Musings from Norah

by Norah Kennedy, Executive Director, Family Transition Place (FTP)

A young woman sitting on the curb in front of my office the other night wished me “an amazing evening” as I left work for the day. I smiled, touched by her greeting, and wished her the same. She laughed. It was a deep, guttural, soul destroying laugh filled with a hopelessness so deep it broke my heart.

Two other women discharged—separately—from the shelter recently—to live in tents. What are their choices? On Ontario Works, the $735 a month allowance doesn’t even cover half the cost of a one-bedroom apartment in our community, let alone leave enough for food.

One of our youth educators told me about a student in one of their classes who uses two different names—one at home and another at school—because they don’t feel they can be who they want to be with their family.

Just the other day, the CEO of another organization made a comment that “everyone is angry and frightened.” If this is true, how then do you create a healthy, safe community for anyone?

If you’ve been feeling insecure and unsettled lately, you’re not alone.

“From rising inequality and declining mental health to climate change disasters and the threat of authoritarianism, insecurity has become a “defining feature of our time,” says this year’s CBC Massey lecturer, Astra Taylor1

We often think of insecurity as tied to issues that face the most vulnerable of us: job insecurity, food insecurity, housing insecurity. Those of us fortunate enough to have “secure” jobs, a “stable” home and enough food to eat consider ourselves “secure,” as though that is a state of permanence and constancy.

However, we know that these very issues are being faced by many who, as recently as a year or two ago, would have considered themselves “secure.” Our local food bank reports a significant increase in service users who— on the surface—appear to be “middle class,” but are now struggling financially to manage basic needs. It isn’t just the poor or destitute who can’t afford homes anymore—ask anyone in the current generation of young adults if they expect to own their own home. (Spoiler alert: they don’t.)

There is a broader feeling of anxiety and insecurity infecting our entire society.

When feelings of insecurity or anxiety manifest, we are often advised to turn to stress reduction and self-care techniques to help cope. Trust me, I love a good massage—and a few deep breaths do help get me through some stressful moments—but this level of existential anxiety goes far beyond a bubble bath and deep breathing. Taylor says, “We all need a bit of self-care, but you can’t meditate your way or exfoliate your way out of this crisis.” (Taylor, 2023) ing us, but this is a magazine about hope, so I will forgo that, for the moment. at which there is a collective realization that our systems are seriously flawed. They were established to work independently from each other, although in reality, they are inextricably entwined.

Because, in the face of it all, I do believe there is hope. I believe there is hope for the young woman who can’t imagine what an “amazing evening” could possibly look like. I believe there is hope for the MANY people who are sleeping in tents, or on the street, or in shelters. I believe there is hope for the youth who want to live to be their true selves but are too afraid.

Hope comes from the point at which there is a collective realization that our systems are seriously flawed. They were established to work independently from each other, although in reality, they are inextricably entwined. Climate change and care for our planet is not an issue that is independent of everything else. It is the foundation of life on this planet. Health cannot be separated from education and education only succeeds when people are housed and fed, healthy and safe. People will only be safe when there is equity between genders, cultures and identities. Government is only successful when it really listens to the people it represents and truly understands their experiences.

From this realization comes the ability to see the human condition as a whole, not as something to be splintered into funding silos or highly sectored expertise. “This is absolutely a structural, social and political phenomenon. And that means that we can only actually address it through collective structural solutions.” (Taylor, 2023)

(I love the line: “…you can’t exfoliate yourself out of this crisis.”! I wish I could shed my stress with a good loofa!)

The need for “collective structural solutions” (Taylor, 2023) is intense. Our systems were created to be copies of systems designed centuries ago on other continents by those who had no other frame of reference than colonialism, white supremacy and patriarchy. Those systems stand intact today, although we know they are not serving us well.

Well, let me qualify that: they are serving a few of us very well, and the majority not well at all.

I could dive into each system (health, social services, education, government, etc.) and explore where and how each is fail-

Our human condition is intersectional at its essence. We are the sum of our parts.

When we see across systems—to integrate, understand and dismantle—there is hope of creating real community. Real community means that we take care of each other, in all our human messiness, so that not one person is left out.

~ Norah

1 Manasan, A. (2023, July 11). Forget self-care. To feel better in this world, we need collective action, says Massey lecturer Astra Taylor. CBC. https://www.cbc.ca/radio/ideas/cbc-massey-lectures2023-astra-taylor-1.6886197