Sarah Mann
The Hamilton Spectator

(Jan 14, 2010)

Few Hamiltonians are unfamiliar with phrases such as "urban decay" or "cleaning up the streets."

Many of us are rightfully concerned about the rights of people living in poverty, sex workers and people experiencing homelessness in the wake of "cleanup" efforts.

On one side of the debate, city councillors are demanding cleaner streets and a more attractive, marketable and lucrative Hamilton. On the other side are humanitarians, activists and social service providers, arguing for universal access, human rights and basic survival for the city's most vulnerable residents.

The problem with the debate isn't the illegitimacy of the cause, but the framing of the "solution" to urban dissonance as a balance between public interest and the needs of those who are threatened with displacement.

This framing is a judgment call -- a dangerous one -- about who constitutes "the public." What we're really considering is not what's best for the public, but who the public is, whose interests should be represented politically, and who isn't expected to have a voice.

I would call a city councillor, who only speaks to the interests of the constituents he likes, a councillor who is only doing half the job.

He's been elected to represent a ward -- and everyone in it -- to city council, not to make judgments about who does or doesn't constitute a citizen.

But I've yet to hear anyone call Bob Bratina out for failing to represent the "squatters" or "winos and bums" in Gore Park. Bernie Morelli's support for the Landsdale Area Neighbourhood Association's upcoming Roundtable on Prostitution, which has been designed to address prostitution without even hearing from sex workers, has come at the expense of representation for sex workers (who live and work in the Landsdale neighbourhood), and the many Landsdale residents who oppose the neighbourhood association's actions.

We might expect Bratina's and Morelli's policy decisions not to harm them, or even not to displace them, but we never expected city council to represent these troublemakers.

They were excluded from "the public" before the debate even began.

While we expect city councillors to represent the interests of homeowners, business owners, "working families," and tourists, we give them a pass when it comes to advocating for the right of people with mental illnesses to visibly exist, the right of people living in poverty to have homes, and the right of sex workers to do their jobs safely.

There is a clear distinction between property and consumption-based interests, which are considered legitimate subjects of political representation, and the things we consider superfluous to the public interest: "personal," "welfare," and "minority" issues that are better suited to social service and activist spheres.

Access to public space is divided between "public" and "other" along the same class lines as political representation. For example, Hamilton is considering anti-loitering bylaws that would limit who can occupy public space, and for what reasons. If passed, presumably a picnic or ceremony in Gore Park wouldn't face interference from teenagers who swear.

Folks waiting for the bus wouldn't be bothered by people who live at or near their bus stops. And no one would ever feed the damned pigeons.

The accepted aesthetic of "clean streets" speaks to a class-based division of interest. The impression of cleanliness and legitimacy might make for guilt-free picnicking, but the distinction between "using the park" and "loitering in it" looks an awful lot like a distinction between "buying something" and "taking up space." Nobody is expected to ask the people who live or work on the streets, who are arguably more invested than anyone in the use of public space, what they want to see "cleaned up."

The ban on social services in the downtown core that Bratina threatens has also been framed as an access issue.

But the debate begs a more fundamental question: why are some services considered more legitimate than others?

If junkies, bums, perverts and welfare users were considered members of the public, mightn't the bingo hall, the porn theatre, the shelters and the methadone clinic -- all thriving downtown businesses -- be considered legitimately in service of the public interest? And if they were serving our public interest, why would we want to remove them?

A recent article in The Spectator also raised concerns over the police's power to stop "antisocial" behaviour.

Such comments may be disguised as neutral concern for public interest, but membership in the public body is strictly limited. People who look threatening, or whose behaviour offends "public" morals are the targets of anti-loitering and similar "clean-up" bylaws.

This means people who don't have the money it takes to look "clean," people with psychiatric disabilities, youth, people whose sexualities are "controversial," such as queer and trans folks and sex workers, racialized people and Aboriginal people -- people who are traditionally poorer, more visible, less likely to be consumers, who have fewer places to go and who are more likely to be called offensive.

So we're talking about making people into criminals based on income, ability, sexuality, gender and race.

We're talking about removing them from wherever they call home and denying them access to necessary services.

But we're also talking about ownership and representation: the right to exist and to be acknowledged as a member of our society -- the right to be a resident, citizen, constituent, and person. A stakeholder.

Displacing and criminalizing some people and removing them from our understanding of "the public" makes everyone's citizenship dependent on a willingness and ability to participate in a property and consumption-driven economy.

Maybe most of us are still represented by such a system, but thousands of Hamiltonians have been and will continue to be injured by the drive for clean streets, and those of us who never lose our homes or our freedoms aren't immune either: it dehumanizes us all.

Sarah Mann is an antipoverty advocate and community educator living and working in downtown Hamilton.