A conversation with Mark Kuznicki

I remember the exact moment I fell in love with this city. I was about 12 years old, sitting in the back of my uncle’s taxicab. It was Diwali and he was driving us down Gerrard Street as we made our way to visit some family. There’s always been something magical about Diwali, holidays tend to have that affect on people I suppose, but this memory is particularly vivid of my childhood because as I rolled down the window to take a peak, I was mesmerized by the smell of incense, the light of divas, the deafening sound of Hindi music blaring from outdoor speakers, women in silky saris covered in mehndi and the sheer volume of my people - young and old – jubilantly relishing the moment in celebrating this joyous festival. It left me as a young girl absolutely in love; awestruck to say the least. So let’s get one thing straight, I’m just a gal from the ‘burbs with a deep affection for this big, beautiful and fantastically diverse city. I don’t have all the answers, much like many of the insightful provocateurs of this campaign dubbed ChangeCamp, but I do love this place. And thus this project, no matter how perfectly imperfect it may be, is mine too.

Upon the receipt of my last post, I was invited to have a caffeinated beverage with Mark Kuznicki – the mastermind behind changecamp. His first remark (no pun intended) was “your post was personal, very personal.” Duly noted. Throughout my undergraduate career in political science, I’d heard a great many times that

“the everyday is political, the personal is political.”

I didn’t really know what it meant then, and it’s arguably an ongoing internal conversation. But, as I’ve entered the “real world,” it has become increasingly clear to me and more relevant every single day. Everything about the past that helps define our present has got to do with politics. The leaders that were in power at the right time, doing the right thing or at the wrong time, doing the wrong thing (or any combination of that sort) is significant. From the moment we wake up in the morning to the second we fall asleep, we make choices that dictates our politics, whether we realize it or not. From the television shows we watch, to the newspapers we read, the stores we shop at and the mode of transportation we use, everything hinges on the politics of our times. And so then, it’s no surprise that my critique was very much a personal one.

As I mentioned in my last post, I applaud the vision of changecamp. I respect the people who have undertaken such a monumental project because I know very well that it’s not for the faint of heart. As I mentioned to my Twitter mate, Joseph Dee, I want so badly to be wrong. But, I am honest about my skepticism because I role with conviction, I simply know no other way. For this reason alone, I will not apologize for my very personal criticisms nor will I take them back so they can be shared with the masses via the changecamp posse. No thanks; it’s simply not my style. I believe that at the heart of any hearty civic debate is the dire need for collaboration. And no, I’m not talking about the term that people throw around so that they feel good about themselves. I’m talking real, sometimes-it-feels-like-a-pain-in-the-ass collaboration. The kind that keeps the door open to the cynic, optimist and everyone else in between. Because guess what, it’s their community too!

If there’s one thing that came across clearly in my meeting with Kuznicki, it’s that his heart is in the right place. He believes change is possible and that’s more than I can say for a whole lot of Torontonians who simply sit back and complain, but do diddlysquat to the effect of manifesting real change. Because who are we kidding, without concerted efforts and specific intentions it’s merely wishful thinking to hope for change in TO folks. I think ChangeCamp has enormous potential to effect change in this city if it goes back to the drawing board and considers what’s at stake if it doesn’t bring everyone to the table. On my call for more diversity, Kuznicki assured me that there was a head member of OCASI present. For those who are unaware of the organization, OCASI stands for the Ontario Council of Agencies Serving Immigrants. So how many of you think this "head of OCASI" person is plugged into the real, everyday, day-in-day-out issues that matter to immigrants of all walks of life? Like seriously? I’d be interested in knowing how much of the information this person took away from ChangeCamp is actually being taken back and reworked into their model or partner agencies, because that’s effectively the change that changecampers are fighting for, right?

Minutiae aside, having the courage and willpower to act is surely a solid first step. Kuznicki told me he “quit a job in finance to start this project, but that this project is not about him, it’s about Toronto and the community of organizers that have made it all possible.” That’s where I think he is wrong. This project is as much about Mark and his story, as it is about me and my story. Because the bottom line is our stories are not dispassionate ones. And so, it is the collection of our shared stories, and not our toolkits, that will inspire change in Toronto.

Let’s say au revoir to rhetoric; let’s say bonjour to intentional change. Change that matters. The kind that means something to real people and that has a direct impact on our communities. Toronto Councillor Adam Vaughan is a case in point: I giddily read about his wonderful affordable housing project in Metro morning on Friday. He has made the seemingly impossible, possible. Vaughan eschews a bolder vision for Toronto in saying,

“imagine if the guy working the door in your building also lived in the building.”

To see a politician with this kind of purpose, beyond the noise, beyond the complicated ideologies that we submit to, reminds us all of how simple the solutions can be if we just take our blinders off and open our hearts and minds to a more holistic Toronto.

Another example caught my attention today as I flipped through a copy of the Toronto Star. Catherine Porter tells the tale of “wild imaginings” and the dire need to pick up the once-dubbed community hubs now abandoned, dingy, dungeons that are Toronto’s ice rinks. Her story is personal, passionate and very much a call to action. She had me in the first line and carried me through her journey, but more than that she also took me back to the days that my mom used to take me to the ice rink in my community. Something I believe every child should have the joy of experiencing. So yes, I will sign on to her campaign. She told me her story and helped me reminisce about mine. Now that's what I'm talking about folks!

Well, I hope I’ve said enough to help calm the flames of dissent. I encourage you to share the moment you fell in love with this city and why this project is so very personal to you. If you’re a believer and you’re just not quite there yet, just wait, you’ll get there. All it takes is a quick peak; just roll down the window and take the city in.

d.

A letter to ChangeCampTO exec:

ChangeCamp is all good in theory...it's what I've been waiting for a long time, so yes, I applaud the cause. But because I applaud the cause, I want it to be the best it can be, I want it to progress, I want to see it succeed, I want my Toronto to shine because changecamp exists. In order to do that we need to continually revisit the drawing board and make appropriate changes, so here's my thoughts:

1. Yes, we direly need change.
No Torontonian that's more or less plugged into the city will doubt that we need change. That kind of goes without saying since so many of the problems we face, we have faced for some time...the archaic systems we have in place are just not providing us with the forward-thinking solutions that we need to be Toronto the GREAT. So yes, WE can likely all jump on the change bandwagon, no questions asked. But, who is this 'we'--that is what will make changcamp rise and shine or fold embarrassingly (more on this below).

2. Time is of the essence.
I came to changecamp a little early (I'm an avid people-watcher) to soak in the energy of the room, catch a glimpse of the organizers/t-shirt posse and shmooze before what I was expecting to be the first day of Toronto the GREAT. But as I got comfortable in my seat, watched some people around the room, I couldn't help but sense a tone of arrogance, a tone of privilege, like we were "the chosen ones" to decide how change could be made possible for Toronto the suffering. It was an open-door/volunteer event, so the inklings were completely unfounded. I quickly brushed my guilty conscience aside, high on the expectations that this could be the future as we know it. As time ticked on by, I became more and more anxious (I'm not a busy person by any stretch of the imagination, but when people waste my time I have zero tolerance). This rant could go on for forever, so all I'll say is all excuses aside, changecamp events MUST run on schedule, especially when held on a weeknight. If not, you will lose people fast and steady before you've even started your pitch.

3. "Quieting our cleverness"
So when the show finally got on the road, I was surprised that Mark Kuznicki focused more on the past than on the present and the future. I'm all for recognizing our past and how it can help move us forward...but nothing about Mark's presentation moved me, I was not inspired and to get the engines going (I'd read it roaring) you so need to rev the crowds. Peter Block and Clay Shirky on the other hand seemed like they'd have intriguing stories...hearing them address the Toronto audience directly would've been cool (even if through a video conference or something). I interviewed McGuinty's speechwriter once and he said something that I think we all know but we forget- "people don't relate to facts; people relate to stories." I know Mark started this whole shabang, but if he can't make the masses roar, find someone else who can! It's like my hero Dayna Baumeister says, "we must suppress our egos, quiet our cleverness, and admit that we actually don't know all that much." If this project is to ignite civic paticipation in Toronto, and by the sounds of it that's what the mission is, well then we need to be willing to question every move and make it better and better and better some more.

4. The story that will inspire is the story of Toronto.
The story-telling approach cuts on every bias imaginable. How can someone tell you what you're doing is wrong or isn't working when all you're really doing is telling the story of Torontonians? Kazam! So how can changecamp do this? Well, going back to the feeling in the room...I think there was a lack of representation/diversity considering the mosaic that is our city. From the people running the show, to the candidates spewing their agendas, to the activists who were too extreme...it all seemed a bit too chaotic and I thought, how can we possibly achieve harmony amidst such discord? My solution: A representative(s) from every neighbourhood (with a population of x) in Toronto, who is plugged into the issues that affects their neighbourhood, that is willing to speak on their neighbours behalf and bring their cause to the table (I'm not sure how to select these neighbourhood representatives, but I do think we need to seriously consider being more representative).

OR vet the people you accept, you already do this in a way, but I would push the envelope some more. As changecamp grows, it would be interesting to really experiment with the audience-the life and breadth of this vital civic debate. Those 90 sec. videos could be a compilation of random "changemakers" in Toronto, and how we're going to include their stories in the project whether they want to be included in changecamp discussions or not. I spent one of my reading weeks in university volunteering at various homeless shelters throughout the week, working alongside people who had dedicated their entire lives to the service of others was incredibly humbling. If we tap into similar stories in Toronto to inspire our audience, well as adidas would say, impossible is nothing.

5. Why does changecamp feel more like elitecamp?
Our table had some great conversations, albeit pie in the sky, the exchange was invigorating. But while we came up with these same place, different time examples I began to muse how this toolkit approach would manifest itself in Toronto's worst neighbourhoods, among immigrant populations who are mainly concerned with making enough money to feed their kids and pay the bills, or the homeless folk who desperately need a second chance, how do we account for them in this project? Because surely a dialogue about the future of our city must account for these complex intersections.

I guess what I'm trying to say is, at present, changecamp feels a bit more like elitecamp. How can a group of people that have lived "the good life" for the most part possibly understand the lives of disenfranchised groups without including them in the conversation? How can change be made possible by handing out toolkits to random folk with the hope that they will go back and "fix their communities" without considering what their problems are in the first place? It sort of feels like writing prescriptions for diseases that are yet to be diagnosed, how utterly absurd.

6. A voice for the voiceless
This all made me think back to Hilary Swank in the movie Freedom Writers (2007). Not sure if you've seen it, but I love it for so many reasons...and there are parallels to consider for changecamp. Hilary Swank as preppy teacher Erin Gruwell goes into an inner city school to teach a bunch of seemingly "unteachable" at risk youth mired by violence and racial tensions. But, she gets chewed up and spit out by her class when she attempts to tell them what their problems are until she comes to the realization that she needs to listen. She gives a voice to the voiceless, allowing them to tell their stories and hear the stories of their classmates. A mentality shift ensues and they reclaim their lives.

People always talk about changing the world and saving the planet, I don't think that's our problem. What we need is a mentality shift. What we need is to save ourselves. From our egos, from our arrogance and accept that while we may live the good life, while we may have a voice, there are so many more Torontonians who are truly suffering, who are truly voiceless and it's how we empower them, how we include them in this project that will make it a project worthy of emulation.

Rant over. Hands tired. Mind looking forward.

d.