Wednesday, July 18, 2012
“The Good” of Community
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
If Atangard were a garden: all who have and still do live here, as well as those who are a part of our essential extended family, began as little seeds and have grown like the trees, upwards and onwards. Momentarily some have reached greater heights, while others have struggled to bloom. But just like any other ecosystem, we grow together. And just as a garden does, this community has grown with time and changed with the seasons. Yet still together we yearn for the warmth of the sun, reaching out for life and comfort. And as we stretch out our roots, we begin filling our veins with the nutrients of a home. For some residents our community might be more of a social undertaking and for others a personal endeavour. But I believe we all have the potential to make it both and everything in between.
The question of what sets this place apart from other communities has always been asked. Part of the answer, I believe, can be found in what connects us. We have our traditions, rituals, and expectations - eating together probably being the most obvious. But what truly binds us, regardless of how much or how little we may actually know of one another, is the love we share. That we can recognize the good in everyone. Though it may be unseen at times, it is a love which transcends these old walls and creates a maze of bridges we are all free to cross. The bridges are built on the fact that we cherish and care about each other, even if at times just through our own silent thoughts and prayers. Sometimes, the depth of our words and actions may not always run as deep as our intentions. Yet honour exists in our ability to love one another, which gifts us the opportunity to grow in this place. Though this home of ours stands as a unique model to the outside, many find themselves not recognizing any difference after a time spent here.
By living in close quarters with one another, I have learned that within all the inspiration, conflict and instances which occur, we have the ability to partake in a healing process. That by living in this particular community, the lasting changes we endure as individuals allow us to flourish in the world we join hereafter. We are all products of our experiences: the millions of moments, thoughts and conversations we have make us who we are. We all impact one another more than we could really realize or fully understand. This experience has significantly made my life better... made me better. Though I am not always able to understand or express my love, or my keen admiration, I am overwhelmed by it always. I count myself blessed and honoured to be among such inspiring and remarkable people. Living together is an experience that demands each one of us to be challenged and forgiving. It also enables us to share in the intricacies, complexities and profound depths of our human existence with others.
The only regret has been my own inability to cross over some of these bridges. You could say that I have a fear of heights. While I’ve suffered in wondering how to love those who surround me better and deeper, I’ve simultaneously failed to yet fully accept the love and acceptance that has been present the entire time. Sometimes openness can be a matter of pealing skin off the heart. Old wounds, however, make for many thick layers which take longer to uncover. I fear there is no real way I can express my gratitude for the forgiveness, patience and understanding of where I lack and fall behind.
For me Directorship has been a journey wrapped in humility. In fact, probably most of my experience here has been that of humility. Being the weed I am at times, I take great pleasure in the beauty that I am surrounded by in this garden. Despite some frustration evoked by personal challenges, along with some trying moments during Director Meetings, it has always been striking to witness the creativity, care and endurance put forth in making this place work. I love and admire everyone here so deeply. I only hope that I can do half of what I see and feel others doing for this place, Directors and Residents.
Lia
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
Change is in the air




Summer is coming, maybe that's a little optimistic. Let's just say that winter is coming to an end. Thursday, December 29, 2011
Christmas at the Atangard







Friday, October 21, 2011
Cascade Article
Nick Ubel from the Cascade wrote an article on affordable housing. Click here to view the whole thing.
In Abbotsford, an inspired group of young people are banding together to make the most of the housing crisis.
At 10:08 on a brisk, autumn morning, I ring the buzzer at the street-level entrance to the Fraser Valley Inn. The aged redbrick building sits on the main drag of old downtown Abbotsford, a remnant of a bygone era, seemingly immune to the rigors of gentrification. On its north face, the gaudy red and white marquee of the Air Fare Lounge towers over the corner of Essendene and West Railway, while on the east side, there is an ancient and crowded liquor store. Among the building’s other lease-holders are New Passage to India – a cozy little restaurant specializing in traditional Indian cuisine – and upstairs: the Atangard Community Project.
A few moments later, I am ushered inside by one of the project’s directors, Sophie Suderman, who leads me past a rickety stand-up piano and up the stairs. The 18-room single and double occupancy housing project takes up much of the Fraser Valley Inn’s second floor. Each apartment in the Atangard is between 150 and 300 square feet, not including individual bathrooms, one of the conveniences of renovating an old hotel. Indie rock and the dizzying pitch of at least five voices laughing and talking excitedly over each other issues from the kitchen. Sophie takes me on a tour through the two guest rooms, four common rooms, and a bike storage locker that is so full it overflows into the laundry room. A fresh coat of paint covers the uneven surface of the walls and a mishmash of art and photography lines the halls. In another life, the Fraser Valley Inn was a run-down one-star SRO until it was shut down by the city in 2005 because of the social problems it created. The Atangard group has since renovated, pulling up the old carpet to reveal a beautifully-aged plywood floor and stocking the common rooms with thrift store furniture, old pub chairs, bright paint and new kitchen appliances. It still feels a bit musty, but clean and lived-in. “It’s really what you make of it,” Sophie tells me. For the 25 young people who live there, it’s a home.
Since 2009, the Atangard has provided affordable housing in a community setting for students and working people between the ages of 19 and 35. Sophie tells me that she first started working on the project over four years ago in response to what she saw as a great need for reasonably priced, community-based living for this neglected demographic.
“Our society is so driven to achieve and relationships fall to the side,” she says. “A situation like this meets both the relational needs as well as the need for affordability.”
She explains that it can be difficult for young people to split the rent in other community living arrangements because of the instability of this age group. If one roommate decides to move out, everyone else is caught in the lurch. The Atangard Community Project Society manages tenant-lease agreements and could absorb the cost of an empty room for a month if need be. So far, this has not been a problem thanks to a steady waitlist of interested tenants. Sophie told me that this demand has prompted discussions about how to create a similar arrangement elsewhere.
Passing by the communal dining area, I am invited by a few tenants to join them for pancakes and coffee. Everyone is in good spirits, decked out in sweatpants and t-shirts. A few laptops are open and everyone seems to linger around the table long after they finish their breakfast. Mark, who is sitting across from me, is tending to a Shirley Temple that he drinks out of a jam jar. “Every time I see him, he has one,” Emily tells me. The scene speaks volumes about the character of this community. It’s like a patchwork quilt: warm, tightly stitched together and possessed of a certain ramshackle charm. I ask my tablemates what it’s like to live at Atangard.
“Practically speaking, it’s very easy to live cheaply, simply here in this space because we have a lot of other things that are not included in a normal person’s rent,” Chad says. For instance, each tenant is expected to cook dinner once or twice a month for the entire group. That way, they can save money by buying ingredients in larger quantities and spend less time worrying about making a healthy meal. Some of Atangard’s other projects include an auto pool and a community garden.
Although there are many benefits provided by community living, things are far from perfect.
“It’s important to realize it’s not a utopia,” Chad says. “We’re talking in very idealist ways, when in reality this is something we’re striving to achieve.”
Yet Atangard does help fill a significant gap in today’s housing market. It acts as a reprieve for young people struggling to find a decent place to hang their hat. And when I ask Adam where he would be if not Atangard, he tells me bluntly: “probably a shitty basement suite for a couple hundred dollars more.”
shareshareshareshareshare
Monday, September 26, 2011
times are changing
Sunday, July 3, 2011
Shooter-Scare








