***content warning & support resources-See below

the things we forget: what people have been through

We talk about homelessness, addiction, poverty, and people who seem to have given up. But how often do we stop and remember everything that happened before someone reached that point?

People don't all begin in the same place, and they don't all have the same support when life falls apart.

Here are some of the challenges people have faced, especially over the last several years.

1. the pandemic years

• Losing jobs, contracts, businesses, and livelihoods.
• Losing homes because the income needed to keep them disappeared.
• Being separated from family and friends.
• Living with isolation, fear, uncertainty, and grief.
• Facing travel restrictions, testing expenses, quarantine requirements, and lost time.
• Having relationships damaged by disagreements over vaccination and public-health rules.
• Trying to rebuild a life after the emergency measures ended, often without the resources to do so.

Some people, including me, experienced quarantine twice. I spent 30 days in quarantine, wasn't sick, and had to pay for tests before I could return home. Those were real days out of my life, and the experience stayed with me.

Canada's travel rules changed repeatedly throughout the pandemic. For some travellers, testing and quarantine requirements were substantial burdens. Official Canadian border-measures timeline.

2. losing a home

• Rents rising beyond what ordinary people can afford.
• Losing a job and then losing the home that depended on it.
• Being unable to save enough for a damage deposit, first month's rent, or moving expenses.
• Having to rely on friends and family, sometimes at the cost of independence.
• Being told to share a home when privacy and personal safety matter deeply.
• Living with strangers, noise, conflict, insecurity, and the constant worry about belongings.
• Being offered shelter options that don't feel safe or suitable.
• Spending money on storage because there is nowhere permanent to put your possessions.
• Having no car, no stable address, and limited income while trying to navigate an expensive city.

Homelessness isn't always sleeping outside. Sometimes it means sleeping on somebody's couch, watching the calendar, trying not to outstay your welcome, and wondering where you'll go next.

3. poverty that keeps taking

• Living on an income that barely covers food, transportation, telephone bills, and storage.
• Having to choose which bill can wait.
• Losing money to debts, deductions, or benefit repayments.
• Being unable to afford the upfront costs that might help you escape poverty.
• Having to explain your circumstances repeatedly to people who assume you simply haven't tried hard enough.
• Being unable to afford the things that make life feel ordinary: a private room, a quiet night, a decent meal, or a little breathing room.
• Watching an unexpected $100 expense become a crisis.

When you have very little, a small financial setback can have enormous consequences. What looks minor to one person can mean groceries for another.

4. family, friendship, and belonging

• Estrangement from children, parents, siblings, and lifelong friends.
• Losing relationships during the pandemic and never finding a way back.
• Being judged for being poor, unhoused, unemployed, or struggling.
• Depending on someone who later withdraws their help.
• Feeling unwelcome in the very places where you hoped to find safety.
• Carrying grief without having anyone you feel comfortable talking to.
• Watching friends age, become ill, struggle with addiction, or die.
• Being surrounded by people and still feeling profoundly alone.

A person can have family and still have nowhere they feel they belong.

5. the daily exhaustion people don't see

• Poor sleep because the environment is noisy, crowded, or unpredictable.
• Worrying about personal safety while sleeping.
• Having no secure place to keep a phone, money, identification, or a computer.
• Struggling to eat properly or prepare food safely.
• Living with chronic stress while trying to manage ordinary tasks.
• Being physically exhausted from work that is difficult, poorly paid, or insecure.
• Having health concerns without reliable access to care.
• Being expected to make good long-term decisions while dealing with immediate survival needs.

Peace and privacy aren't luxuries for everyone. Sometimes they are what allow a person to recover enough to keep going.

6. young people growing up in a world of loss

Think about the young people in Vancouver who have lost friends to the toxic drug supply.

Some have lost a parent. Some have attended funerals for friends they thought would grow old beside them. Some have watched people they love struggle with addiction, homelessness, trauma, or mental illness.

They are left with grief, unanswered questions, and the knowledge that another phone call could bring more terrible news.

British Columbia recorded 2,253 deaths from unregulated drug toxicity in 2024. Preliminary reporting for 2025 later recorded 1,826 deaths. Even with that decrease, thousands of families, friends, and communities have been affected. BC Coroners Service, 2024 data and 2025 data.

Behind every number was a person. Someone had a favourite song, a laugh, a history, and people who cared about them.

7. why might someone turn to drugs, or feel like checking out?

There is no single explanation, and we should never assume we know an individual's story.

But people may use substances to cope with physical pain, trauma, grief, loneliness, mental distress, or circumstances that feel unbearable. Some are trying to quiet their thoughts for a little while. Some are trying to feel something other than pain. Some are dealing with dependence that has become very difficult to manage.

Others may reach a point where they cannot imagine how their circumstances could change.

That doesn't mean every person who uses drugs wants to die. It doesn't mean poverty inevitably leads to addiction. And it doesn't mean we should give up on anyone.

It means we need to look beyond the behaviour and ask what is happening in that person's life.

And fentanyl makes an already dangerous situation far deadlier. In an unregulated drug supply, people may not know exactly what they are taking or how potent it is.

Understanding someone's pain is not the same as accepting that they should be left to suffer.

8. what happens when society stops seeing people?

We start describing people as burdens, addicts, failures, freeloaders, or lost causes.

We ask why they don't work harder, move somewhere cheaper, find a room, reconcile with their family, or simply make better choices.

But what if they have already tried?

What if they are exhausted? What if their family is gone? What if every affordable room requires sharing with strangers? What if they cannot afford to move? What if they have been trying for years?

What if the person standing in front of us is not someone who never tried, but someone who has run out of options?

We cannot know without listening.

9. what we need to remember

• Housing is stability, not just a roof.
• Food security is dignity, not a reward for being productive.
• Privacy and safety matter.
• Grief can change a person's life for years.
• Addiction is not a complete description of a human being.
• Poverty is not proof of laziness.
• A person can be struggling without being incapable.
• People need support before a crisis becomes a catastrophe.
• Young people need hope, connection, and places where they are wanted.
• Saving lives requires more than counting deaths after they happen.

We cannot bring back everyone who has died. But we can stop treating the people who remain as if their suffering is an inconvenience.

the question we should be asking

I think about how many people have lost their footing since 2019. I think about people who once worked, paid rent, raised children, made art, travelled, and had plans for their future.

Then something happened. Sometimes several things happened, one after another.

And now they are expected to explain why they haven't recovered.

Perhaps we should ask a different question.

What happened to you? What have you lost? What are you carrying? And what would help you feel safe enough to begin again?

We cannot undo every injustice. We cannot promise that life will be fair. But we can listen without humiliating people, offer help without demanding that they prove their worth, and make sure our neighbours know they have not become invisible.

Because the people we call homeless, addicted, broken, or lost are still people.

They are somebody's child, somebody's friend, somebody's parent. They are people who have lived through things we may never fully understand.

And they are still here.

Let's remember that.

**

content warning & support resources

Trigger warning: This article discusses homelessness, poverty, grief, addiction, the toxic drug supply, overdose deaths, and thoughts of suicide. Some of these subjects may be painful for readers who have experienced loss, trauma, or difficult circumstances themselves. Please take care of yourself while reading, and step away if you need to.

This article is intended to encourage understanding, compassion, and discussion. It is not intended to diagnose, judge, or diminish anyone's personal experience.

If you or someone you know is struggling, support is available:

- Canada Suicide Crisis Helpline: Call or text 988, free, 24 hours a day, seven days a week.

- BC Mental Health Support Line: Call 310-6789 (no area code required), 24 hours a day.

- Crisis Centre BC: Visit "crisiscentre.bc.ca" (https://crisiscentre.bc.ca/) for support and resources.

- Immediate danger: Call 911.

If you are grieving someone who has died, struggling with substance use, or simply finding life difficult to manage, you deserve compassion and support. You do not have to wait until things become unbearable to reach out.

Please remember: behind every statistic is a human life, and behind every loss are people who continue to grieve. Let's talk about these realities with care, respect, and kindness.

 

THE DAY

eat the rich now

It started like any other day.

The sun was shining. Dogs barked behind garden fences. Children hurried past with their parents, backpacks bouncing, shoes untied, breakfast still clinging to the corners of their mouths. Buses sighed at the curb. Coffee machines hissed. Somewhere, a radio played an old love song.

And then the newspapers arrived.

It was the headline that turned heads.

EAT THE RICH.

Three words.

No explanation. No byline. No photograph.

Just those three words, printed in enormous black letters across the front page of every major newspaper in the country.

People stopped walking.

A man lowered his coffee cup. A woman standing at a bus stop slowly unfolded her paper, then unfolded it again, as though a different message might appear beneath the first.

Someone laughed.

Someone else said, "What the hell?"

By nine o'clock, the headline was everywhere.

On television screens. On phones. Across digital billboards that had advertised luxury watches and investment opportunities only minutes earlier.

The stock market stumbled.

The news anchors smiled nervously.

The government called an emergency meeting.

And somewhere in a glass tower overlooking the city, a billionaire locked his office door.

Because he had seen something the others hadn't.

There was a photograph on the back page of his newspaper.

It showed a dining room.

A long table. White linen. Silver cutlery. Twelve empty chairs.

At the far end sat a thirteenth chair.

And on the plate in front of it was a human tooth.

---

By noon, the first rumours had begun.

A technology mogul had disappeared from his private island. A property developer had been found hiding in a maintenance room beneath one of his own apartment towers. An investment banker had abandoned his car in the middle of a highway and run barefoot into the woods.

The stories grew stranger by the hour.

A video appeared online showing a crowd outside an exclusive restaurant. The windows were blacked out. Something scraped against the glass from the inside.

Then came the screaming.

The video ended.

Nobody knew who had filmed it.

Nobody knew what had happened inside.

But by evening, the internet was filling with photographs that no one could explain.

A dinner plate on a velvet cushion.

A pair of expensive shoes beside a drain.

A handwritten menu featuring the names of people who, according to the news, were still alive.

The authorities called the images fabricated.

The platforms began deleting them.

That only made them spread faster.

And beneath every image, beneath every rumour, beneath every shaky recording uploaded in the middle of the night, appeared the same three words.

EAT THE RICH.

People began to panic.

Some cheered. Some prayed. Some bought weapons and barricaded their doors. Others stood in the streets holding cardboard signs, unable to decide whether they were witnessing a revolution or the beginning of something far older.

The billionaires hired security.

They moved their families into bunkers.

They turned off their phones.

But the strange thing was this: the people disappearing weren't always the richest.

They were the ones who had become famous for believing themselves untouchable.

The ones whose names appeared in court documents, leaked messages, private flight logs.

The ones who had laughed when asked how ordinary people were supposed to afford a place to live.

One by one, their photographs appeared on the front pages.

Then their names disappeared from the news.

Then their photographs disappeared.

And finally, people began to notice that the stories were no longer about missing men and women.

They were about empty chairs.

---

Sarah had been reading for nearly an hour when she reached the chapter titled The First Supper.

She had picked up the book at a secondhand shop. No author was listed. No publisher. The cover was plain black, with three words embossed in a dull, metallic red.

EAT THE RICH NOW.

She'd thought it was satire.

A strange little underground novel. Something written by an angry person with too much time on their hands.

But the details were unsettling.

The dates.

The locations.

The names.

Some of them were real.

She turned the page.

A photograph had been printed between two chapters. It showed a banquet room, with a chandelier shaped like a crown hanging above a table set for twenty.

Sarah frowned.

She knew that room.

She had seen it on the news last week, in a story about a private gathering of the world's wealthiest investors.

Only the photograph in the book was different.

There were twenty place settings.

Twenty silver plates.

And at the head of the table, a single black napkin folded into the shape of an open mouth.

Sarah felt a cold sensation creep up her spine.

She turned the page.

A list of names.

She recognized the first one.

Then the second.

The third belonged to a man who had vanished two nights earlier. His family had released a statement saying he was taking time away from public life.

The fourth had died in a private hospital, according to an announcement that had been quietly removed from the internet.

Beside each name was a date.

And beside each date, written in red ink, was a single word.

SERVED.

Sarah's hands began to tremble.

She flipped ahead, faster now, pages whispering beneath her fingers.

There were photographs of dining rooms, private jets, underground garages.

There were transcripts of conversations that had never been made public.

There were descriptions of things she couldn't quite bring herself to read.

And then she reached the final page.

It contained a single paragraph.

You laughed when you first heard the rumours. Everyone did. You thought it was a joke, a metaphor, a slogan printed on a protest sign. You thought the world was too civilized for such things.

Below it was a line of text.

Civilization is a very thin tablecloth.

Sarah stared at the words.

Her mouth went dry.

Outside, a dog began barking.

Then another.

Then all the dogs on the street seemed to erupt at once.

Her phone vibrated on the table.

A breaking-news alert.

She looked down.

BILLIONAIRE REPORTED MISSING — POLICE INVESTIGATE UNUSUAL SCENE.

A second alert appeared.

Then a third.

Sarah stood so quickly that the chair toppled behind her.

She remembered the rumours now. The jokes people had made. The strange posts that appeared and vanished. The stories about private kitchens and locked rooms, about people who had paid fortunes to keep certain things quiet.

She had laughed at those stories.

She had told her friends they were ridiculous.

The room seemed to tilt.

She looked back at the book.

The final page had changed.

Or perhaps she simply hadn't noticed the words at the bottom before.

A sentence had been written beneath the paragraph, in the same red ink.

SARAH WILL READ THIS AT 8:17 P.M.

She checked the clock.

8:17.

Her face went white.

The book slid from her fingers.

She stumbled toward the bathroom, barely making it to the sink before she began to vomit.

When she finally raised her head, she saw her reflection in the mirror.

Behind her, on the open book, another line had appeared.

She has finished the first chapter.

And somewhere downstairs, the front door opened.

Sarah stopped breathing.

A voice called her name.

It sounded almost friendly.

Then came the soft, unmistakable scrape of a chair being pulled out at the dining table.

And a voice she had never heard before whispered:

"Whose hungry?"

David Eby: Two Chances, Broken Promises and a Housing Crisis That Won't Go Away

Housing, groceries and the promises British Columbians are still waiting to see fulfilled.

Dear David Eby,

How many chances does a premier get?

You became premier in 2022, and British Columbians gave your government another mandate in 2024. You had time to understand the housing crisis, the cost of groceries, the growing number of people living without homes, and the struggles of ordinary people just trying to survive.

Yet here we are, still asking the same questions.

Where are the results for the people who need help the most?

1. The $1,000 household relief promise

During the 2024 election campaign, you promised a household tax break worth more than $1,000 for an average family, with relief beginning in 2025. You connected that promise to the cost of groceries and everyday essentials.

The original plan for immediate relief was subsequently shelved. Families who were counting on that form of help did not receive the promised payment as originally advertised.

A campaign promise is not the same as money in people's pockets.

Source: BC NDP: David Eby announces household relief

2. 300,000 homes: Where are the affordable options?

In October 2024, Eby announced a plan to unlock 300,000 middle-class homes over the next decade.

But a target is not a completed home, and a completed home is not necessarily an affordable home.

People need to know how many homes have actually been completed, how many are available at rents ordinary people can afford, and how many are within reach of people living on pensions or very low incomes.

There have also been questions about the delivery timeline for the government's proposed first-time buyer financing program, which was intended to support 25,000 homes annually.

Where is the clear public accounting showing whether these promises are reaching the people who need help most?

Source: The Tyee: Eby made promises that connected. What happened to them?

3. Affordable housing put on hold

In July 2026, The Tyee reported that at least 3,500 affordable homes across 25 Metro Vancouver projects were affected by provincial funding decisions.

The reported breakdown included 486 homes cancelled, 1,484 paused and 1,533 left in limbo.

These categories matter. Not every affected home was cancelled, but thousands of homes faced uncertainty.

For someone who already has a home, a delayed development might sound like a bureaucratic problem.

For someone sleeping outside, couch-surfing or watching their last affordable rental disappear, it can mean another year of uncertainty.

How can we talk about solving homelessness while affordable housing projects are being cancelled, paused or left waiting for funding?

Source: The Tyee: BC set to lose 3,500 affordable homes because of budget cuts

4. Building homes is not enough

The province has introduced zoning reforms, supported housing construction and funded projects. Those actions should be acknowledged.

But the housing crisis cannot be measured only by how many homes are announced or how many developments are underway.

We also need to ask:

• How many homes are affordable to people living on disability assistance, pensions or very low incomes?
• How many supportive and non-market homes have actually opened?
• How many people remain homeless while waiting?
• What happens to people who cannot afford market rent and do not qualify for middle-income programs?

A new condo does not automatically become a home for someone living on a few hundred dollars a month.

People need housing they can actually afford, not simply assurances that more housing is coming.

5. Grocery relief: Promises versus reality

In 2024, Eby promised a household tax break to help with everyday expenses. The original plan for immediate relief was subsequently shelved.

Now the BC NDP is promoting proposed measures to tackle grocery prices through competition and limits on profits on basic food items.

Those are different approaches, but neither should be confused with a guaranteed $1,000 payment to every family.

Competition may help reduce prices over time, but people need affordable groceries today.

When a government makes a specific financial promise during an election, voters deserve a clear explanation of what happened to it.

6. What about the people falling through the cracks?

What about people who have been unhoused for years?

What about older people who have worked, raised children, contributed to their communities and now cannot afford a room of their own?

What about people living on small pensions who cannot afford today's rents, never mind save for a down payment?

What about those who need a safe, independent place to live rather than an overcrowded shelter or a housing arrangement that does not suit their needs?

Where is the urgency for them?

Housing policy must include people at the bottom of the income scale, not just first-time buyers, middle-income households and people who can afford market rentals.

A government cannot declare success while people are still being left behind.

7. Two chances. What happens now?

David Eby, you have had two opportunities to lead this province through a housing crisis that has been building for years. Your government has introduced policies and built housing, but important promises have been delayed, changed or left without clear delivery timelines.

British Columbians deserve a straightforward accounting of what was promised, what was delivered, what was cancelled and what remains unfinished.

Not another glossy announcement. Not another list of future intentions.

Actual results.

And this is not just about one premier or one political party. Vancouver Mayor Ken Sim and municipal leaders must also answer for the decisions within their own responsibilities. Housing is a shared responsibility, and passing the blame between levels of government does not give anyone a place to live.

I want to see politicians held accountable for their records, not simply rewarded for making new promises.

If two opportunities to deliver meaningful change have not been enough, voters are entitled to ask whether they want to give the same leadership another chance.

Because a home is not a luxury. Food is not a luxury. Dignity is not a luxury.

They are the foundations of a decent society.

People should not have to wait indefinitely for the basics of life.

Two chances. Now show us the results.

People need homes, food and dignity. Not another election promise.

#housingcrisis #affordablehousing #homelessness #costofliving #groceryprices #housingforall #accountability #britishcolumbia #vancouver #politics

A note about sources and accuracy: I have made every effort to keep the information in this article accurate and to link to sources where possible. Figures and policy details are based on published reports and public announcements available at the time of writing. Promises, proposals, funding decisions and completed projects are not the same thing, and I have tried to distinguish between them. Readers are encouraged to consult the original sources and check for updates, as government policies and housing figures can change. The purpose of this article is to encourage transparency, accountability and an honest conversation about housing affordability and the cost of living in British Columbia.

people aren't products

 people aren't products: whatever happened to understanding one another?

Maybe we've become so focused on asking “What's wrong with this person?” that we've forgotten to ask “How does this person experience the world?”

We live in a time when there seems to be a label for everything. How we think, how we learn, how we remember, how we react to noise, how we socialize, how we grieve, how we move through the world.

Sometimes these labels are useful. They can help people understand themselves, find community, access support, and receive treatment when they need it.

But somewhere along the way, I wonder whether we've started confusing the label with the person.

when everything becomes a market

We live in an economy that finds ways to turn human needs into business opportunities.

There is money in assessments, diagnoses, prescriptions, therapies, programs, and lifelong management. Some of these services are necessary and life-changing. People deserve access to care, and nobody should be shamed for seeking help.

But we should also be willing to ask difficult questions about a society that can profit from identifying problems while investing far less in preventing suffering in the first place.

What about the loneliness that comes from being excluded? The exhaustion of living in poverty? The anxiety created by housing insecurity? The distress of watching the natural world disappear while being told to carry on as usual?

Not every struggle originates inside the individual.

Sometimes we need to look at the world we've built around them.

how did we forget to listen?

Imagine a person who notices patterns before others do. Someone who remembers conversations from decades ago. Someone who hears ordinary sounds more intensely, needs solitude to recover, or sees a situation from a perspective nobody else seems to understand.

Must we immediately decide what that person is?

Could we first ask questions?

What do they notice that others miss? What overwhelms them? What brings them peace? What have they learned through experience? What do they need from the people around them?

Human beings are complicated. Two people can experience the same moment and walk away with entirely different memories of it.

We don't all process the world in the same way. Why should we expect everyone to fit the same mould?

what can we learn from Indigenous knowledge?

Many Indigenous knowledge systems place importance on relationships, community, Elders, responsibilities, and learning through lived experience. Knowledge is not simply information to collect; it can be something carried, shared, practised, and passed between generations.

Indigenous peoples and cultures are diverse, with their own traditions and understandings of human differences. There is no single Indigenous worldview. But there is much to reflect on in approaches that emphasize relationship and responsibility rather than viewing a person in isolation.

What if we spent more time learning from one another?

What if an older person had opportunities to share what they had learned, rather than being dismissed as out of touch? What if a young person who questioned the status quo was heard rather than immediately judged? What if someone who needed a different way of living was met with curiosity instead of suspicion?

We don't have to romanticize the past to recognize that community, intergenerational knowledge, and belonging matter.

people aren't problems to be managed

I worry that we've become too comfortable treating human beings as categories to sort, statistics to measure, risks to manage, and consumers to target.

We see it in healthcare, education, housing, employment, and social media. We measure productivity. We count economic contributions. We assess whether someone fits the system.

But what happens to people who don't fit?

What happens when someone is poor, unconventional, sensitive, independent, or unwilling to follow the crowd? What happens when a person has something valuable to offer but doesn't have the credentials, money, connections, or personality that society rewards?

A person's worth should not depend on how easily they fit into an institution or how much money they generate.

And understanding someone does not mean ignoring their difficulties or refusing them help. It means seeing the whole person, not reducing them to a diagnosis, a problem, or a stereotype.

perhaps we need to recover our curiosity

I don't pretend to have all the answers. I simply wonder whether we've lost something important in our rush to explain everything.

Perhaps we need to become better listeners.

Perhaps we need to make more room for people who experience life differently.

Perhaps we need to remember that a diagnosis can describe certain characteristics or difficulties without defining an entire human being.

And perhaps we need to question an economic system that can place a price on almost anything while struggling to recognize the value of kindness, patience, wisdom, creativity, and genuine human connection.

Not everything valuable can be measured.

Not every difference needs to be corrected.

Not every struggle is an individual failure.

And not every person needs to be put into a box before we can treat them with respect.

People aren't products. They're not problems to be solved or markets to be captured. They're human beings to be understood.

Maybe a better starting point — for healthcare, for education, for our communities, and for how we treat one another — is a simple question:

How does this person experience the world?

And then, instead of rushing to answer for them, we could do something that seems increasingly rare.

We could listen.

Because understanding one another shouldn't have to be profitable to matter.

Reflective Questions

Have we become too quick to label people instead of understanding them?

Can a label help someone while still limiting how others see them?

What have we lost by placing so much value on productivity and profit?

How can we make more room for people who experience the world differently?

 

dear mark carney: your big ideas aren't working for vancouver

dear prime minister carney,

you talk about building a stronger canada, economic growth, investment and a future filled with opportunity. but have you looked at vancouver lately? have you looked at the people who can no longer afford to live here?

vancouver sucks.

there, i said it.

a city surrounded by breathtaking mountains, forests and ocean has become a place where ordinary people struggle to afford a roof over their heads. artists are pushed out. workers can't afford to live near their jobs. young people wonder whether they'll ever own a home. longtime residents watch their neighbourhoods change while the cost of staying keeps climbing.

and now we're hearing about more than $4 billion worth of unsold condos in vancouver — roughly 5,400 units in june.

how does this make sense?

we have people without homes and homes without buyers. we have housing treated as an investment while human beings are left wondering where they'll sleep. we have luxury developments and unaffordable rents, while people who contribute to their communities are increasingly priced out of them.

this didn't begin yesterday. vancouver's housing crisis has been building for years, through successive governments and policies that have failed to make housing affordable for enough people.

so here's my question, prime minister: when do we stop measuring success by investment dollars and start measuring it by whether people can actually afford to live in canada?

your government has presented big ideas about building homes, attracting investment and strengthening the canadian economy. but announcements aren't homes, investment isn't affordability, and economic growth means very little to someone who can't pay the rent.

we need to know whether these plans will produce homes people can afford, not simply more expensive properties or another opportunity for investors.

we also need transparency and accountability in real estate. when people see properties sitting empty, luxury businesses that appear barely active, and extraordinary wealth beside growing hardship, they ask questions. allegations of money laundering must be investigated on evidence, not rumours. financial rules must be enforced fairly, whoever the people involved happen to be.

and let's talk about displacement.

a city shouldn't become a place where only the wealthy can remain. people who have lived here for decades shouldn't feel like strangers in their own neighbourhoods. indigenous communities shouldn't have to fight endlessly for their rights and land. artists shouldn't have to abandon the places where they create. young people shouldn't have to leave their home province to find a future.

canada can welcome newcomers and still protect existing communities. those goals aren't mutually exclusive. the problem is an economic system that gives people with money far more choices than people without it.

i've watched vancouver become increasingly difficult for ordinary people to live in. i know what housing insecurity feels like. this isn't an abstract debate about market trends or economic theory. it's about dignity, stability and whether a person has a place in the world.

your big ideas must work for ordinary people, prime minister — not just look impressive on paper.

build housing people can afford. protect renters. address speculation and vacant properties. enforce financial regulations. work with provinces and municipalities to make housing a human necessity rather than simply an investment vehicle.

and publish measurable results. how many genuinely affordable homes are being delivered? how many people are able to remain in their communities? are rents becoming more manageable? are people experiencing less housing insecurity?

show us the outcomes, not just the announcements.

because people are tired. they're worried about their children, their neighbours and their own futures. they're losing faith that governments understand what life has become for those without wealth.

vancouver shouldn't be a cautionary tale about what happens when a beautiful city becomes too expensive for the people who give it life.

canada needs a future where ordinary people can afford to live, where communities remain communities, and where prosperity isn't reserved for those who already have the most.

mark carney, the question isn't whether canada can attract more money. it's whether canada can build a country where people can afford to live.

right now, too many people are still waiting for that answer.

— tina winterlik
blogger, artist, and a person who believes people should matter more than property values

5,400 unsold condos. Billions of dollars in inventory. People struggling to find homes. Dear Canada, something is seriously wrong. When will we start putting people before property values?

#VancouverHousing #HousingCrisis #AffordableHousing #HousingIsAHumanRight #MarkCarney #Canada #HousingInequality #EmptyHomes #CostOfLiving #PeopleBeforeProfit

what happens to people living in high-rise towers when disaster strikes?

 

what happens to people living in high-rise towers when disaster strikes?

I keep thinking about Vancouver, Burnaby and Surrey, and how many people live dozens of floors above the ground.

We talk about hurricanes, atmospheric rivers, flooding and extreme weather. We talk about power outages and roads becoming impassable.

But what happens when all these things happen at once?

What happens when the power goes out for days and the elevators stop working?

I have lived in a building where elevators break down regularly. One was out of service for two months before it was finally repaired, and now another is broken.

Imagine that happening during a major storm.

Think about seniors, people with disabilities, people who are ill, parents with small children, and anyone who cannot walk down dozens of flights of stairs.

How do they get food, drinking water and medication?

Who checks on them?

What happens if water pumps fail and the water supply to upper floors is disrupted?

What happens if roads are flooded, deliveries stop, emergency services are overwhelmed, and people cannot safely leave their buildings?

Where do these people go? What is the plan?

Vancouver, Burnaby and Surrey have enormous numbers of people living in apartment towers. We need to ask whether emergency planning accounts for the needs of everyone inside them, especially during prolonged power outages caused by severe weather.

This isn't about earthquakes. I'm talking about hurricanes, atmospheric rivers, flooding and destructive storms that can knock out essential services.

We have seen what happened during Hurricane Katrina. We have seen what happened during the 2021 floods in British Columbia.

We cannot assume that because someone has a roof over their head, they will be safe when disaster strikes.

I want to know what our municipalities, building managers and emergency planners are doing to prepare for these situations.

If the power goes out for a week, the elevators stop and the roads flood, who makes sure nobody is left stranded in their own home?

These are questions we should be asking now, not after the disaster.

I sincerely hope we never have to find out the hard way.

#EmergencyPreparedness #Vancouver #Burnaby #SurreyBC #ExtremeWeather #FloodPreparedness #PowerOutage #HighRiseLiving #ClimateResilience #NobodyLeftBehind

i am scared. and i think we need to pay attention

 

i am scared. and i think we need to pay attention.

I have been studying hurricanes for many years, ever since learning about Hurricane Pauline (Paulina), which devastated Mexico's Pacific coast in 1997, and the destruction it brought to places including the region around Shambhala.

My dear friend Gloria once told me about being trapped in a room during a hurricane with a young man. For hours, she had to hold the roof down with one arm because, if she let go, it threatened to blow away.

Imagine that. Holding a roof over your head while a hurricane tries to tear your world apart.

Then came Hurricane Agatha in 2022, which struck the Oaxaca coast. I watched it hit Zipolite, a place I love, and tried to warn people as the storm approached.

Then I watched the little green lights on Messenger disappear, one by one.

No power. No communication. No way of knowing who was safe.

Days of watching, waiting, wondering and worrying.

Finally, after five days, I heard from my friends. They were okay.

But the restaurant where I had painted all my murals was destroyed.

I have experienced major storms in British Columbia and in Mexico. I have watched the weather, studied the patterns and listened to people who have lived through things most of us can barely imagine.

I also watched the Spike Lee film When the Levees Broke: A Requiem in Four Acts, about Hurricane Katrina and the catastrophic failures surrounding it.

People told to evacuate without having the means to leave. People sent to shelters that could not adequately protect them. Families stranded, people dying, loved ones left behind. Communities abandoned while they waited for help.

And now I watch what is happening in Mexico and the United States, and I worry.

Because a hurricane is one thing. What happens when the power goes out, communications fail, roads flood and emergency services cannot reach people is another.

What happens when governments aren't prepared, when resources don't reach those who need them, and when vulnerable people are left to fend for themselves?

I worry about Vancouver. Are we truly prepared for a major disaster?

I remember what happened in the Fraser Valley during the November 2021 atmospheric river. Floodwaters overwhelmed communities, roads and farms. Millions of dollars in agricultural losses were reported, including devastating livestock losses. People were cut off, and supply chains were disrupted.

We have seen what extreme weather can do here, too.

And we know that climate change is increasing the risks associated with many extreme weather events, although no one can tell us exactly when or where the next catastrophe will strike.

LOOK. LEARN. PAY ATTENTION. PREPARE.

Learn what happened before. Learn from the people who survived. Ask difficult questions about evacuation plans, emergency shelters, communications, food supplies and who will help people who cannot help themselves.

Don't wait until the power goes out to wonder what you will do.

I hope I am wrong about how serious things could become. I really do.

But I have watched friends disappear from the radar during a hurricane. I have waited days to find out if people I love were alive. I have seen places I care about destroyed.

I know these things are not just headlines.

They are people's lives.

And if we repeat the failures of Katrina on a large scale, the consequences could be catastrophic.

We cannot stop every storm. But we can learn from the last one. We can prepare. And we can refuse to accept that people being abandoned is simply the way things have to be.

Please take this seriously. Look around. Ask questions. Pay attention to what is happening.

I hope I am wrong. ❤️

10 questions Vancouver and Surrey need to answer before the next big storm

I keep thinking about Hurricane Katrina, the film When the Levees Broke, and the terrible lessons we should never forget.

We have our own history here. The 1962 Columbus Day windstorm brought destructive winds to the Lower Mainland. In 2021, an atmospheric river flooded highways, isolated communities and devastated farms across British Columbia.

So I have some questions for our local governments and emergency planners.

1. If a storm like the 1962 windstorm hit Vancouver or Surrey today, how prepared are we? Are our buildings, trees, power systems and emergency services ready?

2. Where do people go when their homes become unsafe? Are there designated emergency shelters, and how will residents find out which ones are open?

3. What happens to people who have no car? How will seniors, people with disabilities, families with children and people experiencing homelessness evacuate safely?

4. What is the plan if the power goes out for days? How will people access drinking water, food, heating, medical supplies and reliable information?

5. What happens if mobile networks and internet services fail? Will emergency information be broadcast over radio, delivered door to door, or made available through other reliable methods?

6. Are Vancouver and Surrey prepared for major flooding? What happens if roads are underwater, bridges are closed, and neighbourhoods are cut off?

7. What happens to people who have nowhere else to go? Will emergency accommodation be available to people who cannot stay with friends or family? What about their pets and essential belongings?

8. How will emergency services cope if several neighbourhoods need help at once? Are there clear priorities, backup resources and plans for prolonged emergencies?

9. Who checks on the most vulnerable residents? What happens to people living alone, people who are ill, and those who cannot receive or act on emergency warnings without assistance?

10. Have we genuinely learned from Katrina and the 2021 floods? Are our emergency plans tested, publicly understood and properly resourced, or are we hoping that nothing this serious will happen here?

I am not asking these questions because I know a disaster is coming. I am asking because we cannot predict every storm, and preparation is not something we should leave until the last minute.

I have watched hurricanes hit places I love in Mexico. I have watched friends disappear offline as the power failed, waited days to hear they were safe, and seen places I cared about destroyed.

I have also watched what happened when people were left waiting for help after Katrina.

We cannot afford to assume that someone else will take care of everything when disaster strikes.

Vancouver. Surrey. British Columbia.

Where is the plan? Where do people go? And how do we make sure nobody is left behind?

I would genuinely like to hear from our emergency planners and local governments. What provisions are in place, what gaps remain, and what should residents know now?

Please look, learn, ask questions and prepare. I sincerely hope we never need these plans on a catastrophic scale. But I would rather ask these questions today than wish we had asked them yesterday.

#EmergencyPreparedness #Vancouver #SurreyBC #ExtremeWeather #StormReady #FloodPreparedness #DisasterPlanning #ClimateResilience #CommunitySafety #NobodyLeftBehind

why i love frida kahlo 💔🌺

 

FRIDA painting by Zipolita

why i love frida kahlo 💔🌺

Many people recognize Frida Kahlo’s face, her flowers, her colourful dresses and her extraordinary paintings. But how many really know what she lived through?

In 1925, Frida was involved in a devastating bus accident that left her with serious, lifelong injuries. She endured years of chronic pain, numerous operations and long periods of recovery. Painting became a way to express what words sometimes couldn't.

Her father, Guillermo Kahlo, was a German-born professional photographer. Through photography, Frida was exposed to composition, light, contrast and the art of really seeing. Those visual skills would become part of the artist she grew into.

Then there was Diego Rivera.

Their relationship was passionate, complicated and painful. Diego had numerous affairs, including one with Frida's younger sister, Cristina. Imagine that heartbreak. Betrayal by the man you loved was devastating enough, but betrayal involving your own sister must have cut even deeper.

Frida and Diego separated, divorced in 1939, and remarried in 1940. Frida also had relationships of her own, including relationships with women, at a time when being open about such things could carry serious social consequences.

But Frida was never simply Diego Rivera's wife.

She was an artist in her own right. She painted her pain, her identity, her Mexican heritage, her experiences as a woman and the complicated realities of being human. Her paintings began finding international audiences during her lifetime, although her fame grew enormously after her death in 1954.

What I love about Frida is that she didn't paint a pretty picture of life just to make other people comfortable. She painted what she knew. She made her suffering visible without allowing it to be the only thing that defined her.

She deserved tenderness. She deserved loyalty. She deserved a life with less pain.

And yet, through everything, she created art that continues to speak to people decades later.

Perhaps that's why her work means so much to so many of us. Not because suffering makes someone a great artist, but because Frida found a way to express what suffering, love, betrayal and resilience can feel like.

Frida Kahlo wasn't just a face on a canvas. She was a whole human being, with a complicated life, an extraordinary eye and a voice that still refuses to be silenced. 🌺

#FridaKahlo #WomenInArt #ArtHistory #WomenArtists #PhotographyAndArt #Resilience #MexicanArt #FridaKahloForever #ArtAndLife #WomenWhoInspire

HEY! WHERE IS THE WARNING? CYANOTYPE IS CHEMISTRY, NOT JUST CRAFTS!

 HEY! WHERE IS THE WARNING? CYANOTYPE IS CHEMISTRY, NOT JUST CRAFTS!

I’m seeing cyanotype printing everywhere on social media lately, and as a photographer who has hand-printed hundreds of photographs, I’m concerned and frankly upset by the lack of safety information in some demonstrations.

Traditional cyanotype uses two chemicals: ferric ammonium citrate and potassium ferricyanide. These are not simply harmless art supplies. They require proper handling, storage and disposal.

I’m watching people rinse their prints with garden hoses directly onto lawns without any discussion of where the chemical runoff goes or what it might mean for the environment.

Potassium ferricyanide can release highly toxic hydrogen cyanide gas under strongly acidic conditions. Skin and eye protection, safe handling and proper disposal instructions matter.

And what happens when these kits become Christmas presents for children?

Will parents know what chemicals are in the box? Will children understand the precautions? Will leftover solutions be poured down the sink or rinsed into the garden? Will anyone explain what NOT to do?

Where are the warnings in these videos? Where is the information about chemical safety and environmental responsibility?

I’m not saying people shouldn’t enjoy cyanotype photography. I’m saying that demonstrating a chemical photographic process without discussing its risks and precautions is irresponsible.

As artists, photographers and educators, we have a duty to share the whole picture — not just the pretty blue prints.

BEAUTIFUL ART SHOULD NEVER COME AT THE EXPENSE OF INFORMED SAFETY.

#Cyanotype #ArtSafety #ChemicalSafety #EnvironmentalProtection #ResponsibleArt

world homelessness day — october 10

 

world homelessness day — october 10

Today, October 10, is World Homeless Day, a day to bring attention to homelessness around the world and the need for safe, affordable housing for everyone.

Today is also the day of a housing march, bringing people together to raise their voices and demand change.

Homelessness is not just about sleeping on the street. It includes people couch-surfing, living in temporary accommodations, staying wherever they can find a place, and those one missed paycheque away from losing their homes.

Behind every statistic is a human being. Someone's mother, father, daughter, son, friend or neighbour. People who deserve dignity, security and a place to call home.

I've been without a permanent home since 2019. I know firsthand that housing insecurity isn't always visible. You can be resourceful, creative and determined, and still struggle to find a place you can afford.

Housing is a basic human need, not a luxury. We cannot keep treating homelessness as though it is an inevitable part of society.

Today's housing march is an opportunity to stand together, be heard and remind decision-makers that people need real solutions, not just promises.

A home should be a human right, not a privilege reserved for those who can afford it.

On World Homeless Day, let's remember those who are struggling, those who are fighting to keep a roof over their heads, and those who have been left behind.

Everyone deserves a safe place to sleep, a door they can close, and the peace of mind that comes with knowing they have a home.

#WorldHomelessDay #HousingIsAHumanRight #HousingMarch #EndHomelessness #AffordableHousing

 

housing is a human right — march for homes, not just promises

Today, October 10, people are taking to the streets for housing. I wish we lived in a world where we didn't have to march to remind governments that everyone deserves a safe place to call home.

I've been without a permanent home since 2019. I've couch-surfed, looked after cats, cleaned houses, and done what I can to survive. I'm still trying to get by until my pension begins in February. I know firsthand that being without a home isn't a personal failure. Sometimes, life changes in ways you never expected, and finding your way back becomes almost impossible.

We need more than temporary solutions. We need affordable housing that people can actually afford on their incomes. We need options that respect people's dignity, privacy, independence, and individual circumstances.

A shelter isn't the same as a home. A single room isn't necessarily a solution. And telling people to pull themselves up by their bootstraps doesn't help when the cost of living keeps rising and the places people once could afford are disappearing.

Housing is a basic human need. It should not be a privilege reserved for those who can afford increasingly unrealistic rents or qualify for limited programs.

Today, I stand with everyone marching for housing, everyone who has a home but fears losing it, and everyone still searching for a place to belong.

People before profits. Homes before speculation. Dignity before bureaucracy.

Because everyone deserves a roof over their head and a little peace of mind.

#HousingIsAHumanRight #HousingForAll #AffordableHousing #Homelessness #EndHomelessness #HousingCrisis #RightToHousing #Vancouver #PovertyIsNotAChoice #DignityForAll

Tell me history of Mad Max

 I asked ai

Tell me history of Mad Max

Absolutely — Mad Max has a surprisingly interesting history, especially because the first movie was made for very little money in Australia and became a worldwide phenomenon.

🚗 Where it began — Mad Max (1979)

The original Mad Max was created by Australian filmmaker George Miller, who had worked as a doctor before becoming a filmmaker.

Miller and producer Byron Kennedy made the movie on an extremely small budget. The basic premise was:

What happens when society starts breaking down and ordinary people become desperate?

It takes place in a near-future Australia where fuel is becoming scarce, violence is escalating and the police are struggling to maintain order.

Max Rockatansky, played by a very young Mel Gibson, is a police officer who wants to leave the increasingly violent world behind.

Then his family is targeted by a vicious motorcycle gang.

That transforms Max from a man trying to escape the violence into the "Mad Max" of the title.

Interestingly, the first movie isn't really the post-apocalyptic wasteland people associate with Mad Max. It's more like a society on the edge of collapse.

---

🔥 Mad Max 2: The Road Warrior — 1981

This is where the mythology really exploded.

Mad Max 2 takes place after civilization has essentially collapsed.

Oil and gasoline have become incredibly valuable, and survivors fight over fuel.

This introduced much of the visual language people now think of as "Mad Max":

• enormous customized vehicles
• leather and scavenged clothing
• desert wastelands
• gangs
• fortified settlements
• people fighting over gasoline
• Max as the mysterious wandering outsider

It was released internationally as The Road Warrior in the United States, partly because American distributors thought audiences might not know what "Mad Max" meant.

And it became hugely influential.

---

⚡ Beyond Thunderdome — 1985

Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome moved even further into mythology.

Max arrives at Bartertown, a bizarre settlement run by Aunty Entity, played by Tina Turner.

And of course:

"Two men enter. One man leaves."

That's the famous Thunderdome.

The movie is unusual because it has more of a fairy-tale quality than the previous films. Max eventually encounters a group of children who have grown up isolated from the old world.

---

🏜️ Then came a VERY long wait

George Miller wanted to make another Mad Max movie, but the project spent decades in development.

There were financing problems, changing plans and eventually even the September 11 attacks and the Iraq War affected production logistics.

Meanwhile, the Mad Max idea became enormously influential on popular culture.

You can see its fingerprints in countless post-apocalyptic movies, video games, costumes and even car culture.

---

🔥 Mad Max: Fury Road — 2015

Then Miller came back and absolutely blew the doors off.

Mad Max: Fury Road starred Tom Hardy as Max and Charlize Theron as Imperator Furiosa.

And here's the fascinating part:

Furiosa practically became the main character.

The story follows Furiosa stealing five women from the tyrant Immortan Joe and trying to get them to safety.

It was filmed largely with real vehicles and practical stunts, rather than relying entirely on computer effects.

The result was one of the most visually spectacular action films ever made.

It won six Academy Awards.

---

👑 Furiosa — 2024

Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga went backward in the timeline.

Instead of continuing Max's story, Miller told Furiosa's origin story.

Anya Taylor-Joy plays the older Furiosa, while Alyla Browne plays her as a child.

It explains where Furiosa came from, how she ended up in Immortan Joe's world, and how she became the warrior we meet in Fury Road.

---

🧩 And the really interesting thing about Mad Max...

The movies aren't necessarily meant to be a perfectly consistent historical timeline.

George Miller has described Max almost like an Australian myth or legend.

Different stories are told about him. Details don't always line up perfectly. Even Max himself becomes almost a mythical figure wandering through the ruins of civilization.

So the overall evolution is:

1979: Society is collapsing
↓
1981: Civilization has collapsed
↓
1985: Survivors create strange new societies
↓
2015: Full-blown post-apocalyptic mythology
↓
2024: We go back and learn Furiosa's story

And underneath all the crazy cars and explosions, there's a recurring theme Miller keeps returning to:

What happens to human beings when resources disappear and civilization's rules stop protecting them?

That's why Mad Max has lasted so long. It's not really about cars. It's about what people become when the world they depended on disappears.

#MadMax, #GeorgeMiller, #MelGibson, #TheRoadWarrior, #BeyondThunderdome, #FuryRoad, #Furiosa, #PostApocalyptic, #AustralianCinema, #MovieHistory

Aging can be harder than people realize.

 Aging can be harder than people realize.

There’s a strange attitude that if you aren’t currently in a conventional paid job, somehow you have never worked, never contributed, and have nothing of value to offer.

Dog walking, caregiving, cleaning, helping others, raising children, volunteering, creating art, supporting family and friends — apparently some kinds of work only count when someone is handing you a paycheque.

It can be heartbreaking to feel that people see you as less intelligent, less capable, or even a burden simply because your circumstances have changed.

A person’s worth does not disappear when their employment does.

We are more than our job title, our income, our age, or what we can produce for someone else.

People deserve dignity throughout their whole lives. ❤️

#Aging #Dignity #TheValueOfWork #CareWork #Caregiving #InvisibleWork #HumanWorth #Classism #Community #Kindness

Il était une fois... Approchez, les enfants

 IL ÉTAIT UNE FOIS — APPROCHEZ, LES ENFANTS

Il était une fois...

Approchez, les enfants.

J’ai une histoire triste à vous raconter.

C’est une histoire vraie.

Et je vous la raconte parce que cela pourrait se reproduire — peut-être plus tôt que nous aimerions le penser.

Je ne veux pas vous faire peur.

Je veux que vous sachiez.

Parce que lorsque nous savons ce qui s’est passé auparavant, nous avons de meilleures chances de nous préparer, de nous protéger, de protéger les personnes que nous aimons et de protéger toute notre famille humaine, autant que nous le pouvons.

Alors prenez une tasse de thé.

Prenez un biscuit.

Et peut-être un mouchoir.

Parce que celle-ci est un peu triste.

Ensuite, nous parlerons de ce que nous pouvons faire.

---

Il était une fois, dans les années 1870...

C’était un monde sans satellites.

Sans applications météo.

Sans téléphones qui vibraient pour annoncer une alerte d’urgence.

Sans ordinateurs qui surveillaient les océans.

Les gens devaient regarder le ciel, les rivières, les récoltes et les animaux — et essayer de comprendre ce que le monde en train de changer essayait de leur dire.

Et puis quelque chose d’extraordinaire s’est produit.

Les océans ont changé.

L’atmosphère a changé.

Le temps a changé.

Et en 1877–78, un phénomène El Niño exceptionnellement puissant est devenu une partie d’une histoire climatique beaucoup plus vaste.

Ce qui a suivi fut l’une des crises alimentaires liées au climat les plus dévastatrices de l’histoire moderne.

Les gens n’ont pas simplement connu du mauvais temps.

Ils ont connu la faim.

Et des millions de personnes ont perdu la vie.

Maintenant, approchez-vous un peu, parce que c’est ici que cette vieille histoire devient importante pour nous...

Elle ne s’est pas arrêtée à l’autre bout du monde.

Le climat ne respecte pas les frontières.

Une sécheresse dans un endroit peut affecter l’alimentation ailleurs.

Les inondations peuvent détruire les fermes.

Les mauvaises récoltes peuvent faire exploser le prix des aliments.

Et lorsque les gens ne peuvent plus survivre là où ils vivent, ils partent.

Ils cherchent un endroit sûr.

Un endroit où il y a de l’eau.

Un endroit où il y a de la nourriture.

Un endroit où vivent des gens prêts à aider.

Et cela nous ramène à notre vieille histoire...

À **Victoria.

À Seattle.

À la vallée du Fraser.

À l’endroit qui allait bientôt devenir Vancouver.

Et à Ottawa.**

Parce que même si Vancouver n’était pas encore une ville, le fleuve Fraser montrait déjà aux gens de quoi il était capable.

En 1879, après les terribles années qui venaient de s’écouler, le Fraser est de nouveau monté de façon spectaculaire.

La région de Sumas a été inondée.

Les terres agricoles ont été endommagées.

Un pont a été emporté par les eaux.

Les gens regardaient l’eau emporter des morceaux de ce qui leur permettait de vivre.

Imaginez-vous là, sans radar météorologique.

Sans téléphone.

Sans notification d’urgence.

Simplement à regarder le fleuve monter.

Et à vous demander :

Jusqu’où va-t-il monter ?

C’est cette partie de l’histoire que je veux que nous retenions.

Pas parce que je pense que l’histoire va se répéter exactement.

Elle ne se répétera pas de la même façon.

Mais parce que la nature a une mémoire plus longue que la nôtre.

Et aujourd’hui, nous voyons se développer un autre phénomène El Niño très puissant.

Alors cette fois, peut-être pouvons-nous faire quelque chose que les gens des années 1870 ne pouvaient pas faire.

Nous pouvons regarder en arrière.

Nous pouvons regarder autour de nous.

Et nous pouvons nous préparer.

Pas dans la panique.

Avec amour.

Pour nous-mêmes.

Pour nos voisins.

Pour les agriculteurs.

Pour les enfants.

Pour les aînés.

Pour les personnes qui n’ont nulle part où aller en sécurité.

Pour les personnes à l’autre bout du monde.

Pour toute notre famille humaine.

Parce que c’est vraiment de cela que parle cette histoire.

Pas de peur.

De préparation.

Et peut-être que, si nous sommes suffisamment intelligents...

la prochaine génération n’aura pas à raconter cette histoire comme une tragédie.

Peut-être la racontera-t-elle comme l’histoire du moment où l’humanité a vu les signes avant-coureurs...

et a réellement écouté.

---

Questions pour réfléchir

Enseignants et enseignantes :

1. Qu’enseignez-vous à la prochaine génération sur la façon de survivre et de prendre soin d’un monde en changement — au-delà du contenu des manuels scolaires ?

Élèves et étudiants :

2. Que pouvez-vous apprendre et faire dès maintenant pour ne pas être démunis lorsque votre communauté fera face à une crise ?

Politiciens et responsables publics :

3. Si vous savez que les bouleversements climatiques peuvent menacer l’alimentation, le logement et la sécurité, que faites-vous réellement pour préparer votre communauté — et où est le plan ?

Infirmiers et infirmières :

4. Lorsque la prochaine urgence submergera le système de santé, qui prendra soin des personnes qui n’ont nulle part ailleurs où se tourner — et êtes-vous prêts ?

Médecins et médecins :

5. Traitez-vous les maladies liées au climat et les catastrophes comme des réalités qui affectent déjà la santé humaine, ou attendons-nous encore que la crise devienne impossible à ignorer ?

Agriculteurs et agricultrices :

6. Si une sécheresse, une inondation ou des conditions météorologiques extrêmes menacent vos récoltes, que pouvons-nous faire dès maintenant pour protéger l’approvisionnement alimentaire ?

Scientifiques :

7. Qu’observez-vous que les gens ordinaires doivent comprendre — et quel avertissement sommes-nous en train de ne pas entendre ?

Stars du rock et du cinéma :

8. Des millions de personnes vous écoutent. À quoi allez-vous utiliser cette voix lorsque votre message pourrait réellement sauver des vies ?

Dirigeants d’entreprises :

9. Lorsque la prochaine urgence climatique arrivera, votre priorité sera-t-elle de protéger les personnes et les communautés — ou de protéger les profits ?

Nous tous :

10. Lorsque l’histoire se penchera sur ce moment, dira-t-elle que nous connaissions les signes avant-coureurs et que nous avons agi — ou que nous les connaissions et que nous n’avons rien fait ?

Tina Winterlik — mercredi 7 octobre 2026

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Érase una vez... Acérquense, niños

 

ÉRASE UNA VEZ — ACÉRQUENSE, NIÑOS

Érase una vez...

Acérquense, niños.

Hay una historia triste que necesito contarles.

Es una historia verdadera.

Y se las cuento porque podría volver a suceder — quizá antes de lo que nos gustaría pensar.

No quiero asustarlos.

Quiero que sepan.

Porque cuando sabemos lo que sucedió antes, tenemos más posibilidades de prepararnos, protegernos a nosotros mismos y a las personas que amamos, y proteger a toda nuestra familia mundial tanto como podamos.

Así que sírvanse una taza de té.

Tomen una galleta.

Y quizá un pañuelo.

Porque esta historia es un poquito triste.

Después hablaremos de lo que podemos hacer.

---

Érase una vez, en la década de 1870...

Había un mundo sin satélites.

Sin aplicaciones meteorológicas.

Sin teléfonos que vibraran con alertas de emergencia.

Sin computadoras observando los océanos.

La gente tenía que mirar el cielo, los ríos, los cultivos y los animales — y tratar de entender lo que el mundo cambiante estaba tratando de decirles.

Y entonces ocurrió algo extraordinario.

Los océanos cambiaron.

La atmósfera cambió.

El clima cambió.

Y en 1877–78, un fenómeno de El Niño extraordinariamente poderoso se convirtió en parte de una historia climática mucho más grande.

Lo que siguió fue una de las crisis alimentarias relacionadas con el clima más devastadoras de la historia moderna.

La gente no tuvo que enfrentarse simplemente a un mal tiempo.

Tuvo que enfrentarse al hambre.

Y millones de personas perdieron la vida.

Ahora acérquense un poquito más, porque aquí es donde esta vieja historia se vuelve importante para nosotros...

No se quedó al otro lado del mundo.

El clima no respeta fronteras.

Una sequía en un lugar puede afectar los alimentos en otro.

Las inundaciones pueden destruir las granjas.

Las cosechas perdidas pueden hacer que los precios de los alimentos se disparen.

Y cuando las personas ya no pueden sobrevivir donde están, se mudan.

Buscan un lugar seguro.

Un lugar con agua.

Un lugar con comida.

Un lugar donde haya personas dispuestas a ayudar.

Y eso nos trae de vuelta nuestra vieja historia...

A **Victoria.

A Seattle.

Al Valle del Fraser.

Al lugar que pronto se convertiría en Vancouver.

Y a Ottawa.**

Porque aunque Vancouver todavía no era una ciudad, el río Fraser ya estaba mostrando a la gente de lo que era capaz.

En 1879, después de los terribles años que habían pasado, el Fraser volvió a crecer de manera dramática.

La zona de Sumas se inundó.

Las tierras agrícolas sufrieron daños.

Un puente fue arrastrado por las aguas.

La gente observaba cómo el agua se llevaba partes de aquello de lo que dependían para vivir.

Imaginen estar allí sin un radar meteorológico.

Sin teléfono.

Sin una notificación de emergencia.

Simplemente mirando cómo subía el río.

Y preguntándose:

¿Hasta dónde va a subir?

Esa es la parte de la historia que quiero que recordemos.

No porque piense que la historia vaya a repetirse exactamente.

No será así.

Sino porque la naturaleza tiene una memoria más larga que la nuestra.

Y hoy estamos viendo desarrollarse otro fenómeno de El Niño muy fuerte.

Así que esta vez, quizá podamos hacer algo que la gente de la década de 1870 no podía hacer.

Podemos mirar hacia atrás.

Podemos mirar a nuestro alrededor.

Y podemos prepararnos.

No con pánico.

Con amor.

Por nosotros mismos.

Por nuestros vecinos.

Por los agricultores.

Por los niños.

Por los ancianos.

Por las personas que no tienen un lugar seguro al que ir.

Por las personas al otro lado del mundo.

Por toda nuestra familia mundial.

Porque de eso trata realmente esta historia.

No del miedo.

De la preparación.

Y quizá, si somos lo suficientemente inteligentes...

la próxima generación no tendrá que contar esta historia como una tragedia.

Quizá la contarán como la historia del momento en que la humanidad vio las señales de advertencia...

y realmente escuchó.

---

Preguntas para reflexionar

Maestros y maestras:

1. ¿Qué están enseñando a la próxima generación sobre cómo sobrevivir y cuidar de un mundo cambiante — más allá de lo que dice el libro de texto?

Estudiantes:

2. ¿Qué pueden aprender y hacer ahora para no sentirse indefensos cuando su comunidad enfrente una crisis?

Políticos y responsables públicos:

3. Si saben que la alteración del clima puede amenazar los alimentos, la vivienda y la seguridad, ¿qué están haciendo realmente para preparar a su comunidad — y dónde está el plan?

Enfermeros y enfermeras:

4. Cuando la próxima emergencia sobrecargue el sistema de salud, ¿quién cuidará de las personas que no tienen otro lugar adonde acudir — y están preparados?

Médicos y médicas:

5. ¿Están tratando las enfermedades relacionadas con el clima y los desastres como algo que ya está afectando la salud humana, o seguimos esperando a que la crisis sea imposible de ignorar?

Agricultores y agricultoras:

6. Si una sequía, una inundación o un clima extremo amenaza sus cosechas, ¿qué podemos hacer ahora para proteger el suministro de alimentos?

Científicos y científicas:

7. ¿Qué están observando que la gente común necesita comprender — y qué advertencia estamos dejando de escuchar?

Estrellas de rock y del cine:

8. Millones de personas los escuchan. ¿Para qué van a utilizar esa voz cuando el mensaje podría realmente salvar vidas?

Líderes empresariales:

9. Cuando llegue la próxima emergencia climática, ¿su prioridad será proteger a las personas y las comunidades — o proteger las ganancias?

Todos nosotros:

10. Cuando la historia mire hacia atrás en este momento, ¿dirá que conocíamos las señales de advertencia y actuamos — o que las conocíamos y no hicimos nada?

Tina Winterlik — miércoles 7 de octubre de 2026

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once upon a time — come close, kids

 

once upon a time — come close, kids

Once upon a time...

Come close, kids.

There's a sad story I need to tell you.

It's a true story.

And I'm telling you because it could happen again — maybe sooner than we would like to think.

I don't want to frighten you.

I want you to know.

Because when we know what happened before, we have a better chance of preparing, protecting ourselves and the people we love, and protecting our whole world family as much as we possibly can.

So get yourself a cup of tea.

Grab a cookie.

And maybe a tissue.

Because this one is a little sad.

Then we'll talk about what we can do.

Once upon a time, in the 1870s...

There was a world without satellites.

No weather apps.

No phones buzzing with emergency alerts.

No computers watching the oceans.

People had to look at the sky, the rivers, the crops and the animals — and try to understand what the changing world was telling them.

And then something extraordinary happened.

The oceans changed.

The atmosphere changed.

The weather changed.

And in 1877–78, an extraordinarily powerful El Niño became part of a much larger climate story.

What followed was one of the most devastating climate-related food crises in modern history.

People didn't just experience bad weather.

They experienced hunger.

And millions of people lost their lives.

Now come a little closer, because here's where this old story becomes important to us...

It didn't stay on the other side of the world.

The climate doesn't respect borders.

Drought in one place can affect food somewhere else.

Floods can destroy farms.

Failed harvests can send food prices soaring.

And when people can no longer survive where they are, they move.

They look for somewhere safe.

Somewhere with water.

Somewhere with food.

Somewhere with people willing to help.

And that brings our old story home...

To **Victoria.

To Seattle.

To the Fraser Valley.

To the place that would soon become Vancouver.

And to Ottawa.**

Because while Vancouver wasn't yet a city, the Fraser River was already showing people what it could do.

In 1879, after the terrible years that had come before, the Fraser rose dramatically again.

The Sumas area flooded.

Farmland was damaged.

A bridge was swept away.

People watched water take pieces of their livelihoods away.

Imagine standing there without a weather radar.

Without a phone.

Without an emergency notification.

Just watching the river rise.

And wondering:

How high is it going to go?

That's the part of the story I want us to remember.

Not because I think history is going to repeat itself exactly.

It won't.

But because nature has a memory longer than ours.

And today we're watching another very strong El Niño develop.

So this time, perhaps we can do something the people of the 1870s couldn't.

We can look backward.

We can look around.

And we can prepare.

Not with panic.

With love.

For ourselves.

For our neighbours.

For farmers.

For children.

For elders.

For people who have nowhere safe to go.

For people on the other side of the world.

For our whole world family.

Because that's what this story is really about.

Not fear.

Preparation.

And maybe, if we're smart enough...

the next generation won't have to tell this story as a tragedy.

Maybe they'll tell it as the story of the time humanity saw the warning signs...

and actually listened.

Reflective Questions

Teachers:

What are you teaching the next generation about surviving and caring for a changing world — beyond the textbook?

Students:

2. What can you learn and do now so you're not helpless when your community faces a crisis?

Politicians:

3. If you know climate disruption can threaten food, housing and safety, what are you actually doing to prepare your community — and where is the plan?

Nurses:

4. When the next emergency overwhelms the healthcare system, who will care for the people who have nowhere else to turn — and are you prepared?

Doctors:

5. Are you treating climate-related illness and disaster as something that is already affecting human health, or are we still waiting for the crisis to become impossible to ignore?

Farmers:

6. If drought, flooding or extreme weather threatens your harvest, what can we do now to protect the food supply?

Scientists:

7. What are you seeing that ordinary people need to understand — and what warning are we failing to hear?

Rockstars & movie stars:

8. You have millions of people listening to you. What are you going to use that voice for when the message could actually save lives?

Business leaders:

9. When the next climate emergency comes, will your priority be protecting people and communities — or protecting profits?

All of us:

10. When history looks back at this moment, will it say we knew the warning signs and acted — or that we knew and did nothing?

Don’t give up on the Greens

 Don’t give up on the Greens.

If you’re young and thinking, “What’s the point? The Greens can’t win,” remember what happened in 2017.

The Greens won only 3 seats, but the election produced a minority government. The NDP had 41 seats and the Liberals had 43. The Greens held the balance of power and reached a Confidence and Supply Agreement with John Horgan’s NDP government.

That meant the Greens didn’t have to win the election to have influence. They had seats — and those seats gave them leverage.

It happened before. It can happen again.

So don’t look at the numbers and decide your vote doesn't matter. Every seat matters. Every riding matters.

You don't have to give up hope just because your party isn't the biggest one.

🌱 Democracy isn't only about who wins the most votes. Sometimes it's about who holds the balance of power.

#BCPolitics #BCGreens #GreenParty #Democracy #YouthVote #DontGiveUp #VoteBC

🌱 10 questions for the kids before they decide their vote

1. What kind of B.C. do you want to inherit — and what are we building right now?

2. If a pipeline, LNG project or other major development creates jobs today, who pays the environmental and social costs later?

3. When governments promise that a project will be “good for the economy,” what exactly are they counting — and what are they leaving out?

4. Should governments be making long-term decisions about forests, water, energy and climate based on one election cycle, or several generations?

5. What happens when a government makes a promise and then doesn't follow through?

6. Do young people have to accept decisions made today simply because they're told those decisions are “inevitable”?

7. What would you rather see government invest in: housing, healthcare, transit and education — or more fossil-fuel infrastructure? And can we realistically afford both?

8. If no party wins a majority, could smaller parties hold the balance of power and demand action on the issues that matter to you?

9. Did you know that this actually happened in B.C. in 2017, when three Green MLAs helped keep an NDP minority government in power through a confidence-and-supply agreement?

10. And finally: if you don't participate, who gets to make these decisions for you?

You don't have to believe everything a party tells you.

Ask questions. Read the platforms. Look at the record. Then vote. 🌱

The Kelvin Wave

 The Kelvin Wave: When a Few Inches of Ocean Water Matter

There's another weather term making headlines this fall: Kelvin wave.

If you've been following the latest discussions about El Niño and the unusual warmth of the Pacific Ocean, you've probably seen the term popping up in social media feeds and weather reports.

But what exactly is a Kelvin wave, and should those of us living in the Pacific Northwest be concerned?

First, let's clear something up. A Kelvin wave isn't a giant wall of water racing toward the shore. It isn't a tsunami, nor is it something we're going to see rolling in while walking along the beach.

It's a large movement of warm ocean water, often associated with El Niño. As this warm water travels along the coast, it can temporarily raise sea levels by several inches.

That might not sound like much. Six inches, after all, is hardly a tidal wave.

But context matters.

Imagine those extra inches arriving during an unusually high tide, a king tide or a powerful Pacific storm. Add strong winds, elevated water levels and pounding waves, and suddenly those few inches can make a significant difference to low-lying coastal areas.

And that's where things get interesting for the Pacific Northwest.

Here in British Columbia, we're surrounded by water. Vancouver's relationship with the ocean is part of our geography, our history and our everyday landscape. We enjoy our beaches, waterfront parks, marinas and ocean views. But living beside the water also means living with its power.

A Kelvin wave alone isn't something to panic about. However, it is another reminder that coastal flooding doesn't happen in isolation. Several natural forces can combine to create conditions that are more damaging than any one of them would be on its own.

There's also the marine environment to consider. Warmer ocean temperatures can affect marine ecosystems, shift the distribution of fish and put pressure on species that depend on particular water conditions.

The ocean is a complicated system. What happens thousands of kilometres away can eventually influence the waters along our own coastline.

And while we tend to focus on the immediate weather forecast, there's a much bigger conversation taking place about rising sea levels, climate change and the long-term vulnerability of coastal communities.

It's easy to dismiss a few inches of water. It's considerably harder to dismiss the consequences when those inches are enough to flood a road, damage a waterfront property or disrupt a community.

I think that's the part worth paying attention to.

We don't need dramatic headlines predicting disaster every time a new meteorological term appears. We do need to understand what is happening around us, take environmental changes seriously and recognize the importance of preparing vulnerable communities.

The Kelvin wave is not a reason to run for the hills.

But it is another reason to pay attention to the ocean.

Because sometimes the biggest changes don't arrive with a dramatic crash. Sometimes they happen slowly, quietly, and almost unnoticed, until we realize just how much has changed.

And perhaps that's a lesson worth remembering far beyond the Pacific shoreline.

the little glass paradise

 the little glass paradise

I'm sitting outside a coffee shop in Vancouver on October 4, watching people.

And wow.

Vancouver has changed.

Maybe COVID changed it. Maybe I just haven't sat in one place and really watched the city like this for a long time. But yesterday and today, I've been noticing things I might normally just walk past.

Families with little kids riding electric bikes. People from all over the world. People who seem to have good jobs and money. Expensive bicycles. Expensive cars. Older people with really nice walkers.

Everyone moving through this strange, shiny version of Vancouver.

I'm sitting here in a neighbourhood of towers.

There are beautiful little rosemary and lavender bushes. A few trees. The sun is lovely, and when you're sitting directly in it, it's actually quite warm.

But step into the shade and it's chilly.

And I keep looking around.

Cobblestone. Pavement. Glass. Concrete. Towers.

Not much green.

No green walls that I can see. No green roofs. Not much soil. Not much canopy.

It is a little glass-and-concrete paradise that somebody has carefully designed.

And it really is nice.

That's the strange part.

I'm not sitting here complaining about how ugly it is. It's beautiful in its own way. People are enjoying themselves. Children are laughing. People are drinking coffee. Bikes are everywhere. The landscaping is neat and intentional.

But I'm wondering about the future.

Because summer must be very different here.

What happens when the sun beats down on all this pavement and glass for days?

What happens when the heat doesn't go away at night?

What happens when we get another summer of wildfire smoke?

What happens when extreme rain arrives and there isn't much soil or green space to absorb it?

And what happens when the big storms get bigger?

We keep building upward.

Glass towers. More towers. More pavement. More people packed into smaller spaces.

And I understand why. Vancouver needs housing. People need places to live. We can't pretend cities are never going to grow.

But are we building cities for the Vancouver we used to have, or for the Vancouver we're going to have?

Because those may be two very different cities.

I keep thinking about the little things that actually make a city resilient.

Trees.

Shade.

Soil.

Gardens.

Green roofs.

Rain gardens.

Places where water can actually soak into the ground.

Places where people can sit without baking on concrete.

Places where birds, insects and other little creatures can still exist.

Green isn't just decoration.

Green is infrastructure.

And then there's the human side of it.

Sitting here watching all these people, I can't help noticing how different everyone's lives must be.

Somebody has the expensive electric bike.

Somebody has the expensive car.

Somebody is carrying a designer coffee cup.

Somebody is pushing a walker.

Somebody is raising children.

Somebody is working upstairs in one of these towers.

And somewhere else in Vancouver, someone is trying to figure out where they're going to sleep tonight.

That's Vancouver too.

I have spent enough time outside in this city to know that climate change isn't an abstract concept.

You feel it.

You feel the heat.

You feel the smoke.

You feel the rain.

You feel the cold when you don't have a door to close behind you.

So I'm sitting here in the sunshine, enjoying this little urban paradise while I can.

And I'm wondering:

How will this place feel in twenty years?

Will these towers still feel like little glass paradises?

Or will we look back and realize that we forgot something incredibly important when we built them?

Nature.

Not as an ornament.

As part of the city itself.

Maybe the future Vancouver needs to be more than taller.

Maybe it needs to be greener.

And maybe the real measure of a successful city isn't how expensive its buildings, cars and bicycles are.

Maybe it's whether people — and the living world around them — can actually thrive there.