May 9, 2024 | Socialist Action
Many of the scenes I see when operating with the Toronto Transit Commission around the city show how many people are living on the edge of destitution or crisis. People wait outside food banks every day in the rain, cold, or extreme heat in lines that stretch for blocks. On any full route in the city, I see tents in parks and ravines, people asking for change at intersections, and sleeping bags in doorways, at bank entrances, or above sidewalk vents or sewers blasting hot air. I have a vivid memory of a man standing alone in a downpour at 4 am tying off his arm to take what I assumed was heroin—hard drug use is widespread.
TTC vehicles and stations are an unwelcoming refuge for some. People sleep and sometimes live in the system year-round. The TTC added warming buses at some stations this past winter to offer the most basic survival conditions to those with nowhere safe to go. Although the TTC sometimes tolerates the unhoused, this tolerance is unstable: security guards routinely sweep stations and vehicles, and when special constables and emergency services respond to calls, they often harass marginalized individuals and those in crisis when they should be helping. The government-approved extortionist monopoly “market” is leading to an unfortunate scenario for public transit and the city.
Many have expressed distrust of both the safety and the reliability of taking transit. I love public transit, and it is beautiful to see people try to get along and help each other get through their day. But there is also much that is off-putting: every day, the TTC sees threats, fights, assaults, thefts, drug use, and people yelling in distress, acting belligerent, or requiring medical attention. For the most part, people seem to want the best for each other, but there are still people suffering from such severe circumstances that it is nearly impossible for an individual to wholeheartedly help beyond basic gestures, recognition, and respect. All of this poses direct risk to passengers, workers, and property and can lead to service delays occurring at any time of the day.
During my training, instructors would point shelters out to me. People drag their entire lives around in suitcases or grocery carts, and many have dogs they care for as best they can. Being under-housed can mean a loneliness and longing that I doubt I can fathom. Trying to hold on to a semblance of living can prevent them from accessing shelters that are already overcrowded and under-staffed and provide no dignity and little safety.
Workers and the public generally do their best to keep the system running, resolving health and safety concerns that don’t pose immediate danger. Unfortunately, those suffering as a result are sometimes left alone in it. I’ve seen people sit balled up in the middle of the tracks, seemingly waiting to be hit. I’ve talked to several operators involved in contacts that resulted in death, some from people trying to kill or injure themselves. For some operators, this has affected their lives to the point of ruin—therapy has helped some, and many are still dealing with it. People living rough are experiencing trauma every day and trying to survive or exist and sometimes trying to be seen or heard. Unfortunately, commuters and workers can also become victims to it.
Just like the province’s healthcare, housing, and food security systems, the transit system is also being made to fail through relentless capitalist attacks on our community, our purchasing power, and our environments. Funding goes to management, police, security guards, and the private sector first. The province stepped in to make sure police got everything they asked for from the Toronto budget, including a multi-million-dollar increase to repress demonstrations, including those against said attacks on the community.
Many people living on the streets have intellectual disabilities. When people with disabilities live precarious positions, they can be hard-pressed not to end up on the street, riding the system, or taking their chances in a shelter if they lose their support. When it comes to addiction and mental and physical health, many people in this city need help beyond the faulty band-aids and deteriorating supports currently provided.
Although we live in an extremely wealthy city and province, the contrast between rich and poor is stark. Nightclub-goers, luxury condos and mansions, high-rise bank complexes and luxury car dealerships, condos going up every day throughout the city, houses being sold industrially, prestigious universities expanding, billionaires renaming hospitals after themselves, the stock exchange, investment firms, the banks’ cash advance fronts, major industrial headquarters—these are only what we can see, and the contradiction is getting worse.
The social and material problems created by poverty policies do not need to exist. We have housing, food, and work for people to do to make this city vibrant and healthy and truly a place for everyone.
Most people in Toronto want to see the city and its transit system thrive—we depend on it. We need the political will to go after the cause of the symptoms, and this will only come from workers’ and communities’ organizing pressure. There is a feeling in the air that many have had enough and that we can’t continue the way we’re going. Some call for more repression, more cruelty, but that is no real answer. Though not every act of violence is an act of desperation or a cry for help, most of these acts are rooted in living conditions and circumstances where people are being pushed past the margins. There are supports, but they are not comprehensive, widely available, or long-term, and they seldom have a meaningful impact.
I often say the task is daunting, but accepting this reality is to accept a miserable farce of legalized extortion and a culture of obedience in the face of crimes against the community. We all have something at stake—you don’t need to drive across the city every day to see it. We shouldn’t tolerate the plunder of the public for the hoarding and extravagance of the private. As workers, community members, and victims in the city, we have the right to dignity and safety, the right to live, and the right to strive for what we believe in and what is in our interest. Around the city, most don’t have that right because the system that supposedly exists for us is in fact preying upon us.