Am I an Elite Gentrifier?
I recently enjoyed the fortune of attending Cycle 1 of the Ontario Federation of Indigenous Friendship Centre’s (OFIFC) Indigenous Cultural Competency Training program, during which I learned a great deal about relationships and building communities. The main principle seemed intuitive — you cannot make community-building progress without first developing genuine interpersonal relationships. This process often takes more time than a traditional policy and political cycle is willing to afford, however it is necessary for positive progress. Despite my intuition saying, “Yes, this makes sense,” I realized during further reflection that I rarely take time to understand how (or if) I have developed relationships with the people around me.
This week, Munk + Evergreen is focusing on understanding and consulting with community. We are reading articles that describe good and bad public consultation techniques and how policymakers should try to better understand the needs, desires, and perspectives of the community they are affecting. During my reading, I was uncomfortable to discover two things that could affect my ability to plan and conduct meaningful public consultation.
- I might not be the kind, understanding policymaker I want to be.
Jarrett Walker’s blog on “Elite Projection” forced me to realize that my identity is not just my own, but is relative according to my socioeconomic status and the relationships I have built with those around me. While Walker acknowledges that “elites” are a minority, the definition of an elite may be more inclusive — despite my modest bank account, I could still be classified as an elite due to my education and other privileges I hold, such as being white or a Canadian citizen by birth.
This concept forced me to reflect on the fact that unless I make a genuine effort to build a strong rapport with the people I am consulting, I could appear to be (and unfortunately act like) an ivory tower elite who is disconnected from any public-focused initiative that affects people from walks of life different from my own. I never pictured myself as an elite, but this is a power dynamic that I and other policy professionals must be aware of in order to understand how we can improve relationships and the policy process.
2. I hold biases that could prevent me from understanding a community’s perspective.
Mariana Valverde described how low-income individuals in Leslieville were upset that the park they once frequented for smoking became a dog park. My knee jerk reaction was a void of sympathy — dogs are cute, smoking is not, right? Then Walker’s lessons about elite projection slapped me — I need to check my privilege, I need to check my perspective.
Instead of trying to understand how these people went about their lives and why they sought out particular comforts, I inserted my own biases of what is a “preferable” use of public space. To my chagrin, I had instinctually “sided” with gentrification. Without much further introspection, I quickly realized how so many policy professionals appear uncaring and disconnected in final reports following a consultation process.
Understanding community needs and creating a genuine, inclusive consultation experience is related not only to processes and communication techniques, but also to human connection and relationships. The perspectives of relationships and power dynamics can be the difference between positive, relationship-building progress and stagnation. I will need to continuously remind myself of these lessons so that I can check my privileges at the door before engaging in any community-focused initiative.
