OP-ED: Taxpayers fund squatters while families flee Toronto’s invaded parks

Sue-Ann Levy writes, "The squatters I encountered this week are not interested in friendships. I don’t feel the least bit sorry for them."

Source: Wikimedia Commons

At the corner of Dufferin and Bloor Sts in west Toronto, a series of tony new buildings on the site of the former Kent School and Bloor West Collegiate are nearing completion.

The project — called The Marlow — will contain 2,000 residential units, commercial space, a 30,000 square foot community hub, 56 affordable housing units, a private road and its own park.

The concept is intended to remake this intersection.

But just half a block south lies Dufferin Grove Park, which has been home to encampments on and off since 2020. The tent dwellers were evicted from the 5.3-hectare park in July of 2020 but returned in October of that year.

I was there to witness the mess.

It became the park with the largest encampment by the end of last year.

In February of this year council approved an “enhanced outreach model” which has the city spending money to provide health and social support visits daily to the encampment residents, along with security and extra garbage removal.

Under the feckless leadership of Mayor Olivia Chow, the ideology is to hug and stroke them (they call it building trust) even though the residents are squatting illegally in a public park meant for public and family use.

When the local councillor Alejandra Bravo, part of the Marxist caucus at City Hall, met with residents in early May, they were starting to lose their patience with the squatters who prevent free and easy use of the lovely park.

And rightly so.

When I attended the park on my e-bike this past Tuesday, it was as advertised.

There were about 20 odd tents scattered throughout along with a City of Toronto van housing two young community safety officers (from the looks of them, diversity hires.)

Although perfectly nice, I suspect they’d be easily bullied by the drug addicts I encountered.

There was also a security guard, who sat throughout the time I was there at the edge of the park playing with his iPhone.

Despite the beautiful — although hot — day, there were no children in the park’s playground or anywhere in the park, for that matter.

One community safety officer warned me that the “residents” would get upset if I took pictures.

I responded that it was “not my first rodeo” after thanking her.

Nevertheless she was right.

Two men — one on a bike and another on a scooter — started following me and trying to block my passage once they realized I was taking pictures of the tents, even though it was from a fair distance.

The one on the scooter, who had extremely dirty teeth and was drinking some kind of alcoholic beverage, threatened to come to my house and take pictures like I was doing of his home in the park.

I reminded him several times that it was a public park and I could do whatever I wished.

The two men could have been drug dealers but also appeared to be quite high.

Their threats did not bother me. I guessed, and rightly so, that two men would not want to leave their cozy park tents.

Another two women sitting at a picnic table also got quite agitated even though I had not tried to take pictures of them.

One young woman with blue hair called, or pretended to call, 911 alleging I was harassing them and that I was “trespassing” in the tents and stealing items.

I was nowhere near the tents when Blue Hair made the call.

I had to laugh at that one.

Her companion, dressed in a soiled top showing a bare midriff, insisted that she worked as a chef and was only staying in the park.

All of it was absurd but this is what it has come to in a city run by leftist loons who coddle the squatters. I also suspect they leave them out there to make a statement about the need for more cash for unaffordable housing.

Although many of the squatters I encountered seemed high, I could see where they’d be menacing to the average resident who dared get near them.

Foolish city officials and other social worker types have counselled us to get to know them.

In my days at the Toronto Sun, I often did.

But the squatters I encountered this week are not interested in friendships.

I don’t feel the least bit sorry for them.

They believe the park belongs to them and they have every right to spread their junk and sleeping paraphernalia wherever it lands—and to threaten lawful park-goers in their drug-addicted state.

Who can blame them when the city virtually hands them every reason to stay with their own security, port-a-potties, wellness checks from ineffectual city staff and free garbage pick-up.

All on the taxpayer's dime.