Author: Peter Cantelon, Executive Director
Over the years, particularly when we approach municipal and provincial elections, the calls for dramatically increased spending on social infrastructure in Winnipeg get louder.
Honestly who can blame people? The evidence of need for a massively expanded inventory of safe, accessible, affordable housing is obvious. There are clear signs that we need more shelter beds; addictions care; safe injection sites; transitional housing and more throughout the city.
One fact that is often not talked about (loudly enough) is that a large number of people utilizing social infrastructure come from outside of Winnipeg. In fact, according to the Winnipeg Street Census 2022 more than 40 communities are represented amongst Winnipeg’s homeless population, most from Manitoba and a disproportionately large percentage are Indigenous – 68.2 percent according to the census.
“While cultural norms within Indigenous cultures include such supports as extended kin networks, widespread poverty and lack of adequate affordable housing mean that too often, families lack the resources to assist with the transition of family members from home communities to Winnipeg.” – Winnipeg Street Census 2022.
When it comes to Winnipeg’s social infrastructure needs, we have a sort of chicken and egg scenario – which came first, the social infrastructure or the need for social infrastructure? Of course, complex issues such as homelessness cannot be boiled down to such simplistic questions but you get the point – how many people utilizing the infrastructure have come to Winnipeg because they lacked the supports locally in their home communities?
Often people move “to the city” because of the allure of urban density and opportunity. But, the question remains, how many people are leaving the support network of family, friends and community, for Winnipeg simply because they lack the social infrastructure supports locally and feel they have no other option?
In the Pembina Valley communities of Morden, Winkler, and the surrounding villages, there is a population of about 40,000 people and zero transitional housing. For a youth aging out of care in the region who may require such assistance or a woman leaving a shelter, they must move to a city like Winnipeg for such support.
I have had numerous conversations with community support workers, politicians and others about the possibility of distributing social infrastructure throughout rural and northern Manitoba with varying levels of receptiveness. Community support workers readily agree that if the infrastructure necessary existed locally in outside communities many people would remain rather than come to Winnipeg. With the added support of familiarity, family and friends, people have a higher likelihood of overcoming barriers they may be struggling with as well.
Still, there is hesitancy to talk about the possibility of distributing social infrastructure outside of Winnipeg, particularly amongst local politicians, for fear it would mean reduced funding. But isn’t this the point? Do we, as non-profits, not exist to put ourselves out of business (or at least reduce the need)?
If greater funding of rural and northern infrastructure reduces the strain and need in Winnipeg and allows people the choice of remaining close to family, friends, and community, shouldn’t this at least be considered and pursued?
I think about this a lot because, while the vast majority of support we offer is within Winnipeg, Jubilee Fund has a provincial mandate. Our goal is to assist with poverty reduction throughout Manitoba, not only in Winnipeg.
It’s time for funding bodies to start seriously considering increasing (and in some instances starting) funding to social infrastructure in northern and rural Manitoba communities to allow people the dignity of choice – to remain in the communities the grew up in, close to family and friends, or to head to Winnipeg if they want.