A quiet transaction at Toronto City Hall has ignited a series of questions about land, funding, and the path to reconciliation. Last year, the city purchased a five-story building on Bathurst Street for $16 million. Now, it appears poised to simply give it away.
The intended recipient? A group planning an exclusive homeless shelter for Indigenous men. The deal’s complexity deepens when you consider the building was sold by the Centre for Social Innovation, an organization co-founded by a high-ranking city bureaucrat overseeing economic development and culture – Pat Tobin.
City officials insist all proper procedures were followed, including conflict-of-interest protocols. Tobin himself deferred to the city’s statement, claiming limited involvement with the Centre for Social Innovation in recent years. Yet, this deal is just one piece of a larger, largely unreported pattern of land and money flowing to organizations connected to the Aboriginal Labour Force Development Circle (ALFDC).
Since 2020, City Hall has directed $39.4 million to the ALFDC, a non-profit operating from a location two hours east of Toronto, to distribute to various groups. This substantial funding stream emerged just months before Mayor Olivia Chow met with lobbyists representing the ALFDC, raising concerns about influence and transparency.
The Native Men’s Residence, known as Na-Me-Res, is set to benefit directly from the potential land transfer. Its director, Steve Teekens, believes ownership of the Bathurst Street building would be transformative, providing a stable foundation to address the disproportionately high rates of homelessness among Indigenous men in the city.
Teekens describes his organization as a grassroots effort, driven by a desperate need. He acknowledges the situation feels precarious, questioning whether the political will truly exists to finalize the transfer. Ownership, he explains, isn’t just about shelter; it’s about building equity and unlocking future housing opportunities.
The ALFDC’s influence extends beyond individual projects. A spreadsheet obtained through a freedom-of-information request reveals a total of $66.5 million allocated to Indigenous-focused organizations since 2020. However, City Hall resisted providing a comprehensive list, claiming it doesn’t categorize funding based on Indigenous affiliation – a claim that clashes with its established Indigenous funding stream managed by the ALFDC.
The ALFDC’s rapid financial growth is striking. Receiving less than half a million dollars in 2020, its funding more than doubled each subsequent year, culminating in nearly $11.7 million in 2023, a significant portion approved following a motion by then-temporary mayor Jennifer McKelvie just days before Chow’s election.
That motion, passed without debate, paved the way for the ALFDC to oversee 20% of the city’s housing and homelessness funding. Soon after, lobbyists from StrategyCorp began actively engaging with Mayor Chow’s office, advocating for increased support and funding for Indigenous housing initiatives, with Na-Me-Res and the Native Women’s Resource Centre listed as “prospective project partners.”
The ALFDC operates from a modest facility on Tyendinaga Mohawk land, a world away from the bustling heart of Toronto. Described as a “$35- to $40-million operation run by nine people,” the organization’s executive director, Glenda Maracle, has previously expressed a preference for direct funding, citing the “hassle” of charitable registration.
While the ALFDC asserts its commitment to Indigenous-focused housing and homelessness projects, its website primarily emphasizes employment services. The organization’s role as a financial intermediary raises questions about efficiency and accountability, particularly given the city’s existing housing secretariat with its dedicated staff.
The city’s rationale for these transfers consistently invokes a “commitment to reconciliation,” acknowledging the overrepresentation of Indigenous people experiencing homelessness. Another parcel of city land, a former parking lot on Sheppard Avenue West, is slated for a shelter for Indigenous women and children, though both projects are years from completion.
The story circles back to the building on Bathurst Street, a potential lifeline for Na-Me-Res and a symbol of a complex web of relationships, funding, and political maneuvering. Whether the transfer will ultimately succeed remains uncertain, but the questions it raises about transparency, accountability, and the true meaning of reconciliation are undeniable.
A 20th-anniversary event for the Centre for Social Innovation, held a year before the city’s purchase, featured a notable guest list including Tobin, Chow, and other prominent figures. Photos show Chow even cutting the celebratory cake, highlighting the existing connections between key players in this unfolding story.
