Missing the Mark

How ideology upended this year's housing conference

I go to the Housing Central Conference each year looking to be encouraged and equipped. I need a boost for the hard work I do and some tips and tricks to do it better. Housing the homeless and near-homeless is not easy work, and in years past, I’ve felt the conference was worth its high admission price. I don’t think I feel that way anymore.

This year, instead of being lifted up, I was knocked down by an ideological sledgehammer. I was made to feel guilty; it was clear I didn’t belong. I was an awful person, from a morally bankrupt heritage — forever an outsider, one whose voice is unworthy and unwelcome. What’s my crime?

It was obvious that my skin colour was a problem.

The conference wasn’t really about housing. Instead, there were five clear themes:

1. Decolonize everything

2. Take back the land

3. White people need to shut up

4. Ignore evidence that disagrees with the popular narrative

5. Rage against the white machine.

So, how exactly does this help me be a better building manager?

I recognize that these themes are not emerging out of thin air; I’m a historian. I get heart palpitations when I see a good history book. I’m that kind of nerd. So I am not blind to the hurts European imperialism caused. I am 100% in favour of making sure we give no quarter to racism.

I’ve backed up my anti-racism convictions as a building administrator. One tenant of mine hated Asians. He was notoriously rude to so many of our home support workers, who are predominantly Filipino. Did I get him a white worker, and just keep him away from the Filipinos? No — no way! I went after him. This kind of hate will have repercussions for tenancy. I have a tenant who came to my office not too long ago. He flopped himself down in the chair and bellowed out his hate, “I hate those fucking Indians!” Turns out he was Metis, but to him, that was a lot better than those “full-blooded losers.” I closed my office door, and for the next half hour, we had a long chat. If he wants to continue to live in the building I manage, he will need to change his perspective. My staff consists of four black people, one Indigenous person, three white people, and one East Indian, but I hired them all, not because of the diversity of skin colour; I hired them because I believed in their ability to do the work. Their ability was more important than their skin colour, and so it should be.

Has the good work of confronting racism morphed into something else? If history has taught me anything, it’s that humans are very good at overcompensation. We find ourselves in a ditch on one side of the road, and instead of cautiously climbing out, we leap, clear over the road and into the ditch on the other side.

Are the five themes that leaked out at this year’s housing conference another ditch that we need to get out of? Let me know in the comments below

• Decolonize Everything.

One of the keynote speakers rambled on about some books she had written, while an interviewer tried to pull out interesting talking points to keep the audience’s attention. About halfway through the conversation, the speaker, with smug certainty, told us, “It’s about time, we decolonize wellness.” This comment came in the greater context of complete decolonization. I understand “decolonization” and “Indigenization.” The dominant Western European culture belittled, wrecked and ran roughshod over pre-existing cultures, and it’s important for all cultures to find their footing and thrive in our country. This was one of the great mistakes of residential schools. So I get it; it’s just that the language and attitude of the conversation were without deference and mutual respect. It was a tear-it-down-and-replace-it-with-another mentality. We already did that in our country, and it didn’t work.

• Take back the land

I understand land acknowledgements, but they seem to be getting more chippy and aggressive these days, and I don’t understand what the endgame is. Is this going to go on forever? I want to be a proud Canadian, but every time there is a speech, I’m reminded that I shouldn’t be here. How is that healthy? I felt really bad for the Rwandan dude and his Vancouver counterpart. They held a breakout session to share the good work they’ve done with Black African immigrants, but an Indigenous audience member hijacked it. “You talk about land trust and the challenges you have. But you Africans have only been in Canada for about 150 years; we have been here for time immemorial. This is our land, and we haven’t even been able to get it back yet.”

The Indigenous woman’s point was clear — Hogan’s Alley, and other “claims” on land by Africans, were insulting to her. Instead of the inspiring story I was hoping for, I witnessed an awkward spat. Who should get the land, black people or Indigenous people? Race-based land fighting will tear our country apart.

• White people need to shut up

Another keynote speaker didn’t waste any time letting white people know that they don’t belong in the conversation about race. “One of the qualities of being a person of privilege is that you can’t see your privilege.” She said, it’s a “necessary blind spot”, so privileged people (which is code for white skinned people of European descent) are excluded from any conversation. How encouraging is it for me to be told from the stage that because of the colour of my skin, I am a “colonizer” and an “oppressor” but since I am a “privileged” person, I couldn’t possibly understand the plight of those different than me, and so must never speak. That’s a trap no man can get out of, and why are we even talking about it at the housing conference? This sort of rhetoric doesn’t help me be a better building administrator or, for that matter, a better Canadian. I understand that people have different experiences, but freezing out a whole people group heals and helps no one. Ironically, the one keynote speaker who was worthwhile had a single message for us all — Disagreeing well is the catalyst for innovation. I think we should listen to his advice.

• Ignore evidence that disagrees with the narrative

One of the breakout sessions was the first reveal of a survey of Vancouver’s poorest housing. SROs (Single Resident Occupancy): The last stop before homelessness. I was excited to learn all I could, but in short order, it became clear that something else was afoot. I was told that “legacies of colonialism” had led to these often deplorable living conditions, that 31% of SROs are inhabited by Indigenous people, who only make up 2.9% of Vancouver’s population; this disproportionate amount was driven home, and it was crystal clear, white people are to blame for it. But then I noticed a tiny footnote, barely visible at the bottom of the PowerPoint and in the book, indicating that 70% of SRO occupants are white. The point was overlooked and left unmentioned. I followed up with a clarifying question.

“Has there been any reflection on why 70% of the worst housing in Vancouver is filled by white people, and how does the legacy of colonialism that you mentioned play into this statistic?”

“Yeah, that’s an interesting question, that we won’t be able to get into.”

In subsequent conversations with the presenter, I learned that the 31% figure is not an across-the-board number. It’s 31% of the remaining 30% that are non-white. I also learned that the racial tallying system is by no means scientific. I walked away from this class wondering whether we were trying to figure out what is actually going on or how to drop stats to push an agenda.

• Rage against the white machine.

On the final day, after a lovely breakfast, the small glimmer of hope that this conference could be salvaged was forever snuffed out.

I still cannot wrap my mind around why they brought in this angry, bitter, vengeful speaker. The man needs therapy, not a microphone. I feel bad for him and his parents.

He is a black man (well, half black) who was adopted by white parents. As an adult, he annulled his adoption and disowned his parents, not because they abused him; he hates them because being raised by white people “exiled him to whiteness.” Nothing could be worse than this. He claims that you are not allowed to be a black man in B.C. You have to hide it, or “they” will get you. You have to pretend to be white. With passion and flourish, he unpacks a very narrow interpretation of B.C. history. He speaks of 200-year-old racial perspectives as if they still exist, unchanged in the present day. His rage is palpable; If he doesn’t fight for his blackness, he will be pushed to the margins, he will lose his home, he will lose his life. He finishes his blowtorch sermon in dramatic fashion, sharing a couple of questionable anecdotes about poor treatment that he and a few of his black friends received at a local Vancouver bar. As he stomps off the stage, he receives a standing ovation.

Of course, this man’s lived experience is valid, but why would we give an ovation to a speech which felt rooted in hateful resentment? I felt that I wouldn’t want to meet this guy in a back alley with my skin showing.

In principle, I agree with the speaker, any sort of racism has got to go. Could his adoptive parents have done more to put him in touch with his ethnic heritage? Yes, especially if he wanted it. But is hating the people who raised him with unbridled passion because they happened to be white a good idea? No. Should we hold him up as a role model for how to process delicate ethnic and racial issues? Absolutely not.

I was talking with a few of the attendees after the speech concluded

“What did you think of it?” I said to one guy.

He responded, “Let’s just cut to the chase and say what’s being said at this conference: we hate white people.”

I’m pretty sure this is not the desired outcome for conference organizers.

When it comes to housing, we want to bring people together, we need collaboration and teamwork, we want more unity than division, it’s the only way we are going to really help the people in our sector that desperately need the work we do. The conference didn’t serve the good cause for which it was created. We jumped over the road and into the ditch on the other side.