When I was a kid, my mom and I played Punch Buggy. The rules were simple. Whoever spotted a Volkswagen Beetle first got to call it out. “Punch Buggy!” Before long, it seemed like Beetles were everywhere. Of course they …
When people think about homelessness, this is often the image that comes to mind. A bench. A shopping cart. Everything someone owns piled together. It’s a real image. It’s also an incomplete one. My experience doesn’t look like this. Tonight …
People tell you to keep looking. They mean well. They imagine looking for housing means scrolling through listings over a morning coffee, sending a few messages, arranging a viewing, signing a lease, and moving in. That isn’t what it looks …
There are sentences you’re not supposed to say out loud. “I like taking my shits here.” Read that again. It’s crude. It isn’t polished. It isn’t the sort of sentence you’d expect to open a piece of journalism. It’s also …
The shower room has a motion sensor light switch. Outside. If you stop moving long enough to wash your hair, dry off, get dressed, or simply sit and organize your belongings, eventually the lights go out. Then you have two …
Someone invited me for fish and chips this morning. I wanted to go. The people inviting me weren’t offering charity. They know me. They knew me before I became homeless. They know my work, my photography, my radio background, my …
Three men waited for the bus at the Queensway Transit Exchange. I thought back to Charles. Earlier that evening… Yum Yum Tree. Capri Centre Mall. A large combo. Curry rice noodles. Thin. Fragile. With a sweet bite. Chop suey. Barbecue …
This morning I called the BC Housing Registry. The call lasted 13 minutes. I was told my file was active. My information was updated. My mobility needs were reviewed. We discussed walkers, wheelchairs, stairs, bathtubs, income assistance, shelters, and the …
Most people know the headline. Some remember the news stories. Some remember the public debate. Some remember the arguments about housing, healthcare, responsibility, and policy. Some remember the photographs from the hospital. Some remember the letters. I remember Cory. Not …
Dispatches are allowed to be messy because life is messy. A storm rolled through Kelowna this afternoon. Rain. Ice pellets. Wind. The kind of weather that sends people looking for cover wherever they can find it. I shot weather footage …
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