Page 10 - 06_July-Aug-2025

EDS
KIDS ON
THE BLOCK
This spring, on the first warm day after a long
winter, I took my kids for a downtown bike ride. We left
from our home in McCauley, the only neighbourhood
my son and daughter have ever known, and turned
onto 96th Street to test out the fancy new paved bike
paths. As we pedalled past a safe consumption site, a
man on the sidewalk shouted, “Kids on the block!” His
voice carried down the street, and I watched as people
around him quietly tucked away their pipes and foil.
Some greeted us with smiles.
At first, I was amused. Every community has its
busybodies, I thought. But then it happened again — a
woman, a block later, calling the same phrase. And the
same quiet shuffle and warm greetings followed. By the
time we returned home, I could anticipate it at almost
every corner. Curious, I asked around. No one knew
exactly where the phrase came from, but everyone
seemed heartened by it and even proud.
Somewhere in the past year, a kind of street code had
emerged — a recognition that children deserve a buffer
from certain adult realities. It was a small gesture that
reflected a big sign of mutual respect. The kind that
makes a place feel more welcoming.
McCauley is not what most people picture when they
think of an ideal neighbourhood. Quite the opposite.
I’ve had police come to my doors to investigate serious
crimes. I’ve seen and responded to overdoses here,
sometimes with my kids. I’ve had tools stolen from my
yard and at least one attempted break-in caught on
camera. But I’ve also experienced immense kindness
from housed and unhoused neighbours alike. And while
there have been tense moments for me and my kids,
they’ve been far outnumbered by moments of warmth
and courtesy.
That’s why I keep thinking about those four words:
“Kids on the block.” They’re a code of care, not enforce-
ment. A quiet pact between people with very different
lives, an unspoken agreement that we’re all neighbours,
regardless of how we cope with hard times.
In this issue, we asked Edmontonians what makes a
great neighbourhood. Their answers surprised us — not
because they were radical, but because they were deeply
human. The number one factor wasn’t street parking,
10 EDify. JULY•AUGUST.25
boutiques or river valley access. It wasn’t bike lanes or
lack thereof. It was good neighbours.
And that means all neighbours, even if they don’t
have a fixed address to show for it.
Yet this rarely enters the political conversation.
Instead, debates about what makes a city liveable tend
to revolve around property taxes, policing and the
perceived erosion of public order. Nowhere is this more
amplified than downtown, which has become a political
proxy for urban decay. Yes, the core has borne the brunt
of visible addiction, housing insecurity and mental-
health crises. But Edmonton is not unique in this. Cities
across Canada are grappling with the same issues. Still,
we talk about downtown revitalization mostly in terms
of economic return and workforce safety, doubling
down on enforcement rather than the social supports
that would benefit everyone.
Great communities aren’t built on amenities alone —
and certainly not just for the middle class. They’re
built on compassion: the small, everyday ways we
look out for one another. So when we imagine better
neighbourhoods, let’s imagine them as networks of
care, where respect travels both ways, across fences
and sidewalks.
Omar Mouallem
[email protected]
photo AARON PEDERSEN