For Mike Walkom, weekend nights on Jasper Avenue don’t include having a few drinks and spending time with friends at the bar anymore. Instead, the young Edmonton police constable is trying to keep the peace.
“When I was 18, not a lot could get me away from the bar,” says Walkom, who now puts many young males in the back of his car, something he attributes to a simple lack of connection between them and the communities. “They forget there are people that live around there,” he says. “They just kind of see it as an amusement park.”
The Edmonton bar scene is a hot spot for the young labour force moving into the city and commuting to the oil sands. Between 2001 and 2011, Edmonton’s population of 20- to 34-year-old males rose to 140,205 people, and a quarter of them were newcomers. That’s 38,363 young males – slightly more than the combined population of Lloydminster and Slave Lake coming into Edmonton, looking for work.
Our city is currently in the kind of rapid growth that scares social agencies; once the boom turns into a bust, many of these young males don’t have educated backgrounds to fall back on. A 2012 study by Athabasca University labour relations scholars Bob Barnetson and Jason Foster looked at the incoming workforce through the Alberta oil boom. They noted that between 2000 and 2002, the majority of foreign workers coming to Edmonton were university teachers and scientists. But between 2005 and 2008, most new workers entering the province were cooks and general labourers. As such, when the economic downturn hit in 2008, Alberta and British Columbia were the provinces that experienced the largest rise in unemployment.
Downtown Sgt. Ryan Lawley, a 10-year EPS veteran, has noticed a spike in the number of people arrested who are new to Edmonton. When many of these new residents can’t find work, they turn to crime. Because these males, who often have expendable incomes, have no ties to the communities in which they’ve landed, they might not care what happens there.