June 21, 2024

Hello, City

During the pandemic, when nobody knew what was what, we’d stopped riding transit, and took over the empty streets of downtown on our bicycles, taking the St. George/Beverly bike lanes down to Queen, and then down Peter toward the waterfront, a mostly breezy journey except for the hill above Front Street where we’d cross over the railway tracks and around the Sky Dome, and then we’d arrive at the big plaza, where people never were, and we were able to ride on the sidewalks because no one else was using them, and that was pretty fun, even though nothing else was. And because we’d never cycled downtown before, I didn’t properly realize that it wasn’t always like this, that Peter Street was usually bananas, that my kids wouldn’t ordinarily be able to ride on the sidewalks as they pedal furiously to get up the hill, that the Sky Dome wasn’t actually a no man’s land. In the summer of 2022, when my kids were out of town, my husband and I rode our bikes all the way out to Woodbine Beach and back again, and needed to stop for a break at the Sky Dome before we’d hauled our bikes up the hill and over the bridge, and a Blue Jays game had just ended. People were everywhere, in their caps and their jerseys, and there was so much joy, and it was the first time in literally years that I’d found myself in a crowded space and not felt threatened. Remember, this was 2022, just post “Freedom” convoy, their clown cars and pick-up trucks still parading through the city, mean-spirited with loud honks and screaming slogans. Our city did not endure the siege that Ottawa did, but I still carry stress and fear from that time (and I have some ideas about where you might stick your hockey-stick flagpole). But that afternoon in the plaza behind that Sky Dome, the vibe was good, and it felt great to be part of the city again.

And now, almost 2 years later, those empty streets seem almost impossible to fathom, I’m back to riding public transit with ease, and the public transit vibe has returned to something resembling normal too after a scary period of violent incidents. Twice in the past week, I’ve found myself aboard a subway train crowded with Blue Jays fans—people of all ages, races, genders—and it’s been the nicest thing, a reminder of how far we’ve come. And while Toronto certainly has its challenges—don’t try driving anywhere; and a decade and a half of terrible mayors hasn’t helped—it just feels so good to be here, for this to be home. Vibrant streets and busy restaurants and gorgeous parks and winding trails and BIKE LANES and verduous trees and museums and theatres and bookstores and farmer’s markets and beaches, and people, so many people, all of us complicit in this same city project, and—especially after a hard few years—I’m just so happy to be part of it.