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In this fourth post from the 'Notes of a Newcomer' Blog Series, Clara meets with Rick Haldenby, who is the director at the School of Architecture at the University of Waterloo.

Click here to read the introduction to the blog series.

Author: Clara Bird

Sunshine speaks of the power of his education to shape him, his outlook and his skills. In speaking with Rick Haldenby, this is again confirmed to me. But I have come to think that it is not only the School of Architecture or even the University that molds; it’s the community at large. Rick Haldenby is the director of the School of Architecture. He has been in the position for many years. Originally arriving here for his undergraduate degree, he returned to the University of Waterloo after taking a long break to cycle across Europe, and has never left.

Rick was notably enthusiastic about doing an interview with me. In our correspondence, he was friendly and accommodating. We met for the first time at William’s Café, beside the Kitchener City Hall, and right across the street from the SiG office. I waited, a little anxiously, near the front door. As we had never met in person, I was worried that I might fail to recognize him. When he entered the café, he greeted me with a confident smile, and I knew I had the right person. In the line for coffee, we exchanged pleasantries and a mutual happiness about having found each other. In person, he expresses himself so similarly to his correspondent’s voice that I felt I was speaking with someone I had known for some time.

Before we had even sat down, and without beating around the bush, he began talking about the University, and the need for a strategic vision. He had been at a meeting earlier that day about a new initiative around social innovation. As he sees it, innovation is about better design and the here-and-now, perhaps a not surprising opinion from an architect. Still, as he emphasizes throughout our conversation, he has unique views on architecture and design and, consequently, on the School of Architecture, which he in no small part helped to create.

We sit down. Throughout our conversation, Rick stops to greet people in the café. As it turns out, he has a meeting at City Hall right after our interview, and several of his colleagues are in the café. I get the sense that he is well connected. Coffee in hand, I start off by asking Rick to tell me his story. With minimal prompting, I get a picture of a person, a member of this community, and a culture.

Beginnings: autonomous, self reliant, maverick.

Rick: "The School of Architecture was founded in 1967 and i started as a student in 69. The school began as part of Engineering, but it was the 60s and architects were long-haired, socially active, slightly subversive people, so it just didn’t work. The School of Engineering was a juggernaut with a very clear sense of mission, and the School of Architecture really didn’t fit in.

When i arrived, the School had been in existence for two years. it was completely chaotic, and with all due respect for the people involved, appallingly run. We were on our own, off campus in a completely inadequate building on Phillip Street. it was a recently built, one-story space in a completely featureless industrial building. virtually no money was invested to create educational facilities. it was the most unlikely location, in fact, quite ridiculous: an Architecture School in the “degree zero” of architecture.

In one sense, the university should have been ashamed, but looking at it from the point of view of institution building, it was genius planning; completely unintended, but genius. because of the fact that we had to invent everything, the strength and the resilience of the culture created on Phillip Street was extraordinary. You get a bunch of really creative people in a semi-isolated situation with very little support and they start inventing things. They invent a culture of really interesting ideas and actions. it was a wild time.

So, from the beginning, the Architecture School had a clear sense of its own autonomy. Many of us who have been with the school since it was on Philip Street consider our 21-year stint on campus to be the era of displacement. it was always our ideal to be more closely linked to the community."

Rick tells me that this maverick spirit of independence and inventiveness is central to the School of Architecture and its successes. It’s how they ended up incorporating a semester in Rome, how they changed the structure of the program to include a research-based Master’s degree, and how they ended up relocating. Each of these decisions came from a recognition that change needed to happen, and a belief that this could be accomplished. As Rick puts it: “It is not that I don’t consider the risk, or consider failure, but when something seems like the right idea and it answers the need, we try not to be overwhelmed by the details or constrained by normal expectations. I admit we have make mistakes, but somehow, we are able to make remarkable things happen.”

I find myself thinking: there it is again, the spirit of “Why not?”

Although all of Rick’s stories are telling, I think the best example of this is the School’s recent re-location. The School of Architecture has come full circle and is once again off campus... way off. The School is now located in downtown Cambridge. I ask Rick to explain how and why this happened.

Opportunity: moving the School of Architecture

He reiterates that the School’s community wasn’t happy on campus and was always considering the possibility of going elsewhere. They were not actively looking, but they were open to ideas. He tells me:

"It happened out of the blue. i was running a research project on mid-size cities, and i was trying to get the cities of Cambridge, Kitchener and Waterloo to support the project. One day, i was at a meeting of the Chamber of Commerce in Cambridge when one of the members of the executive said, “This project is fine, but we would really like to know what it would take to move the School of Architecture to Cambridge.” And, as we were sufficiently frustrated, my reaction was quite simple; i said it would take a great site and lots of money. He said, “Fine, then it’s as good as done.” That was November 3rd, 2000."

I wonder what prompted this suggestion. Rick explains that the Cambridge core had been decaying for a long time. Over the years, ideas were proposed for cultural centres or museums, but these things are terribly expensive and don’t attract enough people.

Rick continues:

"So they just limped along and waited. Then on that day in November, the group experienced one of those moments. They said, “Wait a minute, you have four hundred of the brightest young people in the country, they are a co-op school, and they are unhappy up on the Waterloo campus. We can find them a beautiful site.” So we said, “Great, let’s do it!”

Back at the campus we met with the President. He said, “This is going to be a short meeting. i have two questions. Number one: Does anyone think that Architecture doesn’t need new facilities?” Everyone knew we needed new facilities. “Number two: “Does anyone have any other ideas about how they would get them?” The answer was no. So the President said: “Okay, much as i would like to keep the School on campus, it looks as if we are going to Cambridge.”

I look back at this thing and see that a thousand eyes of needles had to align. leadership was crucial. The election in Cambridge was happening during the fall of 2000. A new candidate, Doug Craig, won by a very slim margin, so they asked for a recount. We had set up a meeting for the morning of the recount, with whoever won. At 10, Doug Craig walked into the room and i make the presentation, along with Tom Watson, the chair of the group of business people that were supporting this whole thing. No more then eight minutes later, Doug Craig said, “This is it. Architecture is the future of the city.”

Once the decision had been made, and a location chosen, they went to the provincial government and then the federal government to get money. Rick gives some details:

"We received support from the Province through the municipal infrastructure program. The federal legislation at the time prevented spending any of this money on educational facilities, so our alliance presented the building as urban renewal and, once again, we got the money because the City was making the request.

The organization of the project was also very innovative and fully cooperative; the City actually handled the construction of the school. The Province wouldn’t flow the money to the University because it was a municipal “super build” program, so the City built the building and on October 22, 2004, at the official opening, the City turned the building over to the university, so the university owns it now.

It was a brilliant solution and, again, there were elements of luck; but when you see the way opening in front of you, you have to go for it."

Two additional fortuitous things occurred in making the School of Architecture the place that it is. First, they acquired a gallery. As Rick explains:

"We couldn’t afford to create a gallery. The director of Cambridge library and Galleries, which is located across the square from us, came over and said, “I can find half a million dollars; if the university can lease the space to us, we will design and build the gallery, provide the staff, and we can collaborate on the overall exhibition program.” i was sitting there thinking, “i have died and gone to heaven.” All architecture schools want to have exhibit galleries, but it is difficult to get the necessary funding from universities. Community art galleries do far better, as they are eligible for a wider array of grants and funding. So we created Design at Riverside, one of only two publicly funded galleries in Canada dedicated to architecture and design. it is a unique collaboration and a wonderful bridge to the community."

Second, they got a restaurant on site.

"Shortly after we decided to relocate to Cambridge, i went to university Food Services and said: “So what can we do about a food outlet at the School of Architecture in Cambridge?” They came back and said: “You don’t have enough students; three hundred and eighty students isn’t enough to justify us putting anything in, even a coffee and donuts operation.” I filed it away, and then, with the business association, we did a request for proposals from restaurant operators. The winning proposal was from the people who run Solé and black Shop. They pay rent and we get an excellent café."

The new location, with all its various finishings, has had the intended effect. According to Rick, the students are proud of the facility and the City of Cambridge seems all the better for it. The School attracts about two hundred thousand people a year to the building.

Rick elaborates on this: “If you want to measure the tangible effect of this move, look at a tourist map of this area. The School of Architecture is on it. Since we announced the School was coming, the number of housing units in the Cambridge core has increased by two and a half times. The architecture students built Grand House. There is a new City Hall and a theatre on the way. Main Street is about to be renewed. All is change.”

I ask Rick whether, on the whole, the University has been supportive. He responds, “Absolutely, the University supported the initiative; everyone knew the School of Architecture needed new facilities and there was no hope of obtaining them in the foreseeable future.” That said, the thought of moving away from the campus was not universally welcomed. Upon reflection, it seemed to Rick that the University that grew out of the community had become somewhat isolated over time. Significantly, perhaps, the Waterloo campus is encircled by a ring road; in contrast, the School of Architecture was from the beginning conceived of as a partnership with Cambridge, with the intention that the School add a creative heart to the community, a facility in which the public would feel welcome.

He goes on:

"There is a spirit of innovation at the university of Waterloo that is balanced by a spirit of conservatism; in that sense it is actually quite consistent with the community. The same people who are visionaries in one sense can be quite conservative in other ways. it’s something about the culture here; they look at issues squarely, they are best when addressing practical problems and technical problems. There is a spirit of innovation, but the campus itself has no overall order and the quality of design is mixed to say the least."

In all this, I can tell that Rick feels that the School of Architecture is different. But I wonder. It seems to me that the spirit of “why not” prevails across the board. Perhaps it is more an issue of scale; the School is relatively small, while the University is huge. At that level it is more difficult to act independently and spontaneously; different tools are needed. However, the University does seem to encourage this spirit in its faculty and students. In fact, Rick himself notes this: “If I might be a little irreverent about it, one of the great provocations to be innovative at Waterloo is its belief that it is still a bit the underdog: “You think we can’t do this—just watch us.”

Thinking about this spirit, I ask Rick for his opinion on what motivates the School, his faculty and himself towards innovative change.

He responds that the whole quality of innovation that the School developed was to simply look at problems as directly as they could: “We took advantage of opportunities, we made opportunities, we were willing to step outside and try something no one else has tried, and immediately things started to happen.”

Indeed. With its unique program, its semester abroad, and the new location, the School has become a great success. “Now we are getting sixteen hundred kids applying for seventy-two spots, and these are the best students in the country.”

In his experience and his thinking, Rick is strikingly similar to Sunshine. They both believe that self-reliance, recognizing and capitalizing on opportunity, and the spirit of the underdog are all key to making change happen. Sunshine speaks of the power of connections directly; Rick makes reference to it in all his stories, and would no doubt attribute some of his success to this. They both give credit to the University for molding and infusing them with the “Why not?” spirit, but almost like teenagers to their parents, they criticize it in turn. They are both deeply invested in Waterloo, in one way or another, and want to see it build into a vibrant cosmopolitan community. However, in their strategies to achieve this, they differ somewhat. Sunshine seems to affirm his local commitment by staying very central, but it seems that Rick has done so by moving to the edges.

Rick strikes me as ambitious. I think he wants to see the School of Architecture on a world stage. This seems to come at the cost of separating it somewhat from the University, and maybe even the community, in the short term. The move out of the municipality of Waterloo is symbolic: breaking away from the local while bridging with the national and the international. The success of the School of Architecture brings this community closer to its cosmopolitan ideal.

My conversations with Sunshine and Rick have made me recognize a conflict in this community between its independent, highly entrepreneurial, self reliant spirit, and its desire for growth, cosmopolitanism, and change on a large scale. Social innovation operates at multiple levels, and necessitates changes at each, and across them all. I think this may be a real challenge for this community. Scaling innovations up to the next plane often requires breaking with practices and norms, allowing for dissent and diversity. It also requires adding resources, often from new sources. This last point was reinforced for me in my next conversation. Chantal Cornu was open and frank about financing, and made me aware that few people discussed this central issue.

Please stay tuned for the next post in the series.

If you are interested in obtaining a hardcopy of the book, please contact the SiG office at 1-519-888-4567, Ext. 32525 or info@sig.uwaterloo.ca

About 'Notes of a Newcomer': The 'Notes of a Newcomer' project began in late 2008 and is both an investigation into social innovation at the local level and an exploration of Waterloo Region specifically. Told through the experiences of Clara Bird, a young person newly arrived in the region, it was also an opportunity for SiG@Waterloo to build, and build upon, its relationships in the local community. As a result of the exploration, a book was published consisting of a series of interviews with community members. Through the ‘Notes of a Newcomer’ Blog Series, we hope to share these stories with you.

FINAL - Notes of a Newcomer.pdf

In part two of 'Notes of a Newcomer' blog series, Clara Bird meets with community members that are building bridges for social innovation to flourish in the Waterloo Region.

Click here to read the introduction to the blog series.

Author: Clara Bird

Originally written on October 2, 2008

It is now undeniably fall and utterly unlike the sunny morning when I started writing this account. I am out at my parents’ house in Haysville. Again, I am out on the porch, only this time I am covered in blankets, sipping hot tea and watching the rain and the trees swaying in the wind.

I have reached a natural pause in the story. My first interview with Lynn set the context and gave me some clues to understanding this region: its unique capacities and its challenges. To paint a complete picture of this region would be a lifelong project. For the purpose of understanding the capacity for social innovation here, I will now focus in on the community characteristics that seem to either enable or inhibit social innovations as they emerge and struggle for viability in the Waterloo Region. First, though, I take a stab at linking what I have heard so far with what I am absorbing of social innovation models, from Frances Westley and others.

Beginning with Lynn and through Sunshine’s story, i am beginning to see that this region may be a place where renewal and reorganization thrive. In terms of social innovation models, this directly relates to what is called “the back loop of an adaptive cycle”: the natural periods of time when elements of the old are left behind and new possibilities get lots of attention. The entrepreneurial, creative, bottom up, self reliant and maverick spirit of Waterloo Region means that new ideas abound, are usually welcome and appear to be supported.

These qualities are affirmed in Isabel’s story. However, as I conjectured initially after talking to Lynn, some of the capacities essential for the periods of renewal and reorganization may perversely be limiting a capacity for the growth and conservation, or what is called “the front loop” of the adaptive cycle. It is in this phase of innovation that ideas become institutionalized. They are scaled up, spread out and become part of the fabric of every day life.

I wonder if initiatives and organizations in this Region may at times unintentionally block social innovations by not making place for outsiders in central roles. In an environment that lacks relevant diversity, or that fails to include all voices connected to the place or the objectives, ideas will be born, but then may struggle to be brought to fruition. Ironically perhaps, having a strong grassroots stakeholder model in which most ideas must be collaboratively imagined, may mean that some potentially important innovations are not widely enough supported, do not get approved up, and therefore, never see the light of day.

I shall now turn my attention to the remaining interviews with the hope of deepening my understanding of these capacities and their roots, as well as these challenges and their origins.

Click here to read the next post in the series.

If you are interested in obtaining a hardcopy of the book, please contact the SiG office at 1-519-888-4567, Ext. 32525 or info@sig.uwaterloo.ca

About ‘Notes of a Newcomer’: The ‘Notes of a Newcomer’ project began in late 2008 and is both an investigation into social innovation at the local level and an exploration of Waterloo Region specifically. Told through the experiences of Clara Bird, a young person newly arrived in the region, it was also an opportunity for SiG@Waterloo to build, and build upon, its relationships in the local community. As a result of the exploration, a book was published consisting of a series of interviews with community members. Through the ‘Notes of a Newcomer’ Blog Series, we hope to share these stories with you.

FINAL - Notes of a Newcomer.pdf

In this third post from the ‘Notes of a Newcomer’ Blog Series, Clara meets with Sunshine Chen

Click here to read the introduction to the blog series.

Author: Clara Bird

Insider: well known and knowing

I am set to meet Sunshine Chen at Hannah’s Bella Bistro in Uptown Waterloo. I arrive early and wait for Sunshine outside the restaurant, listening to music and taking in the surroundings. Hannah’s sits on the east side of King Street North, slightly up from the base of the hill that begins at Erb Street. On the opposite side of the street you can see Waterloo Town Square. Both sides of the street are lined with an eclectic range of establishments, from high fashion boutiques to low budget Asian eateries. Living in this Region, it doesn’t take long to figure out that this is, for many, the “it” neighbourhood. With CIGI, RIM, the universities and the Municipal and Regional governments nearby, Uptown Waterloo has seen a renaissance of shops and restaurants to meet the tastes of students, university faculty and staff, famous visitors, up and coming tech folk and well established business and government people. I muse at the effect, wondering if it’s another clue to understanding this place. Because, just like the majority of the clientele this neighbourhood serves, it feels both promising and transitory.

Sunshine arrives and we go inside. Hannah’s Bella Bistro is spacious, with high ceilings and a roomy floor plan. It is colourful, artful and inviting, yet serious about its food. Once we are seated, Sunshine immediately inquires about me, my job and my reason for being in Waterloo—ten minutes later I find that I am still prattling on. In his job for his company, Storybuilders, a communications and media firm, Sunshine does a lot of interviewing, and he is clearly a skilled listener who is interested in people and their lives.

A young girl walks by and Sunshine says hello. Minutes later, a woman comes over to the table. Sunshine introduces her as Hannah, the chef and owner of the restaurant, and says: “Since we are talking about social innovation, you should meet Hannah; she started this restaurant when she was 25 years old, just this girl with dreads and a belief about how you create an environment that is both creative and ‘out of the box’, but also a comfortable nice place for people to stay.” How interesting I think; there’s that theme again of striving to be very open to the new but remain comfortable and familiar. Hannah laughs off Sunshine’s characterization of her and these two chat about mutual friends for a while, leaving me to the side, to listen.

I get the impression that Sunshine is well known in this town. He seems to pride himself on knowing the people and the places that make up Waterloo. From their brief conversation, I gather that Tuesday is a 2-dollar taco night at Ethel’s and there is live jazz every Friday and Saturday nights at King Street Trio. I am learning that there is much going on in this town that exists almost “underground”; but knowing the right people gets you access to an insider’s vantage point. I guess this is true of any community, but I wonder, is it more true here in Waterloo? Before I can share my thoughts, Hannah heads back to the kitchen and the food arrives. I set aside my own wonderings, and turn back to hear more of Sunshine’s story about his city.

Arrival: knowing your context and meeting demand

Sunshine is a compelling narrator. He describes his life like a series of detective stories. There is always a challenge or mystery, a clever detective who gathers the clues, and an ingenious answer that solves the case in the end.

I ask him to tell me about how he came to be in Waterloo and he explains that he has an uncle who came to school here and his grandparents decided to follow. His parents came to join the family when he was a small child. He goes on to tell me that his grandparents used to own a convenience store near the University of Waterloo. They noticed an increase in Asian clientele and soon figured out that their store was the only one around to stock instant noodles. Subsequently, they suggested that his parents start a Chinese restaurant to meet an obvious demand for Asian food. His parents opened Sunshine Express many years ago and it continues to be a success today.

Afterwards, I recognize that this seemingly unrelated story about his grandparents is meant to be a clue about the entrepreneurial spirit of the community. Further, I can see that Sunshine’s story of his family’s arrival and successful installation in Waterloo introduces his own story and, moreover, the one he wants to tell about this community. As he begins the story of how, as a young man, he ended up staying in Waterloo, despite his firm intentions to leave, I feel as though Sunshine is making a case for Waterloo and a personal appeal to me, not as an individual but as a young person. Clearly, attracting and keeping youth in this community is an important piece in his puzzle for building a bigger and better Waterloo. He gives some voice to my earlier sense of a “promising but transitory” feel to some of Waterloo’s population.

Home: embracing the spirit of “Why not?”

Framing his tale, Sunshine tells me that Waterloo has a place in Samuel Bronfman’s story: “It’s where he placed his biggest bet.” Sunshine explains that during the 30’s when prohibition was enforced in the United States, Samuel Bronfman bet that it wouldn’t hold, and he bought the Joseph E. Seagram whisky distillery in Waterloo. During the entire time of prohibition, Seagram continued to make whiskey, and when prohibition broke, Joseph E. Seagram and Sons was the largest whisky maker in the world.

Sunshine reveals the relevance of this to him: “Even though I didn’t know that history then, those buildings, the warehouses, were huge in my own personal imagination, because as a kid I would regularly ride down Erb street, right up next to them. They were part of my childhood imagining and understanding of this city.”

Moving forward, Sunshine tells me:

I was in Architecture School when Seagram decided to close and tear down its buildings. At the time, i had started doing my thesis and was looking for a topic. i didn’t want an exotic locale for my thesis because I was gearing up to leave when I finished. This was going to be my last eight months in Waterloo, so i thought: “Why not pick a local site? Then i am out of here! i am destined to be in a big city!” So, i decided to do my thesis on the development of the Seagram land.

During this period, across the country, everyone had the same question: “What is the future for downtown centres?” With this in my mind, i completed my thesis—and it made this strange proposal. You see, i was watching and i started to understand what anchors this community: the University. I wanted to figure out how to get the university into the core. i proposed building a convocation hall that would double as a convention centre for the high tech industry. i suggested building a hotel and residences in the “barrel warehouses.” Also, I figured that if you are going to create a venue that is going to showcase your best and brightest, then you need the best and brightest to be here. So i proposed research institutes and think tanks.

I am impressed by Sunshine’s foresight and ingenuity and I ask him whether his academic supervisors were similarly taken with his ideas. He tells me that they were sceptical; in fact, he was heavily grilled in his review. He explains that despite being interested in his idea they just couldn’t believe that a university could anchor a downtown. “They were all from Toronto so they didn’t really get Waterloo.”

This last thought is interesting to me. The University of Toronto is nestled right in the centre of Toronto, so clearly Sunshine’s professors were familiar with universities anchoring urban cores. I imagine that Sunshine is suggesting his professors found it hard to imagine Waterloo as a similarly designed city, perhaps because of the “small town” feel of this region, while in fact Sunshine’s vision for Waterloo is as a growing and busy metropolis, not unlike Toronto. Later in our interview he speaks to this directly, but for now, he comes back to his story:

So the day i defended my thesis, The Record announces that the City is buying the land but they have no plans for it. Despite my reservations (at that point i was set to leave and go to work for a world famous architect in Kyoto), my mother convinced me to call the City and propose the idea. The response was that they couldn’t afford it, so i let the idea drop. After all, i had Japan.

Around this time, Sunshine continues, his friends recommended he talk with visiting economics professor, Larry Smith. The two hit it off and Smith called the City on his behalf. The City called the next day and agreed to come and see his model at the University. He gave them his proposal, careful to relate it to them using their language and to appeal to their needs and concerns. At the end of the presentation, the officials called for the city truck, packed everything up, and invited Sunshine to present to the City’s senior management team the following day.

Sunshine tells me that the first question that senior management asked him was where he went to school, and when he responded that he had graduated from the School of Architecture, they asked him if there were other people like him there. He replied with a definite “yes!” Shortly thereafter, explains Sunshine, the City offered him a job to help them figure out what to do with the Seagram land.

So he stayed. I ask, half joking, whether the prospect of a steady income convinced him to stall his departure. He confirms this, laughing, but tells me that what actually persuaded him to take the job was home, it was a sense of home, of doing something for his home.

It’s an intriguing and remarkable story. I wonder what gave Sunshine the courage to keep pushing, at times defiantly. He reiterates again: “I had Japan and [nothing to lose], and remember, I went through the Co-op Program at the University. So, why not?”

Why not indeed? Like the current motto of the University of Waterloo, Sunshine’s story of how he ended up staying in Waterloo is filled with the spirit of “Why not?”: a maverick, risky, defiant, inventive and playful attitude towards life. It also alludes to the importance of connections, of recognizing windows of opportunity and anticipating what’s to come. Further, it is a story of hope and optimism and a love of home. Trying to separate out what of this belongs to Sunshine himself and what is characteristic of this community, I question Sunshine about the relevance of the School of Architecture and its Co-op Education Program in his story and that of Waterloo.

By way of an answer, he relays a conversation he had with the president of the University over breakfast. I am struck by the double message in his statement; it is clearly about Co-op’s influence on its students, but also again, about having significant alliances.

I am amused by his bravado and ask Sunshine to elaborate on this conversation. He tells me that the experience of Co-op at the School of Architecture is totally decimating because there is a hugely unrealistic amount of work to do and because the students are largely left to their own devices, isolated from others students and the rest of campus.

Though difficult, I think Sunshine is saying that this kind of experience builds amazing resolve and self-reliance. In the real world, this translates into a feeling of being very capable and creative, able to go above and beyond what is expected.

The other side of the story: isolationism

But there are negative connotations as well: “The School moved to Cambridge to pioneer. They like to be pioneers, but what they sacrificed was that they left Waterloo at the moment when the culture and the infrastructure were reaching maturity. They lost the opportunity to connect with people who are creating new buildings and advancing new ways of thinking. It is odd for a School of Architecture that is supposed to design buildings for the larger society to be kind of anti-social.”

This is the first time I have heard Sunshine be overtly critical of his alma mater or the town and I think it’s because, like the professors he spoke of earlier, the School of Architecture contradicted his vision to urbanize Waterloo. Arguably, however, the School’s move may have this effect in the long term for the Region, as Cambridge grows and attracts a more diverse set of citizens. In the short term, however, it could be seen as isolationism, something that Sunshine is clearly fighting against. This is perhaps the flip side of the self reliant, independent and maverick spirit Sunshine champions.

Place: what makes this community so innovative?

Sunshine has a way of tying his stories back to his main argument, in this case, the merit of the Waterloo Region. He tells me that the Co-op model of hard work, struggle and self reliance typifies what goes on in the larger Waterloo community. “What is really fascinating is that every time people decided that they were going to take care of themselves, they found answers to things that are much more universal.” He cites two examples of what he feels were new and innovative initiatives: the very first offering of a Peace and Conflict Studies program at the University of Waterloo, and the grassroots beginnings and corporate success of the locally launched Home Hardware franchise.

In Sunshine’s words:

This is a place where we get to experiment.”

I ask Sunshine what he thinks allows for this capacity for experimentation and self reliance. He gives me an answer which he says is only part of the equation and it highlights an important ingredient he had only spoken about indirectly up to this point: the power of connections.

If you stick around in a community long enough, things kind of emerge. At some point, Paul Born of Tamarack Institute and John Colangeli of Lutherwood, two locally based, very successful social innovators whose programs have had immense impact way outside of this region, called me into a meeting for an idea being developed called Leadership Waterloo. That experience opened my eyes to the fact that no one is more than a phone call away in a community like this. In some ways, it’s a small community, a tight-knit group where things get done on a handshake and relationships come pretty easy and hold a lot of weight.

I suggest that perhaps this might not be everyone’s experience, but Sunshine seems to dismiss this: “Well, it depends on where you hang out. I will let you in on a secret and it says more about Waterloo than about me; the most cosmopolitan place in Waterloo is Chapters (book store).” He goes on to tell me about an experience he had recently. He was in Chapters over the Christmas period and noticed that both Malcolm Gladwell (author of Tipping Point and Blink) and Mike Lazaridis (Founder and CEO of Research in Motion, inventor of the Blackberry) were in the store. Seizing the opportunity, he introduced himself to both of them, and then, introduced them to each other. He finishes his thought by saying: “This could never have happened in Toronto.”

I am inclined to agree. Sunshine describes himself as a connector, and I can see why. But, as he has done throughout our interview, he takes no credit, instead attributing this unlikely happening to the specific community environment that is Waterloo. He appears to be fascinated with what he sees as its innovative, entrepreneurial nature, but he admits to not having figured out why it’s like that. He reflects: “This is the question, this is what is fascinating; maybe it’s the Mennonite roots, the working together...” Yet for all his history and experience here, he’s not completely sure; after all, it’s hard to really see yourself or your own reality clearly. It’s typically a blind spot.

Next: the making of a metropolis

Despite repeatedly telling me that he has been trying to leave for years, I can tell that Sunshine is dedicated to Waterloo and will probably stay. Sunshine’s stories of Waterloo in the past and present seem to be infused with his belief in its future; he is committed to helping transform Waterloo into a metropolis. He muses about what it means to be a big city:

When you are in a big city you have no choice but to interact with other people, they are in your space and you are in theirs. Suburbs are different, they are all “this is my castle.” This is funny because people always say cities are more impersonal and smaller towns are friendlier. It isn’t really that way, is it? So this is the challenge, how do we make people feel that it’s okay to get messy, interact and get out of their nice bubbles?

Sunshine is busily tying to do this. He talks about an event he has begun holding at a house. It’s a cultural potluck that is about bringing people together who otherwise would not be in the same place. He invites me to come sometime. His company, Storybuilders, and his work with the cultural initiative, Neruda Productions, echo this kind of perspective. As he puts it: “I still believe that design and architecture have a role to play in enhancing culture, but that before we can get there, we need to bolster the culture itself.”

My interview with Sunshine went on for more than two and a half hours and felt more like a conversation. Since then, I have encountered him several times, and in many ways I think of him as exemplifying what this community is all about. His own story, as well as his thoughtful insights and infectious optimism, paint a picture of a place uniquely capable of supporting its citizens through strong connections and a maverick spirit of entrepreneurship and self-reliance. Yet, perhaps because of its seeming preoccupation with independence and “the Waterloo way,” it still feels like the “big small town” that Lynn described. But from his stories and his manner, I get the impression that Sunshine is a keen barometer of social and cultural shifts and that his vision for the metropolis of tomorrow is not far off. The increased immigration and diversification that Lynn spoke of will result in a new landscape for Waterloo. The question is what will that future landscape look like and how will the community weather the journey forward? Perhaps the metaphor of an adolescent fits: full of growing pains, still hankering after childhood, yet being propelled forward despite itself. Will it resist? Will it embrace change? What kind of adult will this region become?

Click here to read the next post in 'Notes of a Newcomer'.

If you are interested in obtaining a hardcopy of the book, please contact the SiG office at 1-519-888-4567, Ext. 32525 or info@sig.uwaterloo.ca

About ‘Notes of a Newcomer’: The ‘Notes of a Newcomer’ project began in late 2008 and is both an investigation into social innovation at the local level and an exploration of Waterloo Region specifically. Told through the experiences of Clara Bird, a young person newly arrived in the region, it was also an opportunity for SiG@Waterloo to build, and build upon, its relationships in the local community. As a result of the exploration, a book was published consisting of a series of interviews with community members. Through the ‘Notes of a Newcomer’ Blog Series, we hope to share these stories with you.

FINAL - Notes of a Newcomer.pdf

In this second post from the 'Notes of a Newcomer' Blog Series, Clara meets with Lynn Randall, who is Director of Social Planning, Policy and Program Administration at the Region of Waterloo.

Click here to read the introduction to the blog series.

Author: Clara Bird

Lynn Randall and I arranged to meet in her office in the Region’s Health and Social Services Building, on Regina Street in Uptown Waterloo. The office building is new, shiny, full of light, and located in the heart of the action. Lynn, who is the Director of Social Planning, Policy and Program Administration, greets me with a warm smile and invites me into her office. I sit down across the desk from her. She has laid out a series of documents for me to take home; they include progress reports, pamphlets and information on some of the initiatives that the Region is currently working on.

Regional government: uniting and servicing a broad and diverse community

Lynn begins by explaining the Regional government to me. She explains that in Canada there are three levels of government: federal, provincial and local or municipal. Over the past decade, the provincial government has been downloading responsibility for social programs to the municipalities, a move that often compromises their ability to provide services, as programs are funded from a finite tax base. Waterloo Region recognized that it needed to organize in order to cope with these greater demands, and the Social Planning Division was created by the Regional government in 1999. Lynn feels that this move filled a gap and has improved the Region’s capacity for social planning and service delivery.

Planning: taking a strategic and long term view of the future

Knowing that I am here to learn more about social innovation, Lynn segues into describing the Region’s strategic focus. According to Lynn, having a strategic plan that guides programming is quite useful. With input from the public, the Region has developed strategic priorities and areas of focus. For the term 2007–2010, these include: environmental sustainability, growth management, healthy and safe communities, human services, infrastructure, and service excellence. Lynn feels this forward looking and strategic approach makes the Regional government more capable of serving this community as well as fostering innovation. When I ask her to explain this to me, she singles out two areas of strategic focus: service excellence and growth management.

People: encouraging dedication, relationships and risk taking

Lynn tells me that as part of its mandate for service excellence, the Region has made a concerted effort to foster a supportive and creative work environment for staff. She explains that people are given the opportunity and the necessary support to take risks.

She also stresses that the Region is blessed with very good leadership. Several of the people on the Board and in executive positions have been in leadership roles for a long time. Lynn feels that people who have an extensive shared history trust each other more and are thus more willing to be flexible and even to go out on a limb together. This helps counter the effects of greater turnover among their provincial counterparts, where new staff may have no memory of local situations and issues. I ask myself whether having the same people in positions of power over a long period of time might actually stifle creativity and new ideas, but I can’t disagree with Lynn’s point that personal relationships can be very powerful in making things happen.

Change: using it to the community’s advantage

The Region’s strategic plan also prioritizes growth management. As Lynn sees it, this means planning for sustainability and making commitments: “You have a responsibility to see things through.” A big part of a sustainable community is an openness to inevitable change. To this end, Lynn tells me that the regional staff are trained in change theory. There is an acknowledgement that change happens, and the staff have been taught to expect it and to manage it. Lynn stresses the importance of timing, knowing when to push and when to hold back: “Timing is everything; you don’t want to introduce change, on top of change, on top of change. It’s about managing change. If you don’t understand it you can’t direct it; you want to be able to absorb change and, when possible, have an impact on how it plays out.”

Internal support for people and growth management for a changing community are two factors that Lynn feels foster the Region’s capacity for innovation; and having them mandated in the strategic plan is an innovation in itself.

Outreach: local workers better represent and serve individual communities

Further, Lynn tells me that the innovation found in the strategic plan extents to the delivery of the Region’s programs. She describes a program developed in consultation with the community called the “Community Outreach Program,” wherein outreach workers are chosen from among local individuals rather than relying on the Region’s employees. The belief is that local workers will be better able to reflect and meet their community’s needs. Lynn describes the Region’s role: “We work with the community to brainstorm ideas, to provide education and resources, and to come up with a model that works. We are out there but invisible. Our goal is to mobilize and equip local people and their organizations or neighbourhoods from behind the scenes—we see ourselves as enablers.”

Input: changes that come from the bottom are more likely to make it to the top

On this point, Lynn is visibly animated. I can tell that she is particularly proud of the extent to which the community is participating in, and contributing to, the Region’s programming. As she says: “There is a huge amount of community input here; we avoid working from the top down. We don’t go out with the authority of the Region and tell people what to do. We go out and ask what we can do to help. Like with the Community Outreach Program or the strategic plan, the community is always consulted. Ideas and solutions come from them.” There seems to be a fundamental belief that if a project is going to work, and if the Regional government is going to make any difference, it needs to be owned by the citizens.

Frankly, I would agree. Although I also know that such intense, long-term consultation and strong sense of ownership may bring its own challenges.

Balance: the down side of managing up

Anticipating my next thought, Lynn continues: “Sometimes this is very straightforward and sometimes it is more complex, even controversial.” She illustrates this for me with the issue of homelessness: “In our community, emergency shelters were often established within the faith and benevolent communities and they grew up organically; places like the House of Friendship or the YWCA. They, of course, bring with them a set of values-based approaches that can be in conflict with new ideas for solutions to the problems. For example, if it’s shown elsewhere that an effective approach to getting people off the streets is to have a “wet shelter” versus a “dry shelter,” there might be objections from faith-based organizations. So, innovative approaches may come up that are accepted and work in other places , but these are not necessarily compatible with our community’s sense of values and identity.”

Further, Lynn tells me, community input sometimes halts progress. I gather from what she is saying that the cost of significant community input is that sometimes a good idea, especially one that involves necessary change, is rejected. This can happen for a variety of reasons but very often is simply human nature’s fear of changing what’s familiar. Those who study innovation have discovered that different types and levels of collaboration are needed at different points in the development of any good initiative; but shifting these gears can be hard to do. Lynn’s comments remind me that it is no easy task to balance extensive community participation with a mandate for innovative growth and change.

Big small town: strong roots and knowing your neighbour

I wonder if this emphasis on community input is a reflection of the community itself. Confirming this intuition, Lynn notes: “People have strong roots here and a sense of having created a good quality of life. There is an expression used to describe this place: “a big small town.” It’s about a sense of the history and belonging, about safety and knowing your neighbours. We have half a million people living in this Region but you don’t get that sense.”

Her musings about the community in some ways echo her descriptions of the Regional government and I ponder the old adage about the chicken and the egg. Does the community flavour the character of the Regional government or do the governing bodies shape the community? I suspect it is the former, but also that the people in the Regional government are particularly good at recognizing their community’s identity, needs and challenges.

Challenges: a community shifting

On that note, I ask Lynn what she feels are the most pressing and difficult obstacles facing this community. Lynn acknowledges that this place is rapidly changing; she mentions more newcomers, more elderly people, increasing urbanization. In particular, Lynn recognizes the challenge produced by the ripple effects of a growing population intersecting with a downturn in the economy. Further, the increasing number of seniors presents difficulties in terms of keeping elderly people healthy and in their homes. As for the Region’s geography, she adds: “We have created a hard geographical boundary so we can have a good balance between urban and rural, but it’s a delicate balance. We have increasing pressures on both sides: the dying business of farming is hard for young people, and core urban areas need to be intensified and revitalized.” She sums up her thoughts: “Overall, we need to become friendlier in terms of the physical, architectural and attitudinal. “

As Lynn has stressed, the Region is aware of current and future challenges and it is trying to balance its response: to be prepared yet flexible; to reward risk, novelty and spontaneity while accommodating the concerns of its citizens; and to maintain long standing connections. I am struck by the difficulty of negotiating these juxtapositions, particularly in the context of a community in transition.

Onward: transitioning to the big while maintaining the small

From our interview, I have an impression of Lynn as an intelligent and thoughtful person. Later, I would realize that her story led to a framework of my own; she has provided me with a foundation for reflecting on my experiences with this place. From Lynn, I gather that this is a community that values its neighbours, the strengths of its ties and traditions, and significant community participation in government. It is also a community that is forward looking, entrepreneurial, risk taking and on the brink of significant change. Its population of 500,000 is about to balloon, making it a metropolis, at least in size. But what then of the “big small town”? Can the Waterloo Region grow and evolve while still maintaining its identity? Is there space for innovations that shake up the status quo? With these questions in mind, I set out to better understand these seemingly contrasting characteristics and dynamics, and what they mean for this Region’s capacity for social innovation and real, durable change.

Click here to read the next post in the 'Notes of a Newcomer' Blog Series

If you are interested in obtaining a hardcopy of the book, please contact the SiG office at 1-519-888-4567, Ext. 32525 or info@sig.uwaterloo.ca

About 'Notes of a Newcomer': The 'Notes of a Newcomer' project began in late 2008 and is both an investigation into social innovation at the local level and an exploration of Waterloo Region specifically. Told through the experiences of Clara Bird, a young person newly arrived in the region, it was also an opportunity for SiG@Waterloo to build, and build upon, its relationships in the local community. As a result of the exploration, a book was published consisting of a series of interviews with community members. Through the ‘Notes of a Newcomer’ Blog Series, we hope to share these stories with you.

FINAL - Notes of a Newcomer.pdf

About 'Notes of a Newcomer': The 'Notes of a Newcomer' project began in late 2008 and is both an investigation into social innovation at the local level and an exploration of Waterloo Region specifically. Told through the experiences of a young person newly arrived in the region, it was also an opportunity for SiG@Waterloo to build, and build upon, its relationships in the local community. As a result of the exploration, a book was published consisting of a series of interviews with community members. Through the ‘Notes of a Newcomer’ Blog Series, we hope to share these stories with you. In the first blog of the series, we bring you the short introduction where Clara, the author, outlines the project in more detail, introduces herself, and describes her first experiences of making a life in Waterloo Region.

Author: Clara Bird

Wednesday, September 24th, 2008

It is warm for a fall day. Except for a slight change of colour in the leaves, it could be August, even July. From my balcony at 51 Mansion Street, I can see my neighbour Bill working on his house. In the time since we moved in, he has replaced most of the windows on the house and is now a good way through the construction of his porch. He promises to have Ola and me over for a beer once he has completed it. I think his offer is genuine. Bill is like that. While he is working away, a steady stream of people come by to visit. One day I noticed him unloading several coolers from his truck. When I inquired as to their contents, he told me he was distributing his family’s sausages to friends and neighbours. I know little of Bill’s history but recognize in his kind manner to me, and his interaction with others, that he is generous and open—exemplary of the community he calls his own. The simple fact of being his neighbour grants Ola and me some membership, too.

I arrived in Kitchener in January of last year. I had visited several times during the fall to see my parents, who had recently relocated here from Montreal. Circumstances conspired and Ola and I found ourselves taking up residence here, albeit somewhat ambivalently. I am from Montreal and Ola is from London in the UK. We are used to the “big city.” But we were both unemployed and this area seemed full of opportunities. So we moved. It was a snowy winter, and for the first few months Ola and I took refuge in our apartment on Schneider Ave, creeping out occasionally to the Shortstop on the corner, or to the Boathouse, when we needed life and company. Ola was working as a researcher for the University, and I was working on contract for Tamarack, editing a manuscript. I had made acquaintances through my search for work, but we had few peers and no friends. We were often on our own and spent much of our free time visiting friends in other places. Consequently, Kitchener-Waterloo seemed like a lonely place. We were aware of a strong community, but remained outside it.

In March, I was given the opportunity to work for SiG@Waterloo. They were looking for someone to do a short contract and I was available and eager. My task has been to write a piece about the community where SiG has taken up residence. SiG@Waterloo is the academic node of a larger national initiative, Social Innovation Generation, established to investigate and support social innovation across Canada. Located within the University of Waterloo, this node’s chief goal is to explore, research and facilitate greater understanding of how and when social innovation occurs. Unlike some of the other nodes, SiG@Waterloo is not site specific, but aims instead to be an intellectual hub for generating ideas. That said, there is a recognition that novel approaches to solving social challenges cannot happen in a bubble. For academic ideas to have impact, they must have input from, and contribute to, the larger community. As such, SiG@ Waterloo collaborates on local initiatives that leverage and enhance the talents and creativity latent in this community. SiG’s local goals focus on deepening the understanding of social innovation in this region and strengthening capacity through sharing resources.

So, SiG wants to better understand the qualities that make this community thrive, as well as the challenges that hold it back. Further, understanding these processes provides important insights more generally into what characteristics make communities innovative. Given Waterloo Region’s national and increasingly international reputation for invention and entrepreneurship in various sectors, understanding SiG@Waterloo’s new home may be particularly revealing to those interested in social innovation.

"The purpose of this story, then, is threefold. From SiG’s perspective, it is an attempt to get to know its neighbours and to acquaint its neighbours with this institute concerned with social innovation; it is also an investigation of how social innovation operates at a community level. Additionally, and rather inadvertently, it is my own story; that of a young, educated, rather creative and quite socially aware newcomer to Waterloo."

In the end, this last perspective has come to shape the story. I set out to get to know this community for SiG through a series of interviews with people involved with and committed to social innovation. With each interview, I became better acquainted with the people and places that make up this community, and in turn, with my own place within it. I have chosen to convey my findings in a narrative that invites you to listen in on my conversations and to share in my own process of exploration and understanding. I recognize that I can only barely begin to fully understand the history and culture of this region. I am new here, having little familiarity but also very few expectations. However, I came to believe that this “newness” grants me a fresh and valuable perspective. Moreover, it puts me in a similar position to so many others, people like me who have recently arrived in this region and are trying to make a home here.

So, in June of 2008, armed with the two refrains that this community associates with itself—“we are a community of firsts”, and “we are a big small town”— I began a journey. Looking back on this experience, I feel excited and ready to share my story with you. I hope you enjoy it! And I hope that this new story about this community can offer to you some measure of the insights that it has given to me.

Click here to read the next post in the 'Notes of a Newcomer' Blog Series

If you are interested in obtaining a hardcopy of the book, please contact the SiG office at 1-519-888-4567, Ext. 32525 or info@sig.uwaterloo.ca

FINAL - Notes of a Newcomer.pdf