Thursday, September 3, 2026

Where Did All the Senior Officials Go?

 Where Did All the Senior Officials Go?

Part 3 of 12 — Vancouver City Hall: Following the Paper Trail

Something has been happening at Vancouver City Hall that is difficult to ignore.

Senior people have been leaving.

That doesn't automatically mean something is wrong.

People retire.

People resign.

People are recruited elsewhere.

Administrations change.

Departments are reorganized.

Sometimes governments and senior executives simply decide they are no longer a good fit.

All of that is normal.

But when several senior positions change within a relatively short period of time — particularly positions with significant statutory, regulatory or administrative responsibilities — it's reasonable for citizens to ask:

What's happening?

And that's what we're going to look at.

Not rumours.

Not assumptions.

The timeline.


Let's start with the departures we can document.

2023 — Donnie Rosa

Donnie Rosa left his position as Vancouver's General Manager of Parks, Recreation and Culture in 2023.

Rosa had been a prominent senior City official and had served in the position during a period of major debate over parks, public space and municipal services.

His departure was publicly reported.


2023 — Theresa O'Donnell

Theresa O'Donnell, Vancouver's General Manager of Planning, also departed in 2023.

Again, a senior position.

Again, a major City department.

Again, a personnel change that matters because planning decisions affect virtually every Vancouver resident.


2025 — Paul Mochrie

Then came the departure of City Manager Paul Mochrie.

This one attracted considerably more attention.

The City Manager is effectively the senior administrative leader of the municipal government.

Mochrie's departure was handled through an agreed separation arrangement, rather than simply being described as an ordinary retirement.

The City subsequently released information about his separation agreement.

And soon afterward, Vancouver appointed Donny van Dyk as the new City Manager.

That raises legitimate questions about how Vancouver's most senior administrative position is managed.

But again:

A negotiated separation isn't evidence of wrongdoing.

We need to know what happened before deciding what it means.


2026 — More senior positions change

Then came a series of departures involving positions that are particularly interesting from a governance perspective.

Katrina Leckovic

Leckovic served as Vancouver's City Clerk.

The City Clerk's office isn't simply another administrative department.

It has important responsibilities relating to Council, legislative administration and elections.


Tina Penney

Tina Penney served as Deputy City Clerk and Director of Legislative Operations.

These are positions that sit close to the machinery of democratic government itself.

Both Leckovic and Penney left their positions in 2026 and were subsequently replaced.

The public explanation for personnel changes has been limited.

And that's where councillors began publicly questioning what was happening.


Pete Fry asked questions.

Green Councillor Pete Fry publicly questioned the departures and said he had not been given a compelling explanation for why Leckovic, Penney and Chief Building Official Saul Schwebs were no longer in their positions.

That's a statement from an elected councillor.

It is not proof that the departures were improper.

But it is evidence that there was disagreement among elected officials about how much information they were receiving.

And that's worth paying attention to.


Then there's Saul Schwebs.

Schwebs was Vancouver's Chief Building Official.

That position carries an important public-safety responsibility.

Building codes aren't abstract political arguments.

They concern whether buildings are designed and constructed in ways that protect the people who live and work inside them.

And Schwebs had publicly raised concerns about Single Egress Stair / Space Efficient Stair provisions.

His concern was that allowing certain residential buildings to rely on a single stair could increase life-safety risks by reducing alternatives for emergency evacuation and response.

Council ultimately approved the use of these stair configurations.

And in 2026, Schwebs left his position.


Is there a connection?

This is where we need to be extremely careful.

It's tempting to draw a straight line:

Schwebs raised safety concerns → Council approved the change → Schwebs left.

But a sequence is not proof of causation.

We don't currently have evidence proving that Schwebs left because of the single-stair issue.

There could be another explanation entirely.

So we're not going to claim one.

Instead, we're going to ask:

What happened?

Why did it happen?

Who made the decision?

Was Council involved?

Was there a separation agreement?

What does the City say?

And what information is still unavailable?

Those are reasonable questions.


Why does senior turnover matter?

Here's the bigger issue.

A municipal government isn't just a mayor and council.

There is an enormous amount of institutional knowledge sitting inside the professional public service.

People learn:

How the organization works.

Where the files are.

Why previous decisions were made.

Which mistakes have already been made.

Which policies have failed.

Which recommendations were never implemented.

Which agreements contain unusual provisions.

Which departments depend upon which others.

When senior officials leave, that knowledge can leave with them.

Sometimes fresh leadership is exactly what an organization needs.

Sometimes continuity is equally important.

The public has a legitimate interest in understanding which is happening.


And remember Part 1.

We started this series with the $6 million in 2025 severance agreements.

We aren't claiming that these senior departures account for that entire amount.

We don't know that.

That's exactly what we want to find out.

If the City has paid substantial severance to departing senior officials, the public should be able to understand:

Who received it?

How much?

Under what authority?

Why?

Was the payment required by an employment contract?

Was it negotiated?

Was it approved by Council?

And what did taxpayers receive in return?

Those are not unreasonable questions about public money.


And remember Part 2.

We also talked about QuickFind, Vancouver's old public employee directory.

Again, we're not claiming it was removed to conceal anything.

It was an old system.

It needed modernization.

But without a modern replacement, tracking changes in the City's workforce becomes harder.

And that makes today's question more difficult to answer:

Who is actually running Vancouver?

Not politically.

Administratively.

Who holds the positions?

Who makes recommendations?

Who administers Council's decisions?

Who oversees public safety?

Who manages public property?

Who administers elections?

Who handles procurement?

And when those people leave...

Who replaces them?


This is where our investigation gets interesting.

Because the next posts aren't going to simply list names.

We're going to start examining the positions themselves.

What authority do they have?

Who appoints them?

Who can remove them?

What does the Vancouver Charter say?

What does Council control?

What does the Mayor control?

And what should the public reasonably expect to know?

Because sometimes the most important story isn't who left.

It's what powers that position carried — and who now holds them.


A note to readers

We are deliberately not calling this a "purge."

That word implies motive.

We don't know the motive.

We're also not saying the departures were illegal, improper or politically motivated.

We don't know that either.

We're doing something much simpler:

We're building a public record.

And if the evidence eventually shows that these were completely ordinary personnel changes, we'll say so.

If the evidence raises further questions, we'll say that too.

If we've got something wrong, we'll correct it.

That's how this series is going to work.


Your homework — if you're curious. ๐Ÿคช

Look at the City's own records.

Look at Council minutes.

Look at old City reports.

Look at the Vancouver Charter.

Look at the Auditor General's reports.

Look at the FOI releases.

Look at reputable journalism from different perspectives.

And then ask yourself:

Does this look like ordinary turnover — or is something unusual happening at Vancouver City Hall?

You don't have to agree with us.

Do your own research.

Bring what you find.

We'll keep following the paper trail together.

Because these are public institutions.

And we're not just spectators.

We are witnesses.

Part 4: Who Watches the Watchers? — The City Clerk, the Deputy City Clerk and the machinery of municipal democracy.

#Vancouver #CityHall #Accountability #Transparency #MunicipalGovernment #PublicService #CivicPolitics #FollowThePaperTrail #DoYourOwnResearch #WeAreWitnesses

65 Years of 1450 Chestnut — and Me ❤️

 65 Years of 1450 Chestnut — and Me ❤️

I just realized something that made me laugh…

I've lived on and off at 1450 Chestnut Street in Kitsilano since 1997. For the last few years, I kept telling people the building was 62 years old.

Then the other day I realized I'm turning 65 — and so is the building! ๐Ÿ˜‚

So apparently we need to have a birthday party. ๐ŸŽ‚

What's especially interesting is that when 1450 Chestnut was built, a high-rise like this was controversial in Kitsilano. It was a very different neighbourhood then, and this big apartment tower stood out among the lower buildings.

And now look at our neighbour Sen̓รกแธตw.

Talk about how Vancouver has changed.

I've lived through so many changes here: repiping, new carpets, new elevators, the pool being repaired more than once, and the roof being redone twice.

And then there was the jackhammering of the outside stucco off. ๐Ÿ˜ฌ๐Ÿคช

There have been fires, changing neighbours, countless new faces and, sadly, people who have passed away here.

And I've watched the rents change from $630 in 1997, to $825 in 2004, to $925 in 2007. Today, apartments here can be around $2,000 or more.

But this isn't just my story.

There are 215 suites in this building, meaning hundreds of people have called this place home over the years. Some may have lived here for a few months, others for decades.

So I'm thinking…

What if we collect the stories?

I'm going to do some research into the history of 1450 Chestnut — when it was built, who designed it, what Kitsilano was like back then, why the building was controversial, old photographs, renovations and the changes this building has gone through.

But I'd love to hear from the people who actually lived here.

Did you live at 1450 Chestnut? Do you still live here? Did your parents or grandparents?

Tell me your stories.
Tell me what you remember.
And if you have old photographs, I'd love to see them.

Maybe we'll create a little history of our big green building together.

1450 Chestnut & Me: 65 Years Young. ❤️

And if I'm in Mexico when the birthday rolls around… somebody else will have to bring the cake. ๐Ÿ˜‚๐Ÿ‡ฒ๐Ÿ‡ฝ

Gr.Grandpa Joseph Enos Book 2January 1883

 

Book 2

January 1, 1883

Clear and cold
Burning logs 10 pm Mild

We had a good New Year dinner. No one called.

My hight is five feet
my weight is 1021bs

Father ways 140lbs

Mr. McDougall ways 155lbs

January 2

Cloudy and the appearance of snow. Making firewood.
6 pm Light snow

January 3

Cloudy all day

11am I took a letter for Mr. Kenny and a paper addressed to Rev. Father Lemmons. J R Wiles to

January 3 — continued

to be taken to Nanaimo P.O.
Mr. Wale [?] and I returned about 4 o'clock. R. Wiles remained with us all night.

January 4

Weather very mild

10 am I went to the head of the bay and brought Maggie the cow home.

2 pm Took Mr. Wiles across in the boat

Pm. the appearance of snow

January 5

January Raining. At home
patching Mr. Dougall cut my hair.

January 6

Father and I went out hunting
Father brought the oxen home
I brought the colts home

January 6 — continued

Johny Hoist got Father to help drive the cattle to Nanaimo

January 7

January 8

Rain all Day. At home

January 9

Mild and light rain. Father went to Englishman River to drive the cattle

Father returned about 4 o'clock
the river being too high to cross

Cleaning the chicken house and cutting fire wood

January 10

Fine Clear Day (FCD) Brought home the oxen and haul logs

January 11

FCD. 10 o'clock Johny Hoist came with 2 horses and Father went to E. M. River to help drive cattle to Nanaimo

Gr Grandpa John Enos Diary 1881 cont 2

 

June 1881

1 Ploughing at the bottom

2 "

3 "

4 "

5 -

6 Weeding at the spit

7 Ploughing

8 Rainy weather

9 Raining

10 "

11 Healing potatoes at the spit

12

13 Ploughing at the bottom

14 Ploughing

15 Drilling holes for potato bottom

16 Planting potato bottom

17 Planting carrots at the bottom

18 Sewing Turnips

19

20 Transplanting cabbage

21 "

22 Father went to Nanaimo *

returned from Nanaimo *

23

24

25

26

27 Drove cattle to Wellington

28 Sewing turnips at the bottom

29 Sewing turnips bottom

30 Sewing turnips

July 1881

2 Warm weather Weeding

No Entries after until 1883

I think because his mother *(Songhees)

Tares[a] Eliza Enos
Died Oct. 4, 1882

(Page 63 or 64 in Diary)

Wednesday, September 2, 2026

Goodbye QuickFind: Who Works for the City?

Goodbye QuickFind: Who Works for the City?

Part 2 of 12 — Vancouver City Hall: Following the Paper Trail

Remember when you could look up City of Vancouver employees online?

For decades, Vancouver had something called QuickFind — a public employee directory that dated back to the 1990s.

It wasn't glamorous.

It wasn't cutting-edge.

And by 2024, it was almost certainly showing its age.

So let's start by saying something important:

I don't think replacing a 1990s-era website is suspicious.

Technology changes.

People change jobs.

Departments are reorganized.

Links break.

Information becomes outdated.

A public employee directory that began life in 1996 was obviously going to need a serious overhaul eventually.

But here's where I start asking questions.

If QuickFind was obsolete, why wasn't it replaced?

On June 24, 2024, public access to the City's QuickFind employee directory disappeared.

And according to reporting and FOI material, the City subsequently faced requests for information about its staff directory.

So instead of asking:

"Why did City Hall secretly delete QuickFind?"

I'd rather ask:

"Why did Vancouver retire an outdated public directory without creating a modern replacement?"

That's a very different question.

And I think it's a fair one.


Why does an employee directory matter?

At first glance, this might sound trivial.

Who cares if you can't search for the name of some City bureaucrat?

Well...

We should.

A city government is made up of thousands of people.

There are planners.

Engineers.

Building officials.

Procurement officers.

Real estate specialists.

Clerks.

Bylaw officers.

Managers.

Directors.

General managers.

People making recommendations to Council.

People administering decisions made by Council.

People responsible for public safety.

People handling public money.

People responding to Freedom of Information requests.

And people whose names most citizens will never know.

That's normal.

Government has to function through a professional civil service.

But democracy also depends on citizens being able to figure out:

Who is responsible for what?


Think about what happens when someone disappears from the directory.

Imagine you're a journalist.

You wrote about a City department six months ago.

You knew who the director was.

Now something goes wrong.

You go looking for that person.

They're no longer listed.

Was the position eliminated?

Did they retire?

Were they transferred?

Did they resign?

Were they dismissed?

Was the department reorganized?

Who replaced them?

When did the change happen?

Without a public directory, one simple piece of public information becomes harder to establish.

You may have to search old Council reports.

News stories.

Archived documents.

FOI records.

LinkedIn.

Departmental pages.

And sometimes none of those will give you the answer.


And this becomes especially interesting right now.

Vancouver has experienced a number of significant senior staff departures in recent years.

The City Manager changed.

The City Clerk changed.

The Deputy City Clerk changed.

The Chief Building Official changed.

Other senior positions have also changed hands.

Those aren't necessarily suspicious.

People leave government.

Organizations reorganize.

New administrations bring new priorities.

That's democracy and administration.

But when there is significant turnover at the same time that the public's easiest way of seeing the City's organizational structure disappears...

Well...

It makes tracking those changes harder.

That's simply a fact.

And that's why I think the QuickFind story belongs in this series.


This isn't about nostalgia for an old website.

In fact, I'd argue the opposite.

Vancouver should have something better than QuickFind.

Imagine a modern, searchable public directory showing:

Name

Position

Department

Responsibilities

Official contact information

Date appointed

Date position changed

Current status

And perhaps links to relevant Council reports or departmental pages.

That wouldn't be a step backward.

It would be a huge improvement.

It could actually make City Hall more transparent than it was in 1999.

So why don't we have that?

That's the question I'd like answered.


There's another piece to this.

Freedom of Information exists partly because governments hold information that the public needs to be able to access.

But FOI should not have to be the first stop for basic information about who works for the government.

If a member of the public wants to know who the City's Chief Building Official is, that shouldn't require an FOI request.

If a journalist wants to know who heads a City department, that shouldn't require an FOI request.

If citizens want to understand who is responsible for a particular decision, they should be able to find that information easily.

Transparency shouldn't be an obstacle course.


And here's where I want to be especially fair to City Hall.

Maybe there is a perfectly reasonable explanation.

Maybe the old system was expensive.

Maybe it was insecure.

Maybe it was technically impossible to maintain.

Maybe the City was building a replacement that hasn't materialized yet.

Maybe there are privacy considerations.

Maybe there are other legitimate reasons we haven't considered.

If so, great.

Tell us.

Show us.

Explain it.

Because that's exactly what transparency is supposed to do.


What we know

QuickFind was old.

QuickFind was publicly accessible.

It disappeared from the City's website in 2024.

The City has subsequently dealt with FOI requests concerning its employee directory.

And today, it is harder for an ordinary member of the public to use the old-style directory to see who works for Vancouver.

Those are the facts.


What we DON'T know

We don't know that QuickFind was removed to conceal staff changes.

We don't know that its removal was connected to the $6 million in severance payments.

We don't know that City Hall intended to make journalists' work more difficult.

And we shouldn't claim any of those things without evidence.

That's not how we're doing this series.

We're following the paper trail.


So here's the question for Vancouver:

If the old public employee directory was no longer good enough...

Where is the new one?

And if there isn't one:

Why not?

Because perhaps the most transparent solution would be incredibly simple:

Build a better QuickFind.

Give the public a current, searchable window into their own municipal government.

And let people see who is there, who is responsible for what, and when the structure changes.

That doesn't belong to one political party.

It belongs to all of us.


Your turn.

Do you remember using QuickFind?

Did you use it for work, journalism, research, contacting City staff, or just curiosity?

Do you think Vancouver should have a modern public employee directory?

And what information do you think should be public?

Let's talk about it around the water cooler. ☕๐Ÿคช

And please — don't just agree with me.

Check the sources. Do your own research.

If you find something I've missed, tell me.

If the City has a good explanation, let's hear it.

If you have documents, bring them forward.

Because this series isn't about telling people what to think.

It's about making it easier for people to see.

Part 3: Where Did All the Senior Officials Go?

#Vancouver #CityHall #QuickFind #Transparency #Accountability #FOI #MunicipalGovernment #CivicEngagement #PublicInformation #FollowThePaperTrail


Gr Grandpa Joseph Enos Diary 1881 Cont

 

March 1881

29 Sowing onion seeds

30 Fine Clear Weather

31 Planting at the spit

April 1881

1 Ploughing at the spit

2 Brought J[unclear] home with a calf

3 [unclear]

4 Brought [unclear]

5 Mother went to Nanaimo

6 Sowing peas at the spit

7 Rainy Day

8 Brought Mr Beachums cow calf home

9 Planting potatoes at the spit

10 [unclear]

11 Ploughing its well yard

12 Rainy Day

13 Ploughing for the Indians

14 Father took Mr Beachums cow to Wellington

15 FCD

16 I went to Nanaimo

17 At Nanaimo

18 "

19 I returned from Nanaimo

Rainy weather

20 Father went to E. M. Rei[unclear]

21 Rainy

22 Plant potatoes at the spit

23 FCD

24 Fine Day

25 Fine

26 Bring home dogfish scraps from point for manure

27 Rainy Weather

28 Fine Day

29 Planting beans at point

30 Sowing oats by the [unclear] house

Tuesday, September 1, 2026

Gr.Grandpa Joseph Enos Diary 1881

 

Book First — 1881

January

6 January. Hauling home turnips

7 January. (Friday) Hauling turnips home.

8 " (Sat) Burning stumps and maid bar by the barn

9 " (Sun) I went out hunting with Indian John. I killed one deer + John killed two.

10 " (Mon) Working in Blacksmith shop

11 " (Tues) "

12 " (Wed) "

13 " (Thurs) "

14 " (Fri) Repearing the little

January 1881

16 Fine Clear Day

17 Stormy Weather

18 Fine Clear Day*

19 Mother went to Nanaimo

20 F C D

21 Freezing

22 Father maid a road to the head of the bay.

23 Mr. throp help us Kill a pig

24 Baloing

25 One foot of snow fell.

26 Thawing

27 "

28 Snowing

29 Light snow

30 Thawing

31 Snowing

Snowing all day **

February 1881

1 Lost the boat on account of high tide

2 Thawing all day. Making a bread water at the beach

3 Raining

4 Thawing

5 We went to look for drift boards around the island.

6 Raining all

7 Working in the Blacksmith shop

8 Splitting work

9 FCD

10 A rainy day

11 Brought home the oxen

12 Hauling wood

13 -

14 Cold day

15 Fine Clear Day. Splitting rails

16 FCD

17 Father went to Nanaimo *

18 Burning logs

19 I shot a panther at bottom

Father returned from Nanaimo *

First Book — [March] 1881

21 Fine Clear Day

22 Lost one of our pigs gone [?]

23 Fine Day. Digging holes for apple trees

24 Father hired Indian Peter to help plant the orchard

25 Planting the orchard

26 Pulling Turnips

27 "

28 Pm: I went to Mr. Bishops
Am: Planting in the orchard

163 Children Rescued — And the Question We Need to Ask

 163 Children Rescued — And the Question We Need to Ask

Sometimes two stories can exist at the same time, and the contrast between them is impossible to ignore.

Recently, I came across the story of 163 missing children recovered during Operation Statewide Shield, a five-day law-enforcement operation led by Florida authorities.

One hundred and sixty-three children.

Some were babies. The children ranged from just two months old to 17 years old.

Authorities say the children were found in circumstances involving abuse, neglect and exploitation, and that some cases involved human trafficking. The operation extended beyond Florida into other states, a U.S. territory and 12 other countries, including Canada.

That is an extraordinary number of children.

And I am grateful they were found.

But it made me think about another group of vulnerable people whose stories are much harder to hear through the constant noise of politics.

Immigrants and their children caught up in the U.S. immigration detention system.

I want to be very careful here. Immigration detention and kidnapping are not legally the same thing. ICE has legal authority to detain people under U.S. immigration law.

But that does not mean everything that happens inside that system is acceptable.

There have been serious, documented allegations of physical and sexual abuse, medical neglect, inadequate food and water, intimidation and degrading conditions in immigration detention facilities.

A 2026 Senate investigation identified more than 1,000 credible reports of human-rights abuses in immigration detention since January 2025. Human-rights organizations have separately documented allegations of abuse and mistreatment at facilities including Fort Bliss.

And then there are the children.

Millions of American children have immigrant parents who may be affected by detention or deportation policies.

Think about what that means from a child's perspective.

A parent disappears.

A mother is detained.

A father is deported.

A family is separated.

A child doesn't necessarily understand immigration law.

They understand that Mom or Dad is gone.

So here is the question I keep coming back to:

Why are we so passionate about “saving the children” when the danger comes from one kind of perpetrator — but so much less willing to look closely when the people causing the harm are government institutions?

We should protect children from traffickers.

Absolutely.

We should protect children from sexual predators.

Absolutely.

We should protect children from abusive parents, neglect and exploitation.

Absolutely.

And we should protect children whose parents are caught up in immigration enforcement.

Absolutely.

These principles shouldn't change depending on who is hurting them.

This isn't about defending illegal immigration.

It isn't about attacking law enforcement.

And it isn't about choosing one political party over another.

It is about something much simpler:

Human beings should not lose their humanity because of their immigration status.

If a child is being abused, we should care.

If a woman is being sexually assaulted, we should care.

If a man is being denied medical treatment, we should care.

If a family is being torn apart, we should care.

And if a government agency is responsible for mistreatment, we should care even more — because governments are supposed to be accountable to the people they govern.

The recovery of 163 children is something we should celebrate.

But perhaps it should also make us ask a bigger question:

Are we paying attention to all the vulnerable people who need protecting — or only the ones whose stories fit the political narrative of the moment?

Children don't have political parties.

They don't have immigration lawyers.

They don't have lobbyists.

They don't have a voice powerful enough to demand that the cameras turn toward them.

We are their voice.

And if we really mean it when we say save the children,

then we need to mean all children.

Not just the children whose suffering is convenient for our politics.

Vancouver City Hall: The $6 Million Question

 Vancouver City Hall: The $6 Million Question

Part 1 of 12 — Following the Paper Trail

$6 million.

That is the figure Vancouver taxpayers are now learning was spent on severance agreements with City employees during 2025.

According to reporting by The Vancouver Sun, documents obtained through a Freedom of Information request show that the City paid approximately $6 million in severance agreements last year — reportedly more than the combined total of the previous several years and likely a single-year record.

That is a very large number.

But before we start pointing fingers, let's stop and ask some basic questions.

Who received the money?

Why were the agreements made?

How many employees were involved?

How much went to senior officials?

How much went to ordinary non-union employees?

And perhaps most importantly:

What does the public actually have a right to know about money being paid by the City of Vancouver?

Those are the questions this series is going to investigate.


First, let's be fair.

Severance isn't inherently suspicious.

People leave organizations for all kinds of reasons. Employment agreements can include severance provisions. There can be reorganizations, negotiated departures, retirements, dismissals, settlements and other circumstances where payments are entirely legitimate.

So $6 million does not automatically mean something improper happened.

That's not what we're saying.

The issue is the extraordinary size of the total, combined with the difficulty of determining who left, what positions they held, and why some of those departures occurred.

That's where transparency becomes important.


The timing matters.

During this same general period, Vancouver saw a number of high-profile departures from senior City positions.

Among them were:

  • City Manager Paul Mochrie
  • City Clerk Katrina Leckovic
  • Deputy City Clerk Tina Penney
  • Chief Building Official Saul Schwebs
  • Chief Procurement Officer Alexander Ralph

Some departures were announced publicly.

Some were described only in general terms as personnel matters or agreements.

And the public doesn't necessarily have access to the information needed to connect individual departures with individual severance payments.

That doesn't mean those payments were improper.

It means we can't easily see the complete picture.

And that is precisely why transparency matters.


What happened to QuickFind?

There's another piece of this story that initially sounds more sinister than it may actually be.

Vancouver's old QuickFind employee directory disappeared from the City's website in June 2024.

QuickFind had been around since the 1990s.

Let's be realistic: a system created in the 1990s was eventually going to become outdated. Information changes. Employees move. Departments are reorganized. Links break.

So the disappearance itself isn't proof of anything.

In fact, replacing an antiquated directory could be entirely reasonable.

But here's the question I think Vancouver residents are entitled to ask:

Why wasn't it replaced with a modern public directory?

Instead, journalists and members of the public have had greater difficulty tracking who works for the City, what positions they hold and when senior personnel change.

The City has also received Freedom of Information requests concerning the removal of QuickFind.

And that changes the conversation.

This isn't about defending a 30-year-old website.

It's about whether modern government should provide modern ways for the public to understand who is responsible for running the government.


The $6 million isn't the conclusion.

It's the beginning.

We don't know, from the headline number alone, whether anything improper happened.

We don't know whether the payments were concentrated among a handful of senior executives or spread across many employees.

We don't know how many agreements were routine contractual obligations.

We don't know how many resulted from negotiated departures.

And we shouldn't pretend that we do.

But we do know the number is unusually large.

We do know Vancouver has experienced significant turnover among senior officials.

We do know public access to the City's longstanding employee directory disappeared.

And we do know that obtaining information through FOI can take considerable time and effort.

Those facts deserve examination.


So let's follow the money.

Over the course of this series, we're going to look at the documents rather than simply repeat political claims.

We'll examine:

What the City says.

What the documents show.

What independent auditors have found.

What councillors have said.

What journalists have uncovered.

And, equally important:

What we still don't know.

Because there is a difference between asking difficult questions and making accusations.

We intend to stay on that line.


And here's where you come in.

If you live in Vancouver, this is your government.

If you pay property taxes, use City services, own or rent a home, run a business, walk through a City park, use public infrastructure or simply care about what happens to this city — these issues affect you.

So don't just take our word for it.

Read the source documents.

Check the Council minutes.

Look at the FOI releases.

Read the Auditor General's reports.

Ask your councillor questions.

And if you find something we've missed, please tell us.

If you disagree with our interpretation, tell us that too.

We are not asking anyone to arrive at the same conclusion we do.

We're asking people to look.

Because democracy doesn't work very well when citizens only see the information someone else has decided they need to see.

We are witnesses.

And we're going to keep looking.

Part 2: Goodbye, QuickFind — What happens when the public loses its window into City Hall?


Disclaimer: This series is intended to examine publicly available information, media reporting, City documents and Freedom of Information records. The questions raised are not allegations of wrongdoing. Severance payments can be entirely legitimate, and the presence of a payment does not, by itself, imply misconduct. Where information is incomplete or unavailable, we will say so. Readers are encouraged to review the original source documents and draw their own conclusions.

#Vancouver #CityHall #Transparency #Accountability #PublicMoney #FOI #MunicipalGovernment #FollowTheMoney #CivicEngagement #VancouverPolitics

Monday, August 31, 2026

We Are Losing Our Men

 We Are Losing Our Men

I am 64 years old.

And one of the things I have noticed as I have gotten older is how difficult it has become to meet men who are simply… there.

Men who are healthy enough to build a life with. Men who aren't drinking themselves into oblivion. Men who aren't smoking constantly. Men who aren't carrying unresolved relationships, trauma, addictions or other wounds that make intimacy almost impossible.

Of course, women have our own struggles. I'm not pretending otherwise.

But something has been happening to men for a long time.

And I don't think we talk about it enough.

Because while we argue about the toxic drug crisis in terms of statistics, policing, housing and healthcare, we are also losing an enormous number of men in the years when they should be working, raising families, falling in love, making friends and growing older with us.

In B.C., 77% of people who died from toxic drugs in 2025 were male. Most were in the 30–59 age range. These are not the very old. These are people who should still have decades ahead of them.

And among people whose employment history was known, trades, transport and equipment operators were among the largest occupational groups.

Now Canada is saying we need 80,000 to 100,000 new Red Seal trades workers by 2030–31.

So I can't help asking:

What happened to some of the men we already had?

How many were construction workers?

Truck drivers?

Mechanics?

Heavy-equipment operators?

Welders?

Electricians?

How many were injured on the job and started taking something for pain?

How many were carrying trauma they never learned how to talk about?

How many were taught that real men don't ask for help?

How many were drinking or using drugs long before fentanyl entered the picture?

And how many simply slipped through the cracks until one day they were gone?

I think about my own children.

My child lost their first love.

Someone who should have had a future.

And that loss doesn't show up in a labour-market report.

It doesn't show up as a vacant apprenticeship.

It doesn't show up as a missing worker on a government spreadsheet.

It shows up as an empty place in someone's heart.

And I think about all the mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, partners and children who are carrying those empty places.

We are not just losing workers.

We are losing sons.

We are losing fathers.

We are losing brothers.

We are losing partners.

We are losing friends.

We are losing young men who should have had the opportunity to become old men.

And then we turn around and say:

We need 100,000 more tradespeople.

Yes, Canada needs tradespeople. We need people to build our homes, infrastructure and communities. The federal government is investing billions toward recruiting and training them.

But perhaps alongside asking how we can recruit the next 100,000, we should ask another question:

How do we keep the people we already have alive?

Because a society that loses its people and then simply tries to replace them has missed something profoundly important.

People are not units of labour.

They are somebody's whole world.

And some of the men we are desperately trying to replace were already here.

We just didn't save them.


#ToxicDrugCrisis

#OverdoseAwareness

#InternationalOverdoseAwarenessDay

#SkilledTrades

#MensMentalHealth

#EndTheStigma

#FentanylCrisis

#Canada

#GriefAndLoss

#EveryLifeMatters

On International Overdose Awareness Day, we need to talk about the people behind the numbers.

On International Overdose Awareness Day, we need to talk about the people behind the numbers.

Vancouver Coastal Health reminds us that the toxic drug crisis affects people from every walk of life — families, friends, coworkers and neighbours.

But there is something else worth noticing.

In B.C., about 77% of those who died from toxic drugs in 2025 were men. Many were between 30 and 59 years old, and among those whose employment history was known, trades, transport and equipment operators were one of the largest employment groups.

These aren't abstract numbers.

These are people who worked. People who built things. People who drove trucks, operated equipment, worked with their hands, came home to their families and were part of our communities.

And now Canada and B.C. are talking about the need for tens of thousands more skilled trades workers.

So when we talk about recruiting 100,000 tradespeople, shouldn't we also be asking what happened to the people we already lost?

We can't simply talk about a shortage of workers without talking about the human beings behind that shortage.

Remember them. Reduce the stigma. Support people before they become another statistic.

Because every number was somebody's son, daughter, father, mother, brother, sister, friend or coworker.

#InternationalOverdoseAwarenessDay #ToxicDrugCrisis #SkilledTrades #EndTheStigma #EveryLifeMatters

tried to organize a sleepover at Vancouver City Hall.

 Ten Years Later: I Am Tired

In 2016, I tried to organize a sleepover at Vancouver City Hall.




Yes. A sleepover.

It started partly as a joke, partly as an artistic protest, and partly because I didn't know what else to do.

The idea was simple: if Vancouver was in a housing crisis, perhaps we should bring the crisis right to City Hall.

I suggested pyjamas, sleeping bags, teddy bears, music, poetry, puppet shows, bedtime stories and popcorn. I wanted it to be creative, funny, peaceful and impossible to ignore.

I wrote:

“The more artistic and creative it is, people remember it.”

I also wrote that what we wanted was:

“lower rents and affordable housing for everyone in this city, not just rich people.”

That was 2016.

I am going to include some of those old posters and links to those old posts here because I want people to see them for themselves.

We actually tried.

The sleepover didn't turn into the huge demonstration we had imagined. Not enough people came. There were problems with dates and organization. I wrote afterward that we didn't have enough people power.

But we did make the news.

And more importantly, we were talking about something that Vancouver has now spent another decade talking about.

Housing.

Empty condos.

Speculation.

Homelessness.

Unaffordable rents.

Who gets to live here?

Who gets pushed out?

Who gets protected?

Who gets rescued when the market changes?


Ten years later

We've had the Empty Homes Tax.

We've had endless housing announcements.

We've had arguments about Airbnb.

We've watched homes become investments.

We've watched developers, investors, landlords, renters and governments argue about who is responsible.

We've watched Vancouver prepare for and host FIFA.

People worried about where visitors would stay.

There were calls for more short-term accommodation.

Airbnb wanted more hosts.

And now FIFA is over.

The visitors have gone home.

The stadium lights have gone out.

The temporary excitement is finished.

But Vancouver still has a housing crisis.

And here I am.

After all these years of writing about housing, homelessness, social justice and the right to a home...

I am tired.

And the hardest part is that this isn't theoretical for me anymore.

I am facing homelessness.

Again.


I don't want another slogan

I don't want another politician telling me that housing is a priority.

I don't want another glossy housing strategy.

I don't want another announcement telling us that someday, somehow, things will get better.

I don't want to hear that we just need to build more and everything will work itself out.

I want to know:

Where do people like me go?

What happens to the older person who has worked, created, contributed and survived, but doesn't have enough money to compete in Vancouver's housing market?

What happens when the rent is higher than what someone can actually afford?

What happens when there are homes, but they aren't affordable homes?

What happens when housing is treated primarily as an investment instead of somewhere human beings live?


I remember that City Hall sleepover

I remember the ridiculousness of it.

The pyjamas.

The teddy bears.

The idea of having a puppet show about a housing crisis.

I remember thinking that maybe humour could make people listen.

Maybe art could make people care.

Maybe if we approached people with empathy instead of anger, something might change.

I still believe that.

But I am tired.

Really tired.

I have spent years writing about these issues.

I've photographed protests.

I've made art.

I've written blog posts.

I've tried to document what was happening around me.

I've asked questions.

I've tried to get people to care.

And now I find myself wondering:

What happens when the person writing about homelessness becomes homeless?


Maybe this is the post I was always going to write

Ten years ago I asked Vancouverites to care about their neighbours.

I quoted Article 25 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, which says that everyone has the right to an adequate standard of living, including housing.

I asked why people could mobilize for distant disasters, refugees and climate change, but sometimes seemed unable to see the person experiencing homelessness right in front of them.

I wrote:

“One day it may be you that is being evicted or some other housing horror story...and you will have wished you had taken a stand with us then.”

I never imagined that sentence would come back to me like this.


So yes, I am tired.

I'm tired of watching people fight over housing while people don't have homes.

I'm tired of hearing that the market will fix it.

I'm tired of watching housing treated like a commodity.

I'm tired of seeing enormous amounts of money move through this city while ordinary people wonder where they are going to sleep.

I'm tired of being told to wait.

I'm tired of being resilient.

I'm tired of having to figure everything out.

I just want a home.

Not a luxury condo.

Not an investment property.

Not a vacation rental.

Not a speculative asset.

A home.

A small place where I can put my things.

Make my art.

Plant something.

Close the door.

Sleep.

And know that I am not going to lose it simply because I cannot compete with people who have more money.


We tried in 2016.

Maybe we were naรฏve.

Maybe we were ahead of our time.

Maybe we weren't loud enough.

Maybe Vancouver simply wasn't listening.

But I still have those posters.

I still have the photographs.

I still have the words.

And now, ten years later, I'm putting them back on the internet.

Not because I want to say “I told you so.”

I don't.

I would much rather have been wrong.

I would have loved to look back at those old posts and say:

“Look how much better Vancouver became.”

Instead, I'm looking at them while wondering where I will live.

So this isn't really a political speech.

It's a tired person's question.

After ten years of talking about housing justice, when do we finally decide that people actually need homes?

Because FIFA is over.

The tourists have gone home.

The parties are finished.

And some of us are still here.

Still looking for somewhere to live.

And yes...

I'm tired.

Sunday, August 30, 2026

Teach Your Children Well

 

Teach Your Children Well

What Kind of Canada Are We Building?

Surrey, Abbotsford, immigration, land, belonging — and the questions we seem afraid to ask

Trigger warning: suicide, forced marriage, homelessness, addiction, violence and exploitation.

There are some conversations in Canada that immediately become impossible.

Mention immigration, and someone accuses you of racism.

Mention Indigenous rights, and someone tells you to stop living in the past.

Mention housing, and someone says population growth has nothing to do with it.

Mention temporary foreign workers, and someone tells you that we desperately need workers.

Mention crime in Surrey, and suddenly the conversation becomes about ethnicity.

But these subjects are connected.

Not because one group is responsible for everything.

They are connected because they all involve the same fundamental questions:

Who has power? Who benefits? Who is vulnerable? Who gets to belong? And what kind of country are we actually building?


Let's start with the land.

Abbotsford's Sumas Prairie is an extraordinary example of what humans can do to a landscape — and what can happen when nature eventually reminds us that it was there first.

Sumas Lake was drained and transformed into farmland.

What had been a lake became productive agricultural land.

For generations, people built lives and businesses there.

But the lake bottom never stopped being a lake bottom.

Then came the devastating 2021 floods.

Suddenly, the history underneath the farms mattered again.

And climate change means we have to think even harder about these landscapes.

Surrey has its own complicated relationship with water, floodplains, drainage and development.

This is not simply a story about immigrants buying land.

It is a story about land, colonial transformation, development, wealth, infrastructure and who gets to make decisions about the places where people live.

And this is where I think Canada needs a much bigger conversation.

Because we have spent generations transforming landscapes, moving water, building roads, draining wetlands, subdividing farmland and expanding cities.

Then we act surprised when nature sends us a bill.


And then there is Surrey.

I have watched Surrey change dramatically.

I've watched the population change.

I've watched businesses change.

I've watched housing prices explode.

I've watched people struggle to find somewhere to live.

And I've watched the opioid crisis change the streets.

I have personally witnessed something I will never forget: seeing what appeared to be a person lying motionless on the ground while people walked past.

It didn't matter to me what colour that person's skin was.

It was a human being.

And that is what the overdose crisis has done to us.

It has made death on the street something people can become accustomed to seeing.

That should terrify us.

And now Surrey is also dealing with something I don't remember being part of everyday life decades ago:

extortion.

Businesses being threatened.

Families being frightened.

Money being demanded.

Police investigating organized criminal activity.

This is not an immigration story.

It is a crime and power story.

And if criminal networks are exploiting particular communities, those communities deserve protection — not suspicion.


But I have questions about immigration too.

Not because I hate immigrants.

Quite the opposite.

I have known Indo-Canadians for decades.

I worked alongside East Indian people in the 1980s and 1990s.

I berry-picked with people.

I worked in factories.

I worked in homes doing home support.

I made friendships.

I watched families work incredibly hard.

I watched parents sacrifice for their children.

I watched children grow up Canadian.

So I am not interested in pretending that an entire community is one thing.

It isn't.

But I am interested in asking questions.

Because immigration changes a country.

And Canada has changed enormously.

We have brought in international students.

Temporary foreign workers.

New permanent residents.

Refugees.

Families.

Professionals.

Entrepreneurs.

People escaping war.

People looking for economic opportunity.

People simply wanting a better life.

Those are all different stories.

And they shouldn't be thrown into one bucket.

But the government has created systems around all of them.

And systems can be abused.

Temporary foreign workers can be vulnerable to exploitation.

International students can be vulnerable to predatory recruitment and financial pressure.

Employers can benefit from workers who have fewer choices.

Housing markets can become overwhelmed.

Schools and infrastructure can struggle to keep pace.

And Canadians who are already struggling can feel as though they are being pushed further and further back in the line.

We should be able to talk about that without hating anyone.


Last year, I experienced something that really made me think.

I took a paid job-search course for people 55+ because I was struggling to get work.

One of the women there was from India.

She told me that her family had educated their children in Canada.

The children eventually got jobs with major American companies such as Amazon and Google.

The parents remained in Canada because travelling back to India was simply too far.

And I remember thinking:

Wow.

The children were educated here.

They built careers here.

Then they went to the United States.

The parents stayed here.

And I was sitting in a classroom trying to figure out how to get a job.

I wasn't angry at those children.

Why would I be?

They succeeded.

Good for them.

Every parent wants their children to succeed.

But it made me ask a bigger question:

What exactly is Canada's role in this system?

Are we building a country?

Or are we becoming an enormous economic platform where people come to study, work, build wealth and move wherever the best opportunities happen to be?

Because those aren't necessarily the same thing.


And then there is the question of belonging.

I've had conversations with Indo-Canadians who have told me that they might eventually return to India.

I remember one Uber driver explaining that when his children grow up, perhaps they will go back.

He talked about the shootings and violence there.

His point was essentially:

You hear about all the shootings? That's what it's like there.

And I understood what he meant.

People make complicated choices.

They can love India and Canada.

They can belong to both.

They can miss home while building a life somewhere else.

There is nothing wrong with that.

But it made me wonder:

What does it mean to belong to a country?

Is Canada simply a safe place to raise your children?

A place to get an education?

A place to buy property?

A place to build a business?

A place to escape violence?

A place to accumulate wealth?

Or is it a place where we actually have a responsibility to one another?


And this is where I want to talk to the women.

I remember hearing about aunties choosing husbands.

I remember hearing about family money being pooled.

I remember stories of women being expected to follow traditions they didn't necessarily choose.

And I remember a television interview that stayed with me.

A mother was struggling because her daughter, who had been born in Canada, wanted to dress differently, speak differently and live more like other Canadian young people.

The grandmother was giving the mother a hard time for not enforcing the old traditions.

And the husband said something that struck me:

“There is only a problem if you think there is a problem.”

Maybe.

But sometimes there really is a problem.

I remember a high-school classmate in the Fraser Valley who died by suicide in the early 1980s.

I remember it being in a bathtub.

I also remember that shortly beforehand she had been forced into a marriage with someone she did not love.

I cannot know everything that contributed to her death.

I wasn't inside her life.

But I remember the circumstances as I understood them.

And I cannot simply call that “culture” and walk away.

Because culture is not sacred when it causes suffering.

And that isn't an accusation against Indian culture.

It is a question we should ask about every culture, including my own.


Colonialism is complicated too.

India experienced British colonial rule.

Canada was built through European colonialism.

Indigenous peoples here experienced dispossession, residential schools, forced assimilation, land theft and the destruction of political and cultural systems.

Colonialism was also profoundly patriarchal.

It involved controlling land.

Controlling labour.

Controlling families.

Controlling women.

Controlling inheritance.

Controlling who had authority.

So I find it fascinating when people who have personally inherited the consequences of colonialism arrive somewhere else and sometimes reproduce hierarchical ideas about who should have power over whom.

That can happen.

Being oppressed in one historical context does not automatically make someone incapable of oppressing another person.

We are all capable of carrying things forward without realizing it.

That's why the conversation has to be bigger than ethnicity.


And then there is caste.

Caste is not the same thing as race.

It has its own history and structures.

But the basic question is universal:

Should a person's birth determine their worth?

Should family background determine whom they can marry?

Should someone's inherited social position determine their opportunities?

Should certain people be considered above or below others?

If the answer is no, then we have to be willing to challenge those ideas wherever they appear.

And that includes Canada.

But we also have to be careful not to stereotype every Indian Canadian as carrying caste prejudice.

Many people reject it.

Many people actively challenge it.

Many families have changed dramatically across generations.

That is exactly why we need the conversation.


And now we come back to Canada.

I have been unhoused.

I have struggled with government programs.

I have struggled to find work.

I have watched people fall through systems that were supposed to help them.

And I look around and see enormous changes happening at the same time.

Population growth.

Immigration.

Housing pressure.

Temporary foreign workers.

International students.

Land development.

Climate change.

Organized crime.

The opioid crisis.

Growing inequality.

Indigenous rights.

And a political system that seems increasingly incapable of talking about all of these things together.

We keep separating them.

But ordinary people don't experience their lives in separate policy categories.

Housing affects employment.

Employment affects immigration.

Immigration affects population growth.

Population growth affects infrastructure.

Infrastructure affects housing.

Housing affects homelessness.

Poverty creates vulnerability.

Vulnerability creates opportunities for exploitation.

And underneath all of it is land.

Who owns it?

Who controls it?

Who can afford it?

Who was here first?

Who gets displaced?

Who profits?

Who gets protected?

Who gets forgotten?


So this isn't “Go back to India.”

I don't want that.

I don't want anyone to go anywhere.

I want people to participate.

I want people to build lives here.

I want immigrants to succeed.

I want refugees to be safe.

I want temporary foreign workers protected from exploitation.

I want international students to receive the education they were promised.

I want Canadian-born children of immigrants to have enormous opportunities.

And I want Indigenous peoples to have their rights recognized.

I want women to be free to choose their lives.

I want workers to be protected.

I want older Canadians to matter.

I want people who are homeless to have homes.

I want people dying from addiction to be treated as human beings.

I want businesses to be able to operate without being extorted.

I want communities to feel safe.

And I want the government to stop pretending that population growth automatically equals prosperity.


Because here's the question I keep coming back to:

If you came to Canada because you wanted a better life, what kind of Canada do you want to leave to your children?

Not just financially.

Not just academically.

Not just professionally.

Morally.

What do you want them to believe about women?

About Indigenous people?

About workers?

About immigrants who came after them?

About people who are poor?

About people who don't have the same social connections?

About caste?

About power?

About land?

About privilege?

About responsibility?

And if Canada gave your family opportunities, what responsibility do you believe comes with those opportunities?


Because Canada cannot simply be a place where everyone competes for the biggest piece of the pie.

We have to decide what kind of pie we are baking.

And who gets a seat at the table.

We cannot build a country entirely around economic growth while ignoring the human beings who are being crushed underneath it.

We cannot talk about reconciliation while treating Indigenous rights as an inconvenience.

We cannot celebrate immigration while ignoring exploitation.

We cannot celebrate international education while ignoring students who are financially devastated.

We cannot recruit temporary workers while allowing vulnerability to become a business model.

We cannot celebrate billion-dollar land development while people sleep outside.

And we cannot tell women that something is “just tradition” when that tradition removes their freedom.

This isn't about Indian people.

It isn't about white people.

It isn't about immigrants.

It isn't about Canadian-born people.

It is about something much harder:

What happens when all of us bring our histories, our beliefs, our traumas, our ambitions and our ideas about power into the same country?

And whether we have the courage to examine them.

Because perhaps becoming Canadian isn't about erasing where you came from.

Perhaps it is about deciding, together,

what we refuse to carry forward.

And what kind of country we want to build instead.

What Kind of Canada Are We Building?

TRIGGER WARNING: Suicide, forced marriage, family pressure, exploitation and homelessness.

What Kind of Canada Are We Building?

There is another part of this conversation I haven't talked about.

I grew up in the Fraser Valley, and I remember a high-school classmate dying by suicide in the early 1980s.

I remember it being in a bathtub.

I also remember that shortly beforehand she had been forced into a marriage with someone she did not love.

I cannot claim to know everything that was happening inside her life. I wasn't there. I don't know what ultimately led to her death.

But I remember it.

And when I hear women talk about being pressured into marriages, family expectations and having their choices controlled, I can't simply dismiss those things as “cultural differences.”

Sometimes a tradition has a human cost.

And then there is something I experienced much more recently.

Last year, I took a paid job-search course for people 55+.

I was there because I was struggling to get work.

One woman from India told me that her family had educated their children here. Those children eventually got jobs at companies like Amazon and Google in the United States.

The parents remained living in Canada because they were too far away from India.

And I remember thinking:

Wait.

Canada educated the children.

Canada helped provide the environment in which they built their careers.

The children then went to the United States for those high-paying jobs.

And the parents remained here.

Meanwhile, I'm sitting in a room of people over 55 trying to figure out how to get a job.

I'm not angry that those children succeeded.

Good for them.

I'm not angry that parents want their children to have better lives.

Of course they do.

But I am asking a much bigger question:

What is Canada becoming?

And perhaps the most important question:

What kind of country do we want to live in?

Because immigration isn't the enemy.

Immigrants aren't the enemy.

Indian people aren't the enemy.

Refugees aren't the enemy.

The problem is when governments create systems that can benefit some people while leaving others increasingly vulnerable — and then tell us we aren't allowed to question it.

We need housing.

We need decent jobs.

We need healthcare.

We need functioning schools.

We need workers to be protected from exploitation.

We need international students to receive the education they were promised.

We need temporary foreign workers protected from abuse.

We need older Canadians to have a realistic chance of finding work.

And we need Indigenous rights to be respected.

All of these things can be true at the same time.

And to the Indo-Canadian families I have known over the decades, I would ask:

You came here.

You wanted opportunity.

You wanted education for your children.

You wanted a better future.

What kind of Canada do you want your children to inherit?

If your daughter is born here, should she have the freedom to choose whom she loves?

Should she control her own money?

Should she be able to reject a marriage she doesn't want?

Should your sons grow up understanding that women are their equals?

And if your children succeed here, should they also understand the history of the land they succeeded on — including Canada's colonial history and the rights of Indigenous peoples?

These aren't anti-immigrant questions.

They're citizenship questions.

They're questions about reciprocity.

They're questions about what we bring with us, what we leave behind, and what we choose to teach our children.

Because becoming Canadian shouldn't require abandoning your culture.

But preserving culture should never require preserving oppression.

And that applies to every culture — including mine.

Because I'm tired of watching Canada become a place where everyone is told to compete for scraps while governments congratulate themselves on growth.

Canada cannot simply be a pipeline of people, students, workers, taxpayers and consumers.

It has to be a country.

A country where people belong.

A country where workers have rights.

A country where women have choices.

A country where Indigenous rights matter.

A country where older people aren't disposable.

A country where housing isn't a luxury.

A country where success isn't measured only by how many people we can bring in or how much economic activity we can generate.

Because right now, sometimes it feels like Canada is giving us the middle finger.

When did we stop asking what kind of country we were actually building?

DRIPA debate so painful

 This is what makes the DRIPA debate so painful for me.

I have been unhoused since 2019.

I have struggled through systems that were supposed to help me. I have experienced the humiliation of trying to navigate welfare, housing programs and government assistance while being told, in one way or another, that there wasn't enough room, enough money, or that I didn't fit the criteria.

Meanwhile, I watch Canada create programs and pathways for newcomers and refugees, while people who have been here for generations can still fall through the cracks.

And yes — I understand why people need help. Refugees need help. Newcomers need help. People fleeing war, persecution and poverty deserve compassion.

But compassion should not require forgetting the people already here who are struggling.

My own ancestry is complicated and deeply connected to this land. Parts of that history were erased, buried, legislated away and made difficult to recover.

So when I see a politician in Canada proposing to dissolve or dismantle a framework intended to recognize Indigenous rights, I don't experience that as some abstract political disagreement.

I experience it personally.

Because this isn't simply about one piece of legislation.

It is about whether Canada is willing to acknowledge the history underneath the country we live in.

It is about whether Indigenous peoples are expected to keep fighting to have their rights recognized while everyone else gets to treat Canada as a blank slate.

And it raises an uncomfortable question:

How can someone who comes from a country with its own long history of colonialism fail to understand why Indigenous people in Canada are still fighting the consequences of colonization?

I don't care where someone's ancestors came from.

India. China. Ukraine. England. Mexico. Anywhere.

You can come here. You can build a life here. You can become Canadian.

But becoming Canadian should also mean learning whose land you're living on — and understanding that Indigenous rights are not an inconvenience that can simply be legislated away when they become politically inconvenient.

I have spent years trying to find a place to live in the country where my own family history is buried.

So forgive me if I find it difficult to watch someone with political power decide that recognition of Indigenous rights is something that should disappear.

We need to talk about what Canada owes people — not just what people owe Canada.

#DRIPA #IndigenousRights #Colonialism #HousingCrisis #Canada #Reconciliation #BritishColumbia #Immigration #HumanRights #Abbotsford


10 Hard Reflective Questions


1. What does it say about Canada when someone born and raised here can inherit the benefits of Canadian society while reproducing the same hierarchical, exclusionary and colonial methods of control that Canada claims it is trying to dismantle?


2. Can a person be Canadian by birth and still reproduce systems of oppression learned through family, community, class, caste or colonial history — and are we willing to talk honestly about that?


3. What happens when ideas of hierarchy, inherited status and social superiority are carried into Canadian institutions and used against people who are already vulnerable?


4. If we condemn the caste system because it assigns people different social value based on birth, why do we become uncomfortable when caste-based attitudes or behaviours are alleged to appear within Canadian communities?


5. Why do we sometimes recognize colonialism when it is committed by Europeans, but become reluctant to examine colonial or hierarchical behaviour when it is reproduced by people from other formerly colonized societies?


6. Can someone be a victim of colonialism in one historical context while simultaneously reproducing oppressive behaviour toward another group in the present? Why is that possibility so difficult to discuss?


7. What happens when people use Canadian institutions — political office, education, employment, immigration systems or government programs — while bringing with them social hierarchies that can disadvantage people with less power?


8. If Canada is supposed to be a society based on equality, should anyone be able to use inherited status, social connections, institutional power or cultural hierarchy to place themselves above another person?


9. What responsibility does a person have when they recognize that beliefs or behaviours inherited from their family's history can hurt other people — especially Indigenous people, women, workers, newcomers or people living in poverty?


10. And the hardest question: if we demand that Indigenous people confront the effects of colonization, shouldn't everyone who lives here also be willing to examine the colonial, caste-based, class-based or hierarchical behaviours they may have inherited — rather than assuming only someone else's history needs to be confronted?

WHO GETS TO DECIDE WHO BELONGS?

 WHO GETS TO DECIDE WHO BELONGS?

I am angry.

Not mildly annoyed. Angry.

Because I keep watching the same old story play itself out in Canada: Indigenous peoples are expected to continually explain, defend and justify their rights on their own lands, while politicians argue about how much recognition they should be allowed to have.

Now we have a B.C. Conservative MLA, Harman Bhangu, seeking to repeal the Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples Act (DRIPA).

And yes, I understand the legal distinction: Elections BC has approved the initiative petition to proceed. DRIPA has not been repealed. This is the beginning of an attempt to collect signatures.

But that attempt itself deserves scrutiny.

Stop for a minute and think about the history.

Canada is a country built through colonization.

Indigenous peoples did not immigrate here and ask for permission to exist. They were already here.

Their governments, laws, languages, cultures and relationships to the land existed long before Canada became Canada.

Then came colonial governments, land dispossession, residential schools, the Indian Act, restrictions on Indigenous governance and generations of policies designed to assimilate Indigenous peoples.

And now, in 2026, we're still arguing about whether Indigenous peoples should have meaningful recognition of their rights.

How did we get here?

And why are some politicians so determined to turn Indigenous rights into something frightening?


The part that really bothers me

Bhangu is of Indian heritage.

That isn't a problem.

Being Indian isn't a problem. Being an immigrant isn't a problem.

Canada is made up of people from everywhere.

But I find the political contradiction worth talking about.

India itself has an enormous and complicated history of colonialism, including nearly two centuries of British rule and the continuing consequences of that history.

So I find it deeply uncomfortable when someone whose family comes from another formerly colonized part of the world arrives in Canada and then takes a political position that would roll back recognition of the rights of the Indigenous peoples whose lands we are all living on.

That's the conversation I want to have.

Not:

"Go back to India."

That is too easy.

And it misses the point.

The point is:

Wherever you come from, once you live here, you have a responsibility to understand the history of the land you're living on.

You don't get to arrive in a country shaped by colonization and pretend colonization is ancient history because it makes today's politics inconvenient.


DRIPA didn't create Indigenous rights

This is another thing that gets lost.

DRIPA didn't magically give Indigenous peoples rights.

It was B.C.'s framework for implementing the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples.

And Indigenous rights don't originate with a provincial government.

They existed before British Columbia existed.

They existed before Canada existed.

They existed before somebody drew lines on a map and called them provinces.

So when people talk about "giving Indigenous peoples special rights," I want to stop them right there.

We're not talking about handing somebody a gift.

We're talking about recognizing rights that Indigenous peoples have been asserting for generations.


And who gets uncomfortable when Indigenous people have a voice?

That's the question.

Because apparently Indigenous participation is welcomed when it's symbolic.

Put Indigenous art on the wall.

Celebrate Indigenous culture.

Have a ceremony.

Use the words reconciliation and relationship.

But when Indigenous rights potentially affect land, resources, development, government decisions or money, suddenly everybody gets very nervous.

Suddenly we're told:

"This creates uncertainty."

"This is bad for investment."

"This will stop development."

"We need clarity."

Maybe.

But let's ask another question:

Clarity for whom?

For governments?

For corporations?

For investors?

For developers?

Or for Indigenous nations whose territories and laws were ignored for generations?


I am tired of the double standard

Canadians are constantly told that reconciliation is important.

But reconciliation cannot mean:

"We'll recognize you until recognizing you becomes inconvenient."

You cannot celebrate Indigenous Peoples Day and then turn around and argue that Indigenous rights are an obstacle.

You cannot put Indigenous artwork in government buildings while trying to weaken the legal framework intended to recognize Indigenous rights.

You cannot say "we're all Canadians now" while conveniently forgetting how Canada came to possess the land in the first place.

And you cannot erase history simply because the history makes the present uncomfortable.


This isn't about where Harman Bhangu was born

I want to be very clear about that.

People from India, China, Mexico, Europe, Africa, the Philippines, the Middle East and everywhere else have every right to live in Canada.

I don't care where someone comes from.

What matters is what they do once they're here.

If you come to Canada, learn the history.

Learn whose land you're living on.

Learn what the Indian Act did.

Learn about residential schools.

Learn about treaties—and the absence of treaties in much of B.C.

Learn why Indigenous nations are still fighting for recognition.

Then enter the political debate.

But don't come here and simply reproduce the same old colonial assumption:

that the government gets to decide what Indigenous peoples are entitled to.

That's exactly the thinking reconciliation is supposed to challenge.


Canada needs to stop pretending reconciliation is easy

Maybe that's what makes me angriest.

We talk about reconciliation like it's a nice little national project.

It isn't.

It's uncomfortable.

It challenges property.

It challenges government authority.

It challenges resource development.

It challenges the stories Canadians were taught about how this country was created.

And yes, sometimes it challenges us.

That's the point.

Because if reconciliation never makes anybody uncomfortable, we're probably not actually doing reconciliation.

We're just decorating colonialism.

And I'm not interested in that.

Zipolita

10 Hard Reflective Questions

If Indigenous rights existed before Canada, who gave Canada the authority to take them away?

Why does reconciliation seem acceptable until it affects land, resources, money or political power?

When we call Indigenous rights an “obstacle” to development, whose interests are we actually protecting?

Can Canada honestly claim to support reconciliation while politicians campaign to weaken the laws intended to advance it?

What would Canada look like today if Indigenous nations had never been forced to surrender their authority over their own lands?

Why are newcomers expected to learn Canadian laws and customs, but so many Canadians never learn the colonial history that created the country?

When does “certainty for business” become another way of saying that Indigenous rights are inconvenient?

Are we willing to accept Indigenous sovereignty only when it is symbolic—or also when it changes who has decision-making power?

If we believe colonialism was wrong, what are we willing to give up today to actually undo some of its consequences?

What does reconciliation mean if, the moment Indigenous rights become politically or economically inconvenient, we decide they have gone too far?


#DRIPA #IndigenousRights #Colonialism #Reconciliation #UNDRIP #Decolonization #BCPolitics #LandRights #CanadianHistory #PoliticalAccountability



Saturday, August 29, 2026

An Invitation to Read, Question and Remember

 An Invitation to Read, Question and Remember

A September Family History Series

Throughout September, approximately every two days, I will be publishing another post about my ancestry and the historical research I have been doing.

This is partly a family story.

But it is also a proposal to educators, historians, professors, students, writers, researchers and anyone interested in the history of the Pacific Northwest.

I am asking you to read these stories.

Not necessarily to agree with every conclusion.

Read them. Think about them. Question them. Check the sources.

And perhaps look at the place where you live a little differently afterward.

If you live in Vancouver, Nanaimo, Victoria or somewhere else in British Columbia, what do you know about the people who were here before the borders and political systems we recognize today?

If you are a newcomer who moved here from Ontario, Alberta, another province, another country—or arrived only recently—what history did you learn about this place before you came?

If your family has been here for three generations, what stories were passed down?

And if your ancestors have been here since time immemorial, what stories are already known within your family and community that never made it into the history books?

My own family story crosses borders

As I have worked through my genealogy, I have found ancestors and relatives connected to Iroquois, Kalapuya and T’Sou-ke/Sooke communities, as well as French-Canadian fur-trade families and the Catholic missions of the Oregon Country.

My family story crosses what we now call Canada and the United States.

It includes the Willamette Valley, French Prairie, Fort Vancouver, Cowlitz and Vancouver Island.

It includes people who lived before the international boundary at the 49th parallel divided the region into the political geography we know today.

And it includes families whose identities don't fit neatly into the categories we often use today.

That is precisely why I am writing about it.

I am not a professional historian

I am an artist and a descendant trying to understand my own family.

I have found historical records, baptismal registers, marriage records, testimony and published historical research.

I have spent enormous amounts of time trying to match names, dates, places and relationships.

And honestly?

It has been frustrating and overwhelming.

Old records use different spellings.

People appear under different names.

French and English names change.

Surnames change through marriage, adoption and family circumstances.

The same person can appear differently in different records.

And sometimes the information that finally makes sense of one branch of the family is buried hundreds of pages away in a historical book.

So I have used AI to help me organize, compare and untangle the information.

I want to be completely transparent about that.

AI has helped me read through complicated material, identify relationships, organize timelines and turn my notes into something understandable.

But AI is not my source.

The historical records and published research are the sources.

Where possible, I will identify them.

And where something remains uncertain, I will say so.

A note about evidence

Throughout this series I will try to distinguish between:

Primary historical records
such as baptism and marriage registers created at the time;

First-person testimony
such as later testimony given by my ancestor Mary Ann;

Published historical research
written by historians who have studied these communities and records;

and my own genealogical interpretation
as I try to connect those pieces to my family tree.

I will not pretend that every question has been answered.

Some things are documented.

Some are strongly supported by multiple records.

Some are historical interpretations.

And some things I simply don't know yet.

I would rather say “I don't know” than invent an answer.

Why am I doing this?

There is a personal reason.

I have shared some of this research with my family, and honestly, it saddens me that there doesn't seem to be much interest.

But I can't shake the feeling that these people are asking me to remember them.

Not literally, of course.

But when I find the name of an ancestor written in a document from 1839, or read the words of a woman who lived through an entirely different world, something happens inside me.

I feel the weight of those lives.

I think about the mothers.

The fathers.

The children who died young.

The children who survived.

The people who travelled thousands of kilometres.

The women whose names sometimes disappeared from official records.

The Indigenous families who had to navigate colonial systems that increasingly tried to define who they were.

And I keep thinking:

Someone should remember them.

So I will.

This isn't just about me

That is why I am inviting teachers, professors, students, historians and writers to follow this series.

Perhaps something in these stories will raise a question.

Perhaps a record will lead to another record.

Perhaps someone will recognize a name.

Perhaps a student will discover a research project.

Perhaps a teacher will use one of these stories to ask students:

What did this place look like before the borders?

Who was already here?

How did people move through this region?

How did Indigenous communities interact with the fur-trade world?

What happened when governments began imposing new definitions of land, citizenship and identity?

And perhaps the most important question:

Whose stories made it into the history books—and whose didn't?

My September invitation

Every couple of days throughout September, another piece of this family story will appear.

I invite you to follow along.

Read critically.

Check the sources.

Tell me when I get something wrong.

Point me toward records I haven't found.

And most importantly—

think about the place where you live.

Whether you arrived yesterday, your grandparents arrived three generations ago, your family has lived here for centuries, or your ancestors have been connected to these lands since time immemorial—

you are living somewhere with a history.

The borders are relatively young.

The families are older.

And sometimes the stories we need most are the ones we have to work hardest to find.

Sources

The research presented in this series draws from historical records and published research, including:

  • Catholic mission baptism and marriage registers from the Oregon Country, including records associated with Father F. N. Blanchet.
  • The 1839 baptism register, including the entry recording Marie Anne as the daughter of Louis Iroquois dit le Frisรฉ and Louise, identified as Kalapoya/Kalapouya.
  • The 1848 St. Paul marriage record of Joseph Brulรฉ and Marie Ann Maranda dit la Frise, identifying Joseph as the son of Jacques Iroquois and Marguerite Brulรฉ and Jean Baptiste Brulรฉ as his foster- and step-father.
  • Mary Ann Brulรฉ Voutrin's later testimony, in which she described her father as Louis Marchelle, an Iroquois man known as Frizzee, and her mother as a Marysville Indian woman, and described her childhood, marriage and movements.
  • M. Leona Nichols, The Mantle of Elias: The Story of Fathers Blanchet and Demers in Early Oregon, which preserves and discusses material from the early Catholic mission communities.
  • Jean Barman, Iroquois in the West, for historical research concerning Iroquois people, fur-trade communities and Indigenous families in the Pacific Northwest.
  • Additional genealogical and historical records that will be identified as they become relevant to individual posts.

A disclaimer

This is personal family-history research, not an academic history thesis.

I am not claiming that every interpretation I make is definitive.

Historical records can contain errors, inconsistent spellings, omissions and colonial terminology that does not reflect how people understood themselves.

Some of the material I am working with is transcribed through digital tools and may contain transcription errors. Where possible, I want to return to the original document or image.

I have also used AI to help me organize and interpret the large amount of material I have collected. AI-assisted writing or research organization should never be mistaken for independent historical evidence. The underlying records and published historical sources are what matter.

If you are a historian, genealogist, Indigenous scholar, educator or researcher and you see something that needs correction, clarification or stronger sourcing, I welcome that.

This series is not an attempt to rewrite history by myself.

It is an attempt to find my family's place within history—and preserve the stories of the people who came before me.

They lived.

They loved.

They lost people.

They travelled.

They adapted.

They survived.

And now, almost two hundred years later,

I am trying to remember their names.


#FamilyHistory #Genealogy #IndigenousHistory #PacificNorthwestHistory #IroquoisHistory #Kalapuya #TSouke #OregonCountry #FurTradeHistory #VancouverIslandHistory