parks can offer.
However, as convenors, land stewards, and providers of public amenities, parks departments can lean into their strengths to play a positive role in addressing houselessness—from adopting a human rights approach to service provision, to deepening relationships with encampment residents.
“Since the start of Covid-19, encampments have proliferated and increased in size,” said Dr. Alexandra Flynn, a University of British Columbia professor who has studied cities’ responses to encampments during the pandemic. “It’s put more pressure on Canadian cities to have to engage with encampments.”
In our survey of municipalities, 90% said houselessness is a challenge—one unlikely to end anytime soon.
Experts including frontline workers, people with lived experience of houselessness, and public health professionals all emphasize the urgency of planning for these realities.
“Hopefully it’ll be an ending problem, but for the foreseeable future I can still see there being people sleeping in parks. And it’s sad, but it’s a reality we have to face,” said Matthew Huxley, an advocate with lived experience.
Diana Chan McNally of Toronto Drop-In Network agreed, noting “Even when the intentions are good, there’s always the push to move unhoused people out of parks. You have to abandon that altogether. You just do, because I think the reality is that… there’s absolutely nowhere else for people to go.”
Public health experts echo this advice. Experts urge cities to plan for encampments to enhance the resiliency of parks systems, as unsheltered houselessness is projected to grow in light of climate change, including more people turning to green spaces for relief during heatwaves.
As we wrote about in the 2020 Canadian City Parks Report, displacement-oriented approaches—ranging from defensive design to encampment evictions—cause harm in a number of ways. Pushing unhoused people out of parks can force them to seek shelter in more isolated spaces where they are subject to increased safety risks, and make it more difficult for outreach workers to stay connected with people they’re supporting.
Further, in a context where Indigenous Peoples are disproportionately affected by housing insecurity—representing 28-34% of the unhoused population despite accounting for just over 4% of the Canadian population—displacing people from parks represents ongoing colonial violence and land dispossession, undermining reconciliation efforts.
While there is a widespread perception that encampments prevent others from enjoying parks, our survey of over 3,000 Canadian city residents suggest this is not the case for most.
62% of respondents who noticed encampments in local parks said they had not negatively impacted their park use, pointing to an openness among park goers to share space with unhoused neighbours.
Encampments are often managed through an operational lens, with a focus on park upkeep. While this work is important, it is insufficient to address the complex needs of people sheltering in parks.
Vancouver is deepening their approach through the creation of a new position within the Park Board called the Director of Urban Relationships. A first-of-its-kind role in Canada, the position will focus on building relationships with encampment residents and community partners.
Donnie Rosa, General Manager of the Vancouver Park Board, said that the new position sends a clear message that “this is a line of business that we have” as city park professionals. Having this dedicated staff with appropriate expertise will alleviate pressures on the parks operations team, who often are tasked with responding to houselessness issues.
The new position comes after the Park Board led a process in partnership with the City of Vancouver and BC Housing to move residents of a large encampment at Strathcona Park to indoor accommodations in spring of 2021. However, new encampments that have arisen since then highlight the ongoing need for this work.
In engaging with the Strathcona Park encampment, the Park Board’s approach was guided by four key values: harm reduction, trauma-informed response, reconciliation, and collaboration. In practice, these values looked like relying on social workers rather than police officers, having Park Board staff participate in a ceremonial fire protocol led by Indigenous Elders when entering the encampment, and being mindful of language—for instance, recognizing objects in the park as people’s belongings rather than garbage.
Staying true to these values was not easy within colonial systems, Rosa acknowledged. Meetings with encampment residents could run for several hours on some days, as people had important stories to share with parks staff.
“That’s not how we work. We go from meeting to meeting to meeting,” Rosa said, but these moments were critically important for them and their team.
“As colonizers, but also as the institutions we represented, and we needed to hear it, we needed to spend that time.”
Rosa emphasized that in order to do this work thoughtfully, it’s necessary to be flexible with structure and timelines. “We need to support each other in saying, it’s okay to take this approach, it’s okay to put somebody’s wellness ahead of a deadline.”
Many cities are beginning to adopt a human rights-based approach to houselessness, which focuses on ensuring unhoused people have access to essential amenities and services in parks. For example:
Parks staff, who are often trained in areas like recreation, natural resource management, or landscape architecture rather than social work or community development, may feel ill-equipped to respond to houselessness, Rosa noted.
Indeed, through our survey of 30 municipalities, 56% identified a lack of knowledge or training about houselessness among parks staff as a barrier. Some cities, like Gatineau and Toronto, mentioned recent initiatives to train parks staff in understanding houselessness.
However, Rosa encourages parks staff to recognize the strengths that they do bring: “we’re community developers, we’re community connectors, and we need to use that in this setting to bring people together, create space for that dialogue.”
Fostering a culture of humility, dialogue, and collective learning has been crucial for the Vancouver Park Board in upholding these guiding values. “I learned more … through this process than I could ever have learned going to any sort of course or training,” Rosa said. “Just living those values and making mistakes. And then holding those mistakes up and saying, how can we be better?”
One of the Park Board’s missteps, Rosa noted, is that after campers moved out of Strathcona Park, staff cleared the remaining tents and belongings, thinking they were abandoned. In retrospect, Rosa wishes they had allowed more time for the process to consult with campers and ensure they were only removing items campers were ready to part with.
Taking the opportunity to involve campers in the park remediation process through a peer employment model was another learning for next time. Former encampment residents wanted to be a part of healing the park after their departure, Rosa noted.
A recent York University report highlights that cities have two sets of powers to address encampments: formal legal powers, like bylaws, and soft powers, like city messaging that shapes how the public thinks about encampments.
Parks departments are well positioned to leverage these soft powers to reframe the narrative on encampments. This work is especially important given that 70% of cities reported managing public complaints as a challenge they encounter in responding to houselessness. By cultivating parks as places of public education, cities can not only increase awareness and comfort around sharing space, but also help curb public complaints and alleviate the burden they place on parks staff.
In Gatineau, for example, the city’s recent houselessness action plan identifies “Improving the way we share space and facilitating cohabitation in public space” as a key area of focus. Their efforts so far have included forming neighbourhood-based ‘cohabitation committees’ that work with local stakeholders including social service organizations, residents, and businesses to promote public education on issues related to houselessness.
“What we do on the cohabitation committee is destigmatization,” said Julie Sénéchal, Community Development Coordinator in the Recreation, Sports and Community Development Department at the City of Gatineau. This focus came from unhoused people who participate in the committee, who identified “the issue of prejudice and how they experience it” as an important priority, Sénéchal said.
The first committee was formed in the Île de Hull neighbourhood where a green space co-managed by the National Capital Commission, ministère des Transports du Québec, and City of Gatineau is used as a campsite for unhoused residents. A high school adjacent to the green space was one of the key partners on the committee. The students surveyed their peers to understand their questions and concerns about houselessness. Based on the students’ input, the cohabitation committee is creating informative video clips to educate neighbours to increase their comfort in sharing space.
Public space programs are also helping to support inclusion. The city hosts clean-up activities in partnership with community organizations and residents of the campsite. They are also planning an urban agriculture work program that would hire unhoused people as gardeners in partnership with a local service organization.
The plan is still in its early stages of implementation, and Sénéchal noted that meaningful, ongoing engagement with unhoused communities will be crucial to its success.
“You have to meet people where they are, that’s my working method,” Sénéchal said. She is optimistic that the plan will help to lay the groundwork for stronger collaboration with unhoused communities, noting that it “allows [the city] to put in place tools that will promote real participation and to include people experiencing houselessness in the planning process.”
“[Unhoused people] know the city from a different perspective than us,” Sénéchal said. “[They] have things to say and we want to be sure to hear them.”
In Montreal, the Plateau-Mont-Royal borough is moving in a similar direction with its new plan for social cohabitation and sharing of public space*. The plan includes an accompanying information tool that outlines realities of houselessness and encourages residents to form friendly relationships with their unhoused neighbours by saying hello or sharing a coffee.
Community-led programs can also help reshape public perspective. In Montreal’s Martin-Luther-King Park, community organization Exeko hosted a photo expo* featuring portraits of unhoused residents to help spark conversation among park goers.
Park programs can be especially helpful in addressing controversial issues related to encampments. Initiatives like a stigma reduction event hosted in honour of International Overdose Awareness Day in Thunder Bay’s Kaministiquia River Heritage Park can help community members develop a more compassionate outlook on the issue of discarded needles in parks, for example.
Programs like these offer inspiration in moving toward a future where parks, and parks departments, are seen as part of the solution to houselessness. For Donnie Rosa, the challenge moving forward is to think about “How do we make this [park] something that is enjoyable and not just a respite? How can we make your stay, your time, your life here one that works for you the best way possible?” of people who care very deeply and passionately about these issues.” When communities and cities commit to working together better, it’s a powerful pairing for parks.
Key points:
As we wrote about in the 2021 Canadian City Parks Report, Covid-related closures of indoor spaces like restaurants, libraries, and gyms, pushed people to take their usual “indoor” activities outdoors to the park. Eating, using the washroom, and socializing with friends are just a few examples of basic everyday needs that people have increasingly looked to parks to fill throughout the pandemic.
With these changing uses has come a culture shift in how people view the purpose of parks. As Sara Udow, Co-Founder and Principal at engagement firm PROCESS put it, “Parks are used for basic human needs, not just recreation.” In our survey of over 3,000 residents of Canadian cities, 93% agreed that allowing people to meet basic needs is an important benefit parks provide.
Yet narrowly defined ideas of “acceptable uses” of parks, rooted in stigma and inequities along the lines of race, class, ability, and more, mean that not everyone is able to enjoy the benefits of parks in supporting everyday needs. Often those who rely on parks most—such as those experiencing housing precarity and other forms of marginalization—are those whose needs are overlooked or actively denied.
For example, while parks are used by many as a place for rest and relaxation, unhoused residents are often met with enforcement and displacement when this rest extends overnight. And despite growing interest in planning parks with a public health lens, people who use substances are often excluded through hostile design features, like blue lighting in washrooms, that go against public health guidance.
However, cities and communities are beginning to recognize and address these inequities through programs that centre the well-being of those most often excluded. By challenging orthodoxies around service provision, enforcement, and environmental design, these initiatives point a way forward in creating parks that better care for all.
While addressing basic needs through features like washrooms is necessary, a focus on “meeting needs” can sometimes obscure what people experiencing marginalization have to offer to the community, said Azkaa Rahman, Strategic Planning Analyst at the City of Edmonton.
“There’s huge deficit thinking and [a focus on] managing needs rather than seeing the gifts, assets, resources and strengths that people have to give, share and exchange.”
Azkaa Rahman, Strategic Planning Analyst at the City of Edmonton
Rahman works with RECOVER Urban Wellbeing, a city-led initiative that aims to create the conditions for well-being for all people, especially people experiencing houselessness or marginalization in Edmonton. The framework that underpins RECOVER’s work is rooted in social ethnographic research with 59 street-involved Edmontonians that uncovered the elements that they consider most important to their sense of wellness.
Their research found that social and psychological needs—respect, family and connection, and purpose—were more important to participants’ idea of wellness than material needs. As a result, the well-being framework centres relationships: nurturing healthy connections to people, land, self, culture, the human project, and the sacred.
Each year, RECOVER launches and evaluates a series of ‘social prototypes’ to test different approaches to enhancing well-being, many of which take place in parks and outdoor spaces.
The 2021 projects include The Gallery, a public art project spotlighting the work of Indigenous artists with lived experience of houselessness with an explicit goal of building relationships between business owners and street-involved Edmontonians. Another example is Soloss, a prototype which hired and trained community members as ‘Losstenders’ to help peers work through grief. In developing the idea for the Losstender role, the project team hosted pop-up events in Churchill Square and Camp Pekiwewin, an Indigenous-led encampment, to seek community members’ input. Through the resulting program, Losstenders guide peers through healing using art, music, breathwork, dance or storytelling, addressing a gap as “professional services cannot replace the value of community care and support.”
Across Canada, 48% of cities said they had initiated at least one program to provide social services in parks. New park programs have popped up to meet basic needs such as food security, healthcare, and survival gear, while bringing a community focus:
Amid growing concerns around the role of police and enforcement in parks, care-centred models can provide an alternative form of community safety.
Vancouver’s Sweetgrass Clan runs a grassroots, Indigenous-led community safety patrol in the city’s Downtown Eastside. Modelled after Winnipeg’s Bear Clan Patrol, the group aims to provide a positive presence in the neighbourhood’s public spaces, offering de-escalation and conflict resolution rooted in traditional teachings.
Robbie Epp, the group’s Founder, sees this model as an alternative to policing that will “take the violence out of our situation, and de-stress a lot of people on the streets.”
“A big thing in our teachings is … that the best way for us to take care of our children is to have patience and respect, to try to teach them by talking to them and being examples,” Epp said, “so I knew there was another approach.”
In addition to crisis intervention, Sweetgrass Clan hosts events that help bring the community together, like a BBQ in Strathcona Park hosted in partnership with the East Van Skate Crows. Epp said that these types of events can be important in helping to foster awareness and understanding among neighbours, noting that “the toughest [part of his work] is actually communicating with residents” to help them understand the realities of Indigenous people who are street involved.
At the same time, green spaces can be healing for vulnerable people, Epp said. “Where people feel safest is when we come together in a park,” he said, “you can see people are just sitting on grass and they’re relaxed, wiggling their feet and toes around … and that’s what we need.”
Other cities are also beginning to experiment with non-police public space patrols. In Montreal, a pilot project in the Ville-Marie borough has seen a mobile team of eight psychosocial responders created to support mediation, de-escalation, and conflict resolution in public spaces.
In implementing these types of programs, it’s important to make sure that the precise duties of these staff are made clear to the public, including encampment residents, said UBC Professor Dr. Alexandra Flynn. A recent report Dr. Flynn co-authored on encampments in Toronto found that the city’s parks ambassadors are described on the city’s website as “an authorized messenger or representative… of goodwill,” when in fact, they are trained to work closely with enforcement officials to monitor and report encampment-related issues. “If that is the purpose of these positions,” Dr. Flynn said, “then that needs to be more clearly stated as the goal by municipalities.”
In a recent research project Park People undertook in partnership with students at University of Toronto’s School of Cities, we found that designing parks that support the well-being and inclusion of unhoused communities requires ‘unlearning’ common design approaches.
For example, we heard from people with lived experience of houselessness that the idea of ‘eyes on the street’ popularized by urbanist Jane Jacobs is problematic for people who live out their private lives in parks. Also known as ‘natural surveillance’, creating clear sightlines to minimize privacy in parks is often thought of as a ‘best practice’ from the perspective of design philosophies like crime prevention through environmental design (CPTED)—a strategy which 76% of cities we surveyed said they use.
But for people who are denied access to private spaces like homes, having visual protection, like bushes or shrubs, is necessary. “To be constantly in the public eye … is so humiliating—to be constantly ignored, but also constantly surveilled,” said Diana Chan McNally, Training and Engagement Coordinator at Toronto Drop-In Network.
Daniela Mergarten, an advocate with lived experience, agreed that people need privacy in order to have “some autonomy” as well. Racial justice experts have similarly challenged the use of surveillance-based design strategies. As Amina Yasin wrote, CPTED has “historically criminalized Black, Indigenous, and poor people in public space.”
Instead of inherently untrusting approaches to design that promote surveillance between neighbours or attempt to control behaviours, we heard that park design should centre trust, care, and dignity.
This includes taking a harm reduction approach to supporting the well-being of people who use substances. Hannah Leyland, an Intern Architect in Vancouver with expertise in the design of drug consumption spaces, said that purpose-built amenities like sharps containers and safer public washrooms can not only save lives but also help to destigmatize addiction. Having these features in parks “sends a message to the neighbours that [people who use substances] are valued within our community,” Leyland said.
It also includes allowing people to hang out in parks—both alone and together. We heard from unhoused people that the absence of amenities like comfortable benches, covered gazebos, and picnic areas makes it difficult for people to meet basic needs like resting and socializing in a dignified way. Public space researcher Cara Chellew calls this absence “ghost amenities,” noting that these features are intentionally left out in park design as they’re thought to attract “undesirable behaviour” like “loitering.”As the authors of Care and the City write, “Deeply caring about others … [is] an exercise which can be best trained in open and accessible spaces that provide room for caring with, caring for, and caring about one another.” Through taking an intentional approach to park programming and design, we can realize the potential of parks as places that care for all.mmit to working together better, it’s a powerful pairing for parks.
As advocates have pushed for action on issues ranging from policing, to houselessness, to racial justice, the past two years have brought to light fractured relationships, mistrust, and frustration. But equally, these efforts have highlighted that communities are eager to have their voices heard.
“There’s much more attention that’s being placed on the city and the city’s choices by residents and by advocacy communities,” said Dr. Alexandra Flynn, a University of British Columbia professor and municipal governance expert. Dr. Flynn noted that parks have been a key space of protest and pushback and “expectations are very high that municipalities are going to be responsive.”
At the same time, however, the pandemic has turned park engagement on its head. When Covid-19 first hit, in-person consultations became impossible, leading cities to go virtual, with 81% reporting increased use of online engagement methods.
But the impacts on park engagement go deeper than the shift from in-person to online.
Early in the pandemic, cities rushed to establish pilot projects, like converting streets into pop-up parklets and loosening bylaws on alcohol consumption. In the urgency to respond to emerging needs, engagement was often rushed or bypassed altogether. Fast forward to this year: 92% of cities we surveyed said that they had extended or made permanent at least one park pilot program initiated in response to Covid.
Dr. Flynn, who studied municipal governance during the pandemic, terms this shift in engagement “pop-up governance.”
“It’s easy to be in favour of pop-up governance when you really like the outcome,” Dr. Flynn said, noting that public space expansions have been popular among many urbanists. But the process is inherently undemocratic, said Dr. Flynn, noting that cities “leveraged the pandemic, in some ways, to not engage.”
For Dr. Flynn, this raises questions about “why did [these projects] have to happen without engagement? And does that speak to larger issues with the existing processes?” In her view, “governance models even outside of the pandemic, in most jurisdictions, really aren’t able to appropriately address the engagement needs of people who want to be weighing in” on park decision-making.
Indeed, our survey results found that only 22% of city residents feel they have the ability to influence what goes on in their local park—a decrease from 34% in last year’s report.
As cities shift from addressing immediate pandemic needs to planning for the future, there is an opportunity to rethink community engagement to give communities more decision-making power on the park issues that affect them most, said Koa Thornhill, a Program Manager at Park People with expertise working with equity-deserving communities.
As Thornhill put it, grassroots advocacy movements during the pandemic have “brought us to this beautiful point of thinking about, how do we decentralize some of the power that exists in [institutional] spaces?”
Shifting power means moving beyond one-off project-based consultations toward ongoing relationship-building with communities. This requires recognizing and valuing that communities know their needs best.
Zahra Ebrahim, Co-founder of Monumental and Park People Board Chair, said that investing time and resources in building meaningful community relationships upfront is well worth the effort “so that when you actually get to those places where you do need to do some really acute engagement… There are deep relationships.” As Ebrahim put it, “It’s a reorientation to how we come together and build partnerships—that is, going slow to go fast.”
The City of Edmonton is putting this approach into practice. Through their RECOVER Urban Wellness initiative, city-supported ‘social prototypes’ explore creative models for engaging with equity-deserving communities. One of the 2021 prototypes, called Auricle, asks “what would it look like for a city to engage citizens in more humble and authentic ways, deeply listening and understanding what wellbeing means to them?”
The project involved hiring a team of 10 Local Listeners—community members living in Edmonton’s Alberta Avenue neighbourhood—to engage neighbours using storytelling methods. Through this process, the Listeners collected over 150 stories, which were then shared back to the community at an event called Knowsy Fest. The festival, a celebration of community knowledge, invited residents to interpret the stories themselves, and share ideas for how the city might use their insights.
Azkaa Rahman, Strategic Planning Analyst at the City of Edmonton and part of the RECOVER team, said that this kind of community engagement “requires a paradigm shift towards deeply recognizing that relationships move at the pace of trust.”
“Having the time and resources dedicated to relationship building can be tough when we’re on taxpayers’ dime,” Rahman said. “Given that impact isn’t seen in the immediate term, people may have a hard time justifying why just ‘listening’ and fostering relationships is worthwhile.” But for Rahman, this approach is essential to make meaningful change in communities.
When it comes to building relationships, it’s important to be sensitive to neighbourhood dynamics, said Dr. Flynn. Connecting with communities that have been historically well-served by government may be relatively straightforward, but “there’s a lot of communities who don’t share that same trust,” she said.
To understand the unique priorities that exist in each neighbourhood, Ebrahim and her colleagues suggest that cities undertake neighbourhood-based “equity impact assessments” every few years.
This would involve co-creating neighbourhood profiles using demographic data to provide insight into how to tailor engagement methods to meet local needs—such as providing childcare where there’s a high proportion of single parents, or translating materials into commonly spoken languages.
Brampton’s Nurturing Neighbourhoods platform provides a useful model for relationship and trust building. The program was created in response to a commitment in the Brampton 2040 Vision strategy to conduct neighbourhood audits to identify priorities for ongoing, incremental improvements in neighbourhoods based on collaboration with residents.
For 2021, the Nurturing Neighbourhoods program offered guided virtual walking tours in each of the city’s neighbourhoods. The tours highlighted local parks, businesses, and community spaces, and emphasized ways residents could engage in their community. The tours were complemented by neighbourhood-specific online surveys and interactive mapping tools which invited residents to mark locations where they have concerns or ideas for improvement. The insights generated are then used to create a long-term action plan for each neighbourhood.
Kelowna is also moving toward a neighbourhood-centred approach to community engagement. The city is working with neighbourhood associations to “decentralize park programming [and] introduce park amenities and programs that better reflect the needs of the local community,” city staff said.
Koa Thornhill echoed the importance of cities committing to “hav[ing] strong ties to local organizations,” and also pointed out the opportunity to connect with residents directly through existing on-the-ground staff.
Parks maintenance staff, for example, could see it as their role to maintain human relationships the same way they maintain the grass. Thornhill recommended providing on-the-ground parks staff with “training to maintain and navigate relationships.” She noted it could boost morale by “help[ing] them see that community members are really grateful for the work that they do and it doesn’t go unseen.”
In thinking through how to strengthen relationships with communities, results from our national survey of 150 community park groups provide insight on how municipalities can move forward.
63% of cities said they had a strong relationship with local community park groups, but when asked the same question, only 44% of community groups said they had a strong relationship with the city. This number was even lower, at 38%, for groups that identified as equity-deserving. This discrepancy highlights that community relationships may not be as strong as city staff perceive.
The good news is that 83% of community groups said they’d be interested in deepening their relationship with their municipality. When asked what cities could offer to support community groups’ work, some common themes emerged:
Above all, what groups are looking for is to be recognized as valued collaborators working toward a shared goal of ensuring that parks best serve communities. As one group put it, “We need municipalities to trust us; the people who look after these spaces often are the most knowledgeable about what it needs because we are there every day.”
Dr. Alexandra Flynn is hopeful that we can work toward this future, noting that “municipalities are full of lots of people who care very deeply and passionately about these issues.” When communities and cities commit to working together better, it’s a powerful pairing for parks.
Park engagement has been transformed by the pandemic. In our survey, 92% of cities said Covid has changed how they engage communities, and 23% said engagement has become a greater priority since the start of the pandemic.
As we’ve written elsewhere in the Canadian City Parks Report, it’s not just the format of engagement that has changed as cities shift from in-person to online methods. Cities are also sharpening their focus on building relationships with groups that have historically been left out, with 35% reporting that the pandemic has prompted more intentional outreach to equity-deserving groups.
“There is new awareness about systemic inequity, and creating equity in our park system means talking with those most affected.”
City staff, Gelph
This work is needed. Our public survey showed that equity-deserving groups face disproportionate barriers to participating in city-led park planning processes. Overall, the top three barriers respondents cited were: being unsure of how to get involved (36%), unsure if their participation would make a difference (31%), and not having enough time to participate (28%). These percentages were higher for respondents who identified as Black, Indigenous or a person of colour (BIPOC), at 48%, 35%, and 36%, respectively.
Cities and community groups across the country are responding to these barriers through creative methods that put equity at the fore.
It is vital to involve communities in deciding what the engagement process looks like, said Jennifer Chan, Co-founder and CEO of the Department of Imaginary Affairs (DIA) . Last summer, the organization led a project called A Tale of Two Parks to surface stories of safe and unsafe experiences that exist at the same park. Through the project, six racialized youth were hired as Social Researchers to engage park goers, especially BIPOC communities, in two Toronto parks.
Through conversations with community members at the park, the DIA team learned that park goers often have great ideas for changes they’d like to see, but community members often felt that “it doesn’t really matter what our ideas are, since the city doesn’t care about us” Chan said. “This statement really struck me in thinking about, how can we meaningfully engage with community when the starting perspective is that ‘the city doesn’t care about us?'”
In response, the DIA designed a participatory planning game called “What if Parks Were Designed By Us?” The game allows participants to experience and define a months-long planning process in a matter of minutes. It invites community members to work together to develop their own planning process, strengthening their ability as a community to identify issues, build a unified vision, and even practice dealing with monkey wrenches getting thrown into their plan.
By gamifying the planning process, DIA aims to reduce barriers to existing planning processes as well envision new possibilities for park engagement, shifting away from traditional mechanisms like town halls “where all the power is held by the city, not with the community,” Chan said.
The City of Toronto has been engaging residents for the Toronto Island Park Master Plan since 2020, which will set out a new vision for a beloved destination park accessible by ferry just minutes from downtown. It’s a signature project that involves many stakeholders, as the Island is meant to serve all Torontonians.
A key priority for the engagement team is embedding an equity lens throughout the process. “Equity really is framed by identifying who is and who isn’t at the table,” said Daniel Fusca, the city’s Manager of Consultation for Parks, Forestry and Recreation.
The process started with a pre-engagement phase—a new approach for the division. This involved meeting with relevant community organizations, Indigenous partners, and other departments within the city, to get a sense of their priorities and determine how they wanted to be involved.
The pre-engagement phase “goes against most people’s instincts of what is appropriate engagement,” Fusca said. There’s an expectation, rooted in conventional engagement practices, to “put something in front of the public for them to react to or else it’s a waste of their time.”
“It took a bit of work to convince everybody that this is actually a good idea,” Fusca said. “There’s a bit of getting people out of their comfort zone.”
The pre-engagement with the Mississaugas of the Credit First Nation (MCFN) and other Indigenous partners was especially vital given the significance of the Islands as a sacred place of healing and ceremony. Through these conversations, the city heard about the importance of incorporating ceremony into the engagement events, and re-working their land acknowledgment to recognize the waters as well as the lands.
They also heard that each Indigenous partner had different collaboration preferences. Some rights holders preferred regular meetings with the city. For the urban Indigenous communities, they’ve held sharing circles during each phase which are led by an Indigenous facilitator—something the community identified as important.
Lori Ellis, Project Officer of Strategic Projects, acknowledged that the pre-engagement took time and required them to adjust their original scope of work. “But it’s worth its weight in gold in regards to building that foundation of trust and transparency,” she said, noting that the city is now looking to incorporate a pre-engagement phase into future projects.
It’s also laid a foundation for ongoing collaboration with different communities to share back how their input has been used. The project team has tried to make these touchpoints meaningful by tailoring them to the community’s specific interests and input, Fusca said. “We would hone in the presentation to just focus on the things that were most meaningful to them and try to reflect back anything they told us,” he shared.
Constantly scanning to “identify the key voices that are still missing, and to do our best to address that” has been another strategy at the heart of the city’s approach, Fusca said. For example, after identifying that youth and racialized communities living outside of the downtown core were underrepresented in the first phase of engagement, they developed a Youth Ambassador Program.
The program hired a team of 10 youth between the ages of 15 to 27 who collectively spoke nine different languages and lived in neighbourhoods outside of the downtown core. They were provided with training and a budget to design their own outreach program to engage their communities.
Pablo Muñoz, a Senior Public Consultation Coordinator for the city who has previous experience as a youth worker, noted the important role youth play as conduits of information to and from the community. “For a lot of immigrant and refugee families, children and youth tend to be the connection to the Canadian English-speaking world. They tend to be the translators, and in many ways, have a big leadership role,” he said. This is a finding echoed in recent Park People research that explored barriers to park engagement in Vancouver’s equity-deserving neighbourhoods.
Another learning from the process is that despite the breadth of audiences involved in the project, it’s been important to hold space to go deeper through small group workshops centred on equity.
Some workshops included visioning exercises guided by Bob Goulais, an Anishinaabe facilitator, where participants closed their eyes to envision the future of the Islands. “It’s a much different way than bureaucratic engagement, where we’re going inwards and acknowledging a little bit more of the soul and the spirit,” said Muñoz.
Other initiatives included an “equity and belonging deep-dive,” and a video interview with activists and historians about the LGBTQ2S+ history of Hanlan’s Point, a clothing-optional beach on the Islands.
At these sessions, “the turnout would be smaller, but the conversation would be much richer. None of these conversations ever went the way you thought that they were going to go. And they always were incredibly meaningful,” Muñoz said.
What other cities are doing:
Zahra Ebrahim, Co-founder of Monumental and Park People Board Chair, said that when it comes to deepening engagement, in many ways cities are “set up to fail.” Through research to inform the Making Space toolkit—a resource for engaging equity-deserving communities in planning processes—Ebrahim and her team learned that cities may face internal barriers to implementing meaningful processes.
However, many of these issues could be addressed through “simple intervention points,” Ebrahim said:
The ongoing discoveries of unmarked graves has forced Canada to reckon with its ongoing legacy of residential schools as part of the colonial tactics that strived for Indigenous erasure. Municipalities, street names, secondary and post-secondary institutions have all been under pressure to change names that step away from the colonial figures they were named after.Canada was born the moment settlers began claiming land, creating borders, and dispossessing First Nations, Métis and Inuit peoples. And while the ongoing effects of colonization can look vastly different across geographies, the prairies in particular trace land theft and displacement of Indigenous livelihood to agricultural opportunities that allowed white settlement to prosper. For Indigenous Peoples, this meant a violent history of land extraction, residential schools, and starvation methods through buffalo extinction and government policy.Inherently, cities remain a site of dispossession, and the land on which city parks exist are no exception. Nahomi Amberer reminds us of the pre-existing relationship with land Indigenous people held prior to contact, and how this relationship was undermined by land dispossession by European settlers, including land used today for parks. “Dividing up land was central to claiming ownership of a land already inhabited by Indigenous Peoples,” she wrote in last year’s Canadian City Parks Report. Indigenous Peoples continue to be reminded of these violent histories often; whether driving through the country or walking through an urban neighbourhood, place-names continue to honour colonial figureheads who played instrumental roles in the genocide against Indigenous populations. However, city spaces can also be a site of mass education. So, how do we create spaces that decentralize the colonial past and instead, promote Indigenous knowledges?
Over the past year, a handful of prairie city parks have taken steps towards decolonizing public spaces, making room for Indigenous histories in a way that hadn’t been done before. This is a particularly important step for prairie cities that reflect some of the highest urban Indigenous populations across the country. Further, city parks moving towards the process of decolonizing space provides urban Indigenous folks access to nature and ceremony without the barrier of having to leave the city.
Take Winnipeg – Canada’s largest urban Indigenous population – and the Indigenous Peoples Garden as a start. Anna Huard, Manager of Education and Programs at Assiniboine Park Conservancy described the Garden as a massive joint effort of community consultation, Matriarchs, Knowledge Keepers, Elders, and an Indigenous architecture firm. “It’s important that the consultation process on a project like this includes a lot of different connections,” she said. “As soon as others were able to help out, it started to feel like a community. We cannot just rely on one Indigenous spokesperson.”Native plant species helped guide the Garden’s development, and to further community inclusion, Indigenous youth also had a hand in planting trees and building boardwalks. The park includes fire and water nodes as well as interpretive signage that includes ancestral languages of Ojibway, Cree, Dakota, Oji-Cree, Michif, Dene and Inuktitut translations.
With last summer being the Garden’s launch, Huard is ready to see the space used more frequently for youth storytelling programs, language learning, and an Indigenous plants program that includes a guided tour and salve-making classes. Most importantly, Huard noted that the space provides urban Indigenous folks the opportunity to strengthen their understanding of land and culture within city limits.
The city of Regina also experienced a big leap forward in decolonizing park spaces recently. Last year, the city finally caved to public pressure to relocate the Sir. John A. MacDonald statue in Victoria Park in downtown Regina. Although grassroots initiatives and petitions for the statue’s removal have been circulating for a few years, the city’s website stated that in March of 2021, city council approved the relocation of the statue to storage, “while Administration proceeds with broader public engagement and working with partners to identify an appropriate future location and contextualization.”Further, the Buffalo Peoples Art Institute (BPAI), a grassroots community organization driven by social justice in Regina, played a significant role in advocating for the name change of an inner-city public park. In spring of last year, the city officially changed Dewdney Park in the North Central neighbourhood to Buffalo Meadows Park due to ongoing pressure from organizations like BPAI and public community support. The city also voted in favor to change Dewdney Pool to Buffalo Meadows Pool. Edgar Dewdney was a colonial figure who administered and oversaw residential school policies and the starvation crisis faced by Indigenous Peoples in Canada.Joely BigEagle-Kequahtooway, a member of the White Bear First Nation and a resident of Regina, said she started the Institute to help re-educate prairie learners about the significance of the buffalo’s presence before its erasure. She explained that Regina, often referred to as ‘Pile of Bones’ because of its creation literally being built on the bones of buffalo, must acknowledge the original histories of the land. “This was buffalo land before colonization,” she said.Advocating for the name change started a few years ago, and eventually led to public awareness campaigns through community barbeques and petition signing. After enough signatures were collected, the grassroots group and their allies presented the petition to the city council and the civic naming committee. The city vote to rename the park was successful, but the BPAI is still waiting for the approval to change a major street name, Dewdney Avenue to Buffalo Avenue, as well.The park’s name change encourages a reconnection to the land and is crucial for Regina’s north central community where many Indigenous people reside, BigEagle-Kequahtooway explained. “Even in an urban setting, our environment should reflect who we are as a community,” she said. “We need to determine whether the legacies of [colonial figures] are something we want to emulate or preserve for the future, and further question whether those names play a role moving forward in the spirit of Truth and Reconciliation.”
BPAI plans to continue to bring awareness to the buffalo’s history on the plains through public art installations, courses on preparing buffalo hides, and hosting an annual buffalo festival all in the newly named park.
The city of Edmonton also had a big year for centering Indigenous knowledges in parks as construction on the kihciy askiy park (Cree for Sacred Land) started in Whitemud Park last year.
The park has been 15 years in the making after the city received a proposal from the Indigenous Elders Cultural Resource Society outlining an urban cultural site where Indigenous people could practice cultural ceremony and learning opportunities. Although long overdue, the city’s website acknowledges that “long before becoming farmland, the kihciy askiy site was used for many centuries by the Indigenous people foraging for medicines for healing purposes.”After forming a Counsel of Elders in 2015 to work alongside a city project team, the city followed cultural leadership throughout the park’s entire design process. Alongside consultation from Elders and Knowledge Keepers, the city has also called upon the Truth and Reconciliation Commission’s Calls to Action, the MMIWG Calls for Justice, and United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples to help guide the work.“Consistent with Indigenous culture of respecting the land, the project is designed to be completely synchronized within its location in the Edmonton River Valley,” Chelsea Burden, City of Edmonton’s Project Manager shared. With this in mind, the city also conducted an Environmental Impact Assessment to ensure the construction of the site results in minimal destruction to native plant and tree species along the River Valley.
The park’s development plans include spaces for ceremony and sweats, the opportunity to grow medicinal native species plants, and the infrastructure to host culture camps and talking circles. The park plans to officially open in early 2023.
As more graves continue to be uncovered, the urgency to recognize Indigenous history and presence must be prioritized. Acknowledging that colonialism continues to have a devastating impact while actively making changes led by the Indigenous community with ancestral ties to the land are two processes that can and should happen in tandem.
For example, in January of 2022, Vancouver’s Park Board chair Stuart McKinnon presented a motion that calls for the co-management of city parks that fall under the traditional territory of the Musqueam, Squamish, and Tsleil-Waututh nations. “I think it’s important as we recognize reconciliation in this country, that the land Vancouver sits on was occupied land,” McKinnon shared in a CBC article.
There is still plenty of work left to undo the colonial violence of the past, and governments at the municipal, provincial and federal level should actively engage in meaningful Indigenous consultation to lead the creation of cultural learning spaces in city parks as a starting point. In order to achieve successful consultation, engagement strategies must build authentic relationships with multiple Indigenous community members and respectfully make space for varying Indigenous worldviews. Further, municipalities must acknowledge that empowering Indigenous community members to lead educational programming, park signage, language camps, and plant/medicine gardens also empowers the community as a whole. Doing so promotes a way forward that allows urban Indigenous presence to access aspects of ceremony and tradition, and in turn, allows non-Indigenous people to learn more about the original stewards of the lands they occupy.
And perhaps above all, working alongside one another in mutual respect is one way to honour the spirit in which Treaty relationships were built upon.
It’s a tale as old as time—or at least as old as parks department budgets. As cities grow, and more people use parks for different activities, park budgets—particularly operating budgets—become strained.
So what happens when park departments that were already experiencing constraints and aging infrastructure come face to face with a global pandemic?
In short: additional pressures, creative thinking, and a heightened focus on how we can plan together for more equitable park investments going forward.
For the second year, cities said Covid put pressure on already strained operations budgets—the money that funds work like cutting the grass. Budgets weren’t cut during the pandemic, but the additional public health-related tasks meant the same pot of money had to cover more things.
As Niall Lobley, Director of Parks and Cemeteries for the City of Kitchener said: park budgets have been “routinely stretched to the maximum extent possible—and have been even further stretched.”
“A “huge” amount of resources were invested during the pandemic into sanitation, extra staffing to monitor physical distancing and high use areas, litter pick-up, and mitigating damage done to natural areas from high use.”
Niall Lobley
In Regina, Parks Support Operations Coordinator Trevor Klein said staff worked hard to find room in existing budgets to launch programs like the winter cities program, which encouraged people to use parks during the colder months.
Klein also mentioned that service requests and expectations of park quality rose during the pandemic. People working from home had more time to visit local parks during the day, increasing their contact with parks staff while they were on the job. This led to an “increase in service requests and a higher level of expectation on [grass] cuts and trimmings and what facilities were available to residents,” Klein said.
At the same time, Klein said the department was dealing with reduced staff early in the pandemic due to a city directive to not hire additional casual staff in summer 2020. This meant training costs were higher when these staff were reintroduced in 2021. Indeed, 50% of cities noted that reduced staff was a challenge during the pandemic.
In Ottawa, city staff said Covid impacts started with “simple reductions to maintenance,” which was “in part to meet a departmental need to conserve funds as additional pressures were expected throughout 2020.”
These services were then adjusted to meet “changing needs,” which included a spike in waste collection costs that began in 2020 and continues today. City staff also said that some “parks operating funds were diverted to help compensate for Covid-related costs,” including portable washrooms and hand-washing stations.
It hasn’t been all bad, however. Some parks departments have been able to tap into Covid funding, particularly for active transportation projects such as trail enhancements or for local economic recovery through tourism funding.
While budgets on average have held steady during the pandemic, Kitchener’s Niall Lobley does worry about what future years hold as city governments begin to grapple with the budgetary fallout from high spending during the pandemic.
“I expect that we have some years where there is likely to be pain felt within tax-supported structures, whether that be at the municipal, provincial or federal level.”
“Traditionally speaking, those periods of payback can be quite hard on soft services like parks and recreation,” Lobley added. “We can see those suffering the more significant and earliest cuts in a time where we’ve seen very high levels of public spending that need to be recouped.”
It’s clear, however, that city residents want to see more, not less, investment: 87% of respondents to our survey of over 3,000 Canadian city residents said they wanted to see more public funding for parks. This included 36% who wanted to see more funding for maintenance and 35% for higher quality designs. Positioning parks as public health infrastructure and citing the rising importance of parks in the last two years for mental and physical health may be one way to ensure funding keeps pace.
In addition to being asked to do more with less, many cities also indicated that building and upgrading parks has become more expensive. In fact, 69% of cities said they had to delay capital projects due to Covid and 86% said cost increases were a challenge.
It’s difficult to attribute these rising costs solely to the pandemic, Lobley said, noting the trend had been in place before Covid. But the pandemic and recent supply chain challenges haven’t helped.
Lobley specifically mentioned playground costs, which have risen as much as 15% a year while “general infrastructure like benches, seats, picnic tables, and all those sorts of things are seeing cost increases as global supply chains are strained.”
Community expectations around park designs have also changed as park use increases, impacting the cost of design and construction.
“It’s not just a case of replacing a few pieces of playground equipment; these are much more comprehensive renewals of neighbourhoods parks.”
“I’m certainly foreseeing 2022 and beyond being very difficult in terms of bringing projects on time and on budget,” Lobley said.
Ottawa city staff also noted this long-term challenge, saying that, if sustained, rising costs may “reduce the number of renewal projects completed annually, or necessitate larger budgets for renewal to maintain existing service levels.”
In addition, staff said that, “extended lead times for parks materials have resulted in some project delays, but these longer lead times and cost increases are being built into our project planning process. Future projects may take longer to deliver, and may be more costly, but we will continue to adjust budgets and timelines based on market conditions.”
A key trend emerging from the pandemic has been a renewed focus on the already existing inequities in how parks are accessed and enjoyed. As parks were held up as critical places for mental health and community connection, it became harder not to notice how some neighbourhoods were greener than others.
Now, as cities begin to shift focus from immediate pandemic needs to longer-term planning, many are turning their energy towards new strategies that use equity-based metrics to guide park investment decisions for years to come.
The “single biggest focus and single biggest change in work focus” in Kitchener’s under-development Places and Spaces Strategy is the focus on equity-led investment, Lobley said.
“What I mean by that is making sure that we don’t just invest where the [development] money is, or invest where the new parks are being built, but that we are deliberately investing in areas which have been underserved in terms of park rehabilitations and new park developments. Our oldest parks are in communities that probably have the greatest need from a social perspective for those parks,” he said.
Consider the urban forest—a topic we explored in last year’s Canadian City Parks Report. Through city-wide mapping, Lobley said the city found some communities are over the city’s goal of 30% tree canopy, while some are sitting at less than half that level. “When we overlay two maps and see where we’ve got less canopy, these tend to be the equity-deserving communities—communities in high density developments, high population of rental apartments, lower socioeconomic status,” he said.
While Kitchener was already moving in this direction pre-pandemic, Lobley noted he “can’t help but think it’s at least partly influenced” by the pandemic, which put a heightened focus on equity.
The resurgence of the Black Lives Matter movement and the Land Back Camp advocating Indigenous land rights in Kitchener, helped raise both awareness and put pressure on decision-makers to act, Lobley said.
“I would say that the social movements we’ve seen grow through Covid have really allowed us to move [the equity-led focus] forward with a greater sense of urgency.”
Other Canadian cities are moving on this as well. Vancouver and Toronto both released park plans with equity-focused metrics in recent years. Regina’s Trevor Klein noted that the city’s forthcoming 25 year parks and open space master plan will focus on the equitable distribution of parks—not just the green space, but facilities and amenities like picnic spots.
In Ottawa, city staff pointed to the city’s new park master plan, which uses the Ottawa Neighbourhood Equity Index, a resource created by the Social Planning Council of Ottawa, as a lens through which park investment priorities can be made. City staff also said this equity-based approach will be important in the city’s forthcoming Greenspace and Urban Forest Master Plan and in its Climate Resilience Strategy.
While the impacts of the pandemic will likely continue to be felt for years to come, this sharpened focus on equitable investment will help cities plan more resilient park systems for the future.
While municipalities offer multiple ways for residents to get involved in budgets through town halls, surveys, and other activities, it’s often unclear how community input influences final decisions. Proponents of participatory budgeting hope to change that by providing a direct route for residents to make funding decisions.
Toronto, Kitchener, and Longueuil have piloted participatory budgeting processes in the past. On the positive side, participatory budgeting was found to promote higher rates of participation than traditional park engagement, but it also raised concerns about the potential to foster a competitive atmosphere among community members.
How to devise a transparent, fair, and inclusive participatory budgeting process is something Isabelle Gaudette has thought a lot about. Gaudette is the Coordinator for Participatory Processes for the Centre d’écologie urbaine de Montréal, which worked with the City of Montreal to devise and run its $10-million participatory budgeting program in 2021.
The city received 620 submissions from the public, which were whittled down based on feasibility to a final 35 that people voted on in June 2021. Projects had to be between $500,000 and $3 million, take place on city property, and “contribute to Montreal’s ecological and social transition” by addressing climate change, biodiversity, equity, or sustainable resource consumption. Montreal is continuing the program, Gaudette said, setting aside a budget of $60 million over the next three years.
The voting age was set to those above 12 years old and the process also allowed non-citizens to vote–in fact, approximately a quarter of those who voted were youth and non-citizens, Gaudette said. Voter turn-out met the project team’s goal of 1% of the population. While that may seem small, she said, it represents 20,000 people directly voting on budget decisions that are usually left to a handful of elected officials and city staff.
Participatory budgeting also shows how the priorities of the public may differ from those of city officials, Gaudette said. The seven winning projects included mini forests, urban agriculture, green laneways, and more. But the second most voted on improvement was adding 125 water fountains and filling stations to parks in six boroughs.
“I don’t think that the professionals, the elected officials, would have said: “we are going to put drinking fountains in each park”. It seems basic, but that’s what people chose. It is a basic need.”
Isabelle Gaudette, Coordinator for Participatory Processes for the Centre d’écologie urbaine de Montréal
Gaudette’s advice for participatory budgeting:
Most Canadian cities offer a grant or matching fund program for residents who want to undertake public space projects, ranging from small events to larger infrastructure projects.
However, many of these grant programs were thrown into uncertainty when park amenities were closed or restricted due to Covid and public health guidelines discouraged gathering.
Recognizing this, the City of Waterloo introduced temporary changes to some of its community grants. This included more flexibility in how funds could be used (for example, buying personal protective equipment for volunteers), reducing matching fund requirements in recognition that volunteer hours may be more difficult to contribute, and encouraging projects that addressed public health, community well-being, and social isolation. Waterloo city staff said that these “changes were an important step to help remove barriers and to encourage unique and safe ways for the community to lead opportunities for connection.” Projects funded through the Neighbourhood Matching Fund included additional park seating, community message boards, and expanding community gardens. A mini-grant providing up to $300 also supported small-scale park events such as an ice cream social with rapid test pop-up.
In Hamilton, the city is testing a new approach with its Placemaking Grant pilot program. Made possible by a $100,000 donation by the Patrick J. McNally Charitable Foundation, Program Manager Sarah Ehmke said it specializes in “creative, temporary ways of activating public spaces.”
While conceived pre-Covid, Ehmke said the pandemic only made the program’s goals more relevant as people looked to engage in outdoor spaces. While the city only had funding for 10 to 12 projects, Ehmke spoke with 50 people proposing ideas. “A number of the proposals that we received…were directly in response to people’s experiences during Covid in public spaces,” she said.
One project in Hamilton Amateur Athletic Association Park included a local photographer who had taken photos (with permission) of people using the park in various ways during the pandemic. The grant funded a photo gallery in the park “to show the different ways people have been using the park during Covid,” Ehmke said. Photos showed dog walkers, kids playing, and people using park infrastructure as an outdoor gym.
To ensure projects were community- and equity-focused, the city encouraged applicants to propose projects in their own neighbourhoods and demonstrate partnerships to make sure the group had “considered the needs and wants and uses of public spaces beyond their own use.”
Ehmke’s advice for community grants:
While the federal government doesn’t have a long history of investing in city parks, two new funding initiatives have opened up new opportunities for collaboration.
National Urban Parks Program
While still in development, in 2021 the federal government announced a $130 million commitment over five years for Parks Canada to develop a National Urban Parks Program. This follows the federal government’s investment in 2012 to create the Greater Toronto Area’s Rouge National Urban Park.
“Urban parks represent the next evolution for Parks Canada, which has a long history of over 110 years of establishing national parks, national historic sites, and national marine conservation areas,” said Parks Canada Director of Urban Parks and Ecological Corridors Miriam Padolsky.
The new program, which the government views as part of its goal to conserve 25% of land and inland waters by 2025, will see Parks Canada work with governments, Indigenous partners, conservation organizations and other stakeholders to create or expand national urban parks in or near municipalities.
“National urban parks will offer a number of important benefits that align with Parks Canada priorities, including protecting biodiversity, contributing to climate resilience, connecting people with nature, and supporting reconciliation with Indigenous populations.”
Miriam Padolsky, Parks Canada Director of Urban Parks and Ecological Corridors
Healthy Communities Initiative
The Healthy Communities Initiative was a federally funded program with a unique structure that provided funding to community-based organizations to “create and adapt public spaces to respond to the new realities of COVID-19.” The $31-million program was managed by Community Foundations Canada (Park People was also a partner).
The program funded over 550 projects, but the demand was far greater. Over 6,000 applications were received, totalling $650 million in requested funding, showing how great a need there was–and is–for community-based public space funding.
Three quarters of the funding went to non-profits and charities, a point Community Foundations Canada emphasized in their final report: the initiative demonstrates “how small-scale innovations can have a big impact in communities to transform public spaces” and “how community-led infrastructure re-thinks social challenges and plays a critical role in providing innovative recovery solutions.”
The program included an equity guidance document prepared by Jay Pitter Placemaking for prospective grantees. This document has proven useful for other city-led granting programs as well, with the City of Hamilton referring grantees to the document in their Placemaking Grant pilot described earlier. When analyzing where grants went, Community Foundations Canada found that the communities most served by the initiative were “people experiencing low income or living in poverty, persons with disabilities, and newcomers.”
The full list of projects can be viewed on a map, but included initiatives by
This case study is part of the 2020 Canadian City Parks Report, showcasing Inspiring projects, people, and policies from across Canada that offer tangible solutions to the most pressing challenges facing city parks.
With their impressive array of social, health, and food security benefits, amenities like community gardens have become a staple in many cities. Community food infrastructure holds even greater value in times of crisis, as we saw when provinces like Ontario, British Columbia, and New Brunswick declared community gardens an essential service during COVID-19. As community resilience takes on heightened importance, roughly three quarters of cities reported demand for food opportunities in parks is also on the rise, creating an opening for cities to use food in parks to strengthen communities.
When Halifax was hit by Hurricane Dorian leaving residents without electricity, the Park Avenue Community Oven group in Dartmouth stepped up to provide pizza to the community at a local park’s bake oven. And in response to the COVID-19 crisis, Victoria temporarily reassigned park staff to grow up to 75,000 food plants for residents in need.
These examples showcase how park-based food amenities and the support networks they create offer “an important buffer from stressful life events,” as one 2019 study found. Yet it often falls upon community groups to advocate for features like community gardens after the park is built, said Alex Harned, Food Systems Coordinator at the City of Victoria, noting that this can be cumbersome and involve competing for space with other user groups.
Instead, Harned sees great potential for cities to start integrating these amenities into the (re)design phase as “a necessity within every park, and not just an afterthought.” While Harned noted this is largely “a shift that’s yet to happen,” we found some cities are taking steps in the right direction:
Whether a garden, bake oven, or edible forest, food amenities often depend on the maintenance and programming efforts of dedicated volunteers.
Cities can lend a helping hand by providing coordination and resources, as Victoria has since 2016 through Growing in the City. Created in response to community demand, GITC supports community-led food projects in green spaces—from small-scale commercial agriculture, to boulevard gardening, to fruit tree stewardship, and more.
GITC provides support to groups at the start-up phase and beyond. For example, the city helps connect community garden groups to available land and offer start-up funding (new in 2020), but also offers $10,000 grants for garden volunteer coordinators to ensure the work remains sustainable over time and to support garden-based programming.
All of this work is overseen by Victoria’s full-time Food Systems Coordinator—a unique role based out of the parks department, created as part of GITC. Other cities are also helping to coordinate garden groups, either directly or through partnerships:
While some enjoy the labours of gardening or running a bake oven, there is a need to ensure accessible food opportunities for those with less time to commit.
One way to do so is through providing free publicly accessible produce. A 2019 study of an edible orchard in Montreal found that food bearing plants can enhance residents’ social capital, place attachment, and food knowledge—all without requiring a high level of time, skill, or commitment.
Community groups across the country are showcasing how food can create a starting point for learning and connecting with one another.