In search of Nimmathi for social sustainability? Imagining, building, and negotiating spaces of peace in Toronto's diverse neighbourhoods.

Basu, Ranu

Abstract

How to sustain spaces of peace and non-violence is a central concern of many refugee and immigrant groups arriving in their adopted homelands. Because these groups may have fled war-torn countries; political oppression; or economic, social or cultural hardships, the sustenance of community cohesion, everyday living, and the negotiation of life itself are paramount. The role of public spaces and institutions in host societies builds on the notion of nimmathi, the Tamil term for "peace." In order to understand marginalized groups' perceptions of public spaces and institutions, and the ways in which these perceptions diverge from mainstream uses and expectations, this paper explores the everyday practices, friendships and relationships, and barriers and struggles faced by new immigrant and refugee communities. The communities we are working with are predominantly new immigrants and refugees of South Asian, African, Caribbean, and Latin American origin, and their service providers. Of particular interest are the strategies and tactics that marginalized groups resort to, to redefine the meanings and uses of various kinds of public spaces. Building on census data gathered for neighbourhoods across the city of Toronto, we present some focus group results that offer a particularly powerful and critical perspective on the way spaces are defined and imagined. Community participants' knowledge and use of the city was highly localized, with service agencies providing an essential anchor and rootedness to associational relationships and ties to the city. Access and mobility were repeatedly raised by participants as key factors influencing choices of where it was sale and comfortable to go. Community members use available resources to counter the isolation and exclusion they feel, but their access and mobility are nevertheless affected by insufficient built infrastructure (e.g., public transit, facilities) and by personal discomfort and social boundaries. The knowledge provided by participants has led us to rethink the nature of the policy recommendations that would address these issues of access and mobility. Specifically, we need to reconsider the role of personal and emotional connections in underpinning successful networks (such as by establishing trust), and the community mobilization necessary to create sustainable and socially just public spaces--towards what communities envision as a City of Nimmathi.

Keywords: social sustainability, peace, urban diversity, public space

Resume

Comment maintenir des espaces de paix et de non-violence est une preoccupation centrale pour nombreux refugies et immigrants arrivant dans leur pays d'adoption. Parce que ces groupes peuvent avoir fui les ravages de la guerre, l'oppression politique, ou des difficultes economiques, sociales ou culturelles, la subsistance de la cohesion de la communaute, la vie quotidienne, et la negociation de la vie elle-meme sont primordiales. Le role des espaces publics et des institutions dans les societes d'accueil s'appuie sur la notion de / nimmathi, / le terme tamoul pour <<paix>>. Afin de comprendre les perceptions des espaces publics et des institutions par les groupes marginalises, et les facons dont ces perceptions divergent des usages traditionnels et des attentes, cet article explore les pratiques quotidiennes, les amities et les relations, et les obstacles et les luttes pour les nouvelles communautes d'immigrants et de refugies. Les communautes avec lesquelles nous travaillons sont principalement les nouveaux immigrants et les refugies de l'Asie du Sud, d'Afrique, des Cara'ibes et d'Amerique latine dbrigine, et leurs prestataires de services. Les strategies et les tactiques que les groupes marginalises ont recours afin de redefinir les significations et les usages de differents types d'espaces publics sont d'interet particulier. S'appuyant sur des donnees de recensement recueillies pour les quartiers a travers la ville de Toronto, nous presentons quelques resultats des groupes consultes offrant une perspective particulierement puissante et critique sur la facon dont les espaces sont definis et imagines. La connaissance des participants communautaires et l'utilisation de la ville etaient tres localisees, avec les organismes de services fournissant un point d'ancrage essentiel et l'enracinement des relations associatives et les liens avec la ville. Acces et mobilite ont ete soulevees a main tes reprises par les participants comme des facteurs cles qui influencent les choix de l'endroit oU ils se sentaient securitaires et confortables. Membres de la communaute utilisent les ressources disponibles pour lutter contre l'isolement et l'exclusion qu'ils ressentent, mais leur acces et la mobilite sont neanmoins affectes par les infrastructures insuffisantes (par exemple, le transport en commun, installations) et par une gene personnelle et les frontieres sociales. Les connaissances des participants nous a conduit a repenser la nature des recommandations qui pourraient repondre a ces questions d'acces et de mobilite. Plus precisement, nous avons besoin de reconsiderer le role des liens personnels et affectifs dans le soutien des reseaux (par exemple en etablissant un climat de confiance), et la mobilisation de la communaute necessaire a la creation d'espaces publics durables et socialement justes--vers ce que les collectivites envisagent comme une ville de Nimmathi.

Mots cles: durabilite sociale, paix, diversite urbaine, espace public

Introduction: In Search of Nimmathi

"Awakening ourselves to the real world of power relations is awakening ourselves to a world of endemic struggle" (Gordon 2000, xx)

Drawing on Foucault, Gordon argues that the history of power is also a memory of struggles, and a reawakening to refusals and new struggles. He elaborates on Foucault's "hypothesis of war" based on an understanding that "politics can be regarded as war continued by other means" (xxi). Through this explication, Gordon (2000) genealogically traces what he calls the "limitations and immense dangers of that style of thought through its implications for the history of revolutionary class warfare and state racism" (xxii). Within this framework, the doctrine of economic neoliberalism is a central tenet with guiding principles on governing populations through the logic of markets and capitalist rights. Yet the rights of capital appear in direct opposition to the discourse of human rights. In recent years, the rise of neoliberalism and economic insecurity has increasingly affected recent immigrants, forced migrants, and refugee populations through the retrenchment of the welfare state, political apathy, xenophobia towards newcomers, and a residual resource base under continual threat and surveillance. The touted "hospitality model" under such political regimes has increasingly become fractured and debilitating, impinging more so on the rights of vulnerable communities. Internationally agreed upon mandates on human rights, on the other hand, point to states' critical obligation and duty to grant meaningful protection to refugees, as outlined in the United Nations Convention relating to the Status of Refugees of 1951. Hathaway and Dent (1995) note that the convention mandates protection on a number of civil and socio-economic rights that span, as they describe it, the "spectrum from freedoms of association, movement, and religion to rights of access to key social institutions, including employment, education, and social assistance" (1). Central to these forms of rights, one can argue, is the epistemological basis for the 'Right to Peace'--a way of living and being that is free of trauma, humiliation, and pain--and its closely affiliated 'Right to the Everyday'--which fosters community, respect, and security within the materialities of everyday living. The aim of this paper is to understand how the production of social sustainability through the essence and struggles for these very basic rights is critical for city building. A second aim is to investigate how the discourse of these multiple rights--from neoliberal hegemonic rights to human rights--is tangentially and perpetually in conflict often reflected in the socio-spatial dynamics of the city.

How to sustain spaces of peace and non-violence is a central concern of many refugee and immigrant groups arriving in their adopted homelands. For refugees, there are the additional realities of dealing with posttraumatic stress and fear, dealing with the long bureaucratic process to ensure residency in Canada, frequent relocations, and financial difficulties (James and Burnaby 2003). Because these groups may have fled war-torn countries; political oppression; or economic, social or cultural hardships, the sustenance of community cohesion, everyday living, and the negotiation of life itself are paramount. In his essay "Reflections on Exile" Said (1990) articulates the experience of exile as a condition of terminal loss. He notes that "[e]xile is strangely compelling to think about but terrible to experience" as the "achievements of exile are permanently undermined by the loss of something left behind forever" (357). In this paper, the role of public spaces and institutions in host societies builds on the notion of nimmathi, the Tamil term denoting "peace"--this heuristic device, brought forward to us by our research participants, was a sober articulation that resonated deeply with the premise of the project and was a novel way for us to understand social sustainability in cities. Harvey (2008) notes that "[t]he right to the city is far more than the individual liberty to access urban resources: it is a right to change ourselves by changing the city" (23)--in this case, the right to claim a City of Nimmathi.

In order to understand marginalized groups' perceptions of public spaces and institutions, and the ways in which these perceptions diverge from mainstream uses and expectations, this paper explores the everyday practices, friendships and relationships, and barriers and struggles faced by new immigrant and refugee communities. The communities we are working with are predominantly new immigrants and refugees of South Asian, African, Caribbean, and Latin American origin, and their service providers. Of particular interest are the strategies and tactics that marginalized groups resort to, to redefine the meanings and uses of various kinds of public spaces. The paper is structured as follows: After a discussion of social sustainability through spaces of nimmathi, the methodological section presents the direction of empirical inquiry--from an abstract space (as a space that is conceptually understood and scientifically fragmented through a particular stratified and mapped morphology) to further investigating its actual lived space (a space that is experienced and imagined through the everyday lived realities). To gain a macro perspective of the social spatial layout/morphology of the city, census data is mapped and analyzed using geographic information systems (GIS) for neighbourhoods across the city of Toronto. On a more micro and qualitative level, the results of the focus groups that were conducted in three city neighbourhoods are discussed. The results offer a particularly powerful and critical perspective, first in the way public spaces are defined and imagined, and subsequently on the wider significance of social sustainability in diverse cities.

Social Sustainability Through Spaces of Nimmathi

Social Sustainability and Neoliberalism

Over the past few years, discussions of sustainability have acknowledged its multifaceted nature. The discourse has evolved based primarily on environmental and economic sustainability to include recognition of the importance of the social and the cultural in its broader definition. This formalized understanding of the four pillars of sustainability--somewhat acknowledged by cities across the globe--however lacks a more critical dimension in the way sustainability is operationalized. Davidson (2009) notes that a clear concept of sustainability is missing and that the normative goals of each pillar, particularly in the case of social sustainability (and one could similarly add cultural sustainability), are left undefined. Part of the problem, he argues, is the unclear relationship to wider urban policy issues and urban social relations. In diverse communities and places where there are many newcomers and migrant workers living on the margins of cities, social sustainability, at least ideally and ethically, would suggest an inclusive and conflict-free city; a physically and economically accessible city; and a culturally and politically engaged city, with equitable access to public services and institutional support. The role of public spaces and public institutions is central to such understandings of social sustainability, as they provide the common space for chance encounters and social relations in cities. Lefebvre (1991) elucidates that such forms of social space involve "assembly, encounter and simultaneity" (149). In Merrifield's (1996) analysis of the relations between the city and its public spaces, he has argued that "public space lay at the centre of the polis--the city-state--in which the ideal of a democratic polity constructed around citizenship prevailed" (57). Staeheli, Mitchell, and Nagel (2009) similarly describe the importance of these spaces where the "public is constituted" and where the "public interest" is found. As sites of chance encounters and casual meetings, public spaces allow for diverse publics to mingle and infinite democratic possibilities to be tested--notwithstanding power relations that may impede this democratic possibility.

Returning to the concept of the Right to Peace through the Right to the Everyday--or what we can now conceptually conflate as simply the Right to Nimmathi--public spaces and institutions provide an opportune setting to explore how state practices unfold especially when we look at the discursive and material practices of living and being in a city. Further, "places of belonging" can be carved out from these spaces in the way that they are imagined and used or even politically claimed; while at the other end of the spectrum, "places of ostracization" can be made exclusionary based on domination, discomfort and control. The role of public spaces and institutions is thus varied and complex, but in its variety and complexity it provides insight into the struggles and process of nimmathi. The everyday practices in the city (i.e. eating, reading, walking, playing) are intricately woven into these hierarchical and fragmented spaces (i.e. schools, parks, civic squares) where identities are performed and understood, and class relations reproduced, depending on the inclusionary or exclusionary slippages of the spaces so affirmed. As Harvey (2008) notes in his essay "The Right to the City," "The freedom to make and remake our cities and ourselves is, I want to argue, one of the most precious yet most neglected of our human rights" (23).

Conceptualizing social sustainability in an era of neoliberal urbanism poses particular challenges. The neoliberal discourse of accountability, efficiency, and marketability, with an increased reliance on community-responsibilization and audit cultures, promotes an individualized, self-reliant, and competitive subjectivity. The social becomes relegated to the margins of policy discussion; if it is indeed brought forward by a softer rollout of the neoliberal state, it emerges at the minimum level needed to project an image of a caring, progressive state. In Ontario, during the past decade or so, severe clawbacks to the Fordist Keynesian welfare state have affected the provision and quality of public services--including public health care, education, transit, affordable housing, and settlement services. Unemployment has increased considerably, as has the state of precarious work conditions for migrant workers. Moreover, the insecurity in immigration and in the refugee determination process has furthered their status as outcast members. The plight of outcast members and exiles, as Said (1991) hauntingly reminds us, "is the unhealable rift forced between a human being and a native place, between the self and its true home: its essential sadness can never be surmounted" (357).

The Vulnerability of Refugeeness and the Need for Nimmathi

Here it might be worth elucidating a few points on the Canadian refugee determination process to provide a contextual understanding of the long and arduous process involved in getting status. Individuals may seek refugee protection in a country outside of their country of nationality or habitual residenCe if they are unable or unwilling, for reason of fear, to return to their home country. The refugee determination process must establish that there is a well-founded fear of persecution for reasons of race, religion, nationality, membership in a particular social group, or political opinion. Refugee claimants may receive financial assistance if they fall within one of several categories: overseas sponsorship, which includes government-assisted refugees (financially supported for one year); privately sponsored refugees (financially supported by sponsors for one year); or a joint assisted sponsorship (jointly sponsored, and can last over a year). However, inland claimants as well as non-status and undocumented workers are not financially supported by government or other agencies, and they number nearly 200,000 migrants a year. These are the most vulnerable group, as their status, particularly in a neoliberal environment, remains suspended and unpredictable, while the support and employment base remains irregular and precarious. Thus, the ruptures and "double violence" that they experience--first from the traumatic events in their country of origin, and then from the settling into and adapting to their host society--imply a difficult psychological, emotional, and material struggle at the everyday level. Said (1991) notes, "The pathos of exile is in the loss of contact with the solidity and the satisfaction of earth: homecoming is out of the question" (361). Understanding practices of social sustainability within these many challenges is thus a complicated process. The meaning of public space becomes increasingly complex and subject to considerable political and public policy debate (Staeheli, Mitchell, and Nagel 2009) if it is to be understood comprehensively and within the framework of nimmathi.

Right to Nimmathi

Our exploration with nimmathi or the concept of peace as a foundational precept of social sustainability is one that needs much further theoretical development that is beyond the scope of this paper. Page (2004) observes (particularly with an interest in education) that although there has been an increasing emphasis on "peace as a human right" the philosophical foundations of peace have been ignored (4). Page explores five basic foundations in ethics, to link ethics with peace education: virtue, consequentialism, aesthetics, conservative politics, and care. And he argues that these need to be considered through an integrative approach to encourage a culture of peace. Of relevance to our discussion are the arguments put forward within virtue ethics of the "desire to empower the individual at a time when some social systems appear to dictate that the individual is of no significance" and the "perceived loss of a public sense of social civility" (5). "We will return to these ideas later in the empirical section of this paper.

In The Ways of Peace: A Philosophy of Peace as Action, Cox (1986) elaborates on the historical and philosophical complexity of this concept. Cox notes, "Peace is sometimes employed as a vague composite idea, as a kind of literary theme that resonates deeply without ever achieving neat clarity" (9). He argues that traditional concepts of peace employ the notion of an absence of war, or of personal, physical, and mental peace. Another definition, which he finds more evocative, is when people speak of peace "as a state distinguished by harmony or unity or tranquility or concord ..." (11). Cox argues, however, for a third way of understanding peace: peace as an activity of cultivating the process of agreeing "not a state of tranquility we are trying to reach, but a process in which we can engage" (12). Cox explains it more clearly when he distinguishes between "negative" and "positive" peace: "It is a difference between peace as a mere absence of war and peace as this plus an absence of systematic oppression and 'structural violence" and where "Peace is the rule of just law" (16). Furthering Pages argument (2004), "peace, or the practice of peaceful relationships," (8) we can concur is thus a concept and practice that is constantly in a state of flux. A City of Nimmathi is based on associational relationships, social ties, and freedom from oppression in its various and covert manifestations and as Said (1994) notes, "much of the exiles life is taken up with compensating for disorienting loss by creating a new world to rule" (363).

City of Toronto: Whose City?

Marcuse (2009) in his essay exploring critical urban theory and the right to the city begins his argument by stating that before we can proceed with any form of articulation that we need to question--'whose right is it about, what right is it, and to what city'? So far we have argued that the Right to Nimmathi, particularly for vulnerable migrants and refugees, is a precept of social sustainability that includes the right to peace through the right to the everyday in a city. Marcuse proposes a three step process in response to these queries: 'exposing, proposing and politicizing'--that would lead to enduring social change. So how is the City of Toronto performing in these regards?

The City of Toronto prides itself on being a "City of Diversity" yet the social polarization within the city is spatially uneven and is clearly reflected in the neighbourhood profiles. Canadian cities, including Toronto, have been particularly hard hit by the neoliberalization of public amenities and the restructuring of cities, which have involved the downloading of responsibility and the adoption of fiscally conservative measures. According to the 2006 Census, there were 2.5 million people living in Toronto, of whom 10.8 percent were recent immigrant populations and 46.9 percent were visible minorities. The city's unemployment rate was 7.6 percent, and the median household income stood at over $52,000. The 2006 Transportation survey indicates that 30 percent of the population used transit on a regular basis to get to and from work. A recent profile of low income by the City of Toronto suggests a growing gap between the rich and poor (City of Toronto; Social Development, Finance and Administration; Social Policy, Analysis and Research [2010] 2011). This diversity, the study notes, "is due in great part to [Toronto's] role as a prime destination for newcomers to Canada, its large stock of social and rental housing, the availability of economic opportunity and a developed network of social infrastructure to support individuals and communities" (3).

Within the broader neoliberal context and taking into account Toronto's rich diversity, the public sphere, both in form and function, becomes a space of negotiation, contestation, and imagination for the city and its citizenry. For recent immigrants, forced migrants, and refugee families, this becomes a further challenge. What then does it mean for a marginal populace to negotiate the everydayness in the city? What are the various challenges and opportunities that they face? What are their imaginations and longings, within a city of multiple publics? How do they cope with their many losses, pain, and memories? How do their ideas of public space and social sustainability align with and differ from the ideas popularized in the media or disseminated in academic circles? What, ultimately, constitutes a City of Nimmathi?

Methodological Directions: From Abstract Space (Mapping Spaces of Vulnerability) to Lived Space (Discussing the Everyday)

In this paper, a two-stage approach was used to examine spaces of social sustainability. First, a mapping exercise explored the spaces of vulnerability in the City of Toronto. This involved mapping a number of vulnerable-population indices from Statistics Canada's 2001 Census database (see Table 1). Based on a combination of factors and outcomes from these maps, three city neighbourhoods were identified for conducting focus groups and listening to voices from the community (see selected maps in Figure 1). The neighbourhoods selected included communities with high immigrant and visible minority populations and low income areas and were serviced by particular agencies that assisted us with the focus groups that followed (see below). Borrowing from Lefebvre (1991), the intent was to gauge and understand the broader framings of the spatial production of social sustainability by combining the "abstract spaces" garnered from census information with the "lived realities" of dispersed and vulnerable neighbourhoods across the city. As Lefebvre notes, abstract space--such as the mapped space--is a highly complex, instrumental space. He further observes, "An apparent subject, an impersonal pseudo-subject, the abstract 'one' of modern social space, and--hidden within it, concealed by its illusory transparency--is the real 'subject,' namely state (political) power" (51). Hence the focus-group discussions illuminate the lived reality of the spaces explored.

The selected neighbourhoods in Toronto include two post-war suburban neighbourhoods (Jane and Finch in North York, and Eglinton and Kennedy in Scarborough) and a downtown inner-city neighbourhood. The post-war suburbs provide evidence of the growing social polarization and marginalization in these parts of the city. The focus groups were completed during the summer of 2008 and were conducted alongside two of the project's co-investigators (1). We were hosted by community agencies based in these neighbourhoods: Doorsteps Neighbourhood Services (Doorsteps) in North York, and the Canadian Centre for Victims of Torture (CCVT) in Scarborough and in downtown Toronto. These community agencies organized the focus groups for us: Doorsteps organized a focus group made up of residents from the Jane and Finch neighbourhood; CCVT's Scarborough location organized a focus group comprising its clients; while CCVT in downtown Toronto organized a focus group comprising its service providers. The service providers at the downtown location were atone time or the other users (or clients) of the organization and provided us with perspectives on both their own experiences and the experiences of their past and present clients. Given the purpose of the broader project--to explore the experiences and perceptions of public spaces and institutions, the extent to which these public spaces and institutions were meeting the needs of diverse communities, and the changes needed to make public spaces and institutions more accessible to the entire array of local communities--the themes of the focus groups (moderated by three co-investigators of the project) thus revolved around diversity, public-space usage, barriers and obstacles to accessing public spaces and institutions, and participants' suggestions for change.

Case Study I: Post-war Inner-City Suburb, North York, City of Toronto

Doorsteps Neighbourhood Services, Jane and Finch Neighbourhood

Doorsteps Neighbourhood Services, located in the Jane and Finch community, serves a large immigrant and refugee community. In the two adjacent wards served by this community centre, approximately 12-15 percent of the population are recent immigrants, and 63-74 percent are visible minorities. The unemployment rate is high in these wards, ranging 8.7-10.7 percent, compared to 7.6 percent for the city as a whole. (City of Toronto, 2001).

Fifteen members attended the focus groups, of which two were men. They were primarily from South Asia, Carribean, Africa and Latin American countries and included a range of ages (from young mothers to older more senior women). Translators (including myself) were able to communicate with those who spoke little to no English. During the focus groups, the residents highlighted a number of themes related to their understandings of social sustainability, diversity, and public space. The everydayness of their lived experience was largely negated by the representational perceptions of their neighbourhoods. They noted that the general perceptions and identity of their neighbourhood, "Jane and Finch," have revolved around the negative portrayal by the media and public, which has led to further stigmatization, abandonment and neglect. Political apathy, particularly by the local politicians, has led to further neglect and the reproduction of these representational perceptions. The residents believed their interests were being ignored and they had no awareness of how to access political capital. Yet they had moved into these neighbourhoods with the best of intentions based on the affordability of the housing and despite dwelling conditions being overcrowded and unstable.

[FIGURE 1 OMITTED]

The public spaces were inaccessible on many levels, the residents noted. Not only were the physical distances and the cost of public transit impediments, but many of the participants mentioned the social boundaries that they felt. For example one participant noted that she felt excluded at the local parent council meeting which only discussed fundraising activities. Another felt harassment at the mall and so decided to stay at home. Many of the spaces, including parks, streets, and playgrounds, were unsafe for them and their young children: these spaces were littered with broken glass and unsafe equipment. The participants also faced overt discrimination and harassment which made them feel further unsafe and alienated. In one extreme case one older participant noted that rocks were thrown at her at the local park (she also wore the hijab). They rarely ventured downtown due to the costs and time incurred, unless trips were more formally organized by community centres; instead, they resorted to malls and large-scale grocery stores for daily outings. Interestingly, most of the participants noted the importance of the local religious institutions--the local gurudwara, temple, or mosque--as spaces where they felt safe, unthreatened and could build community.

As a result, social relations and wider networks were difficult to build and sustain. With no extended family to offer support, residents needed and relied on friends and service providers ever more. The emotional stress was further accentuated by high unemployment and underemployment, experienced particularly by the men in the family. Gender and racial divisions led to "jealousy" and tense internal household relations. Language barriers led to further isolation among women and seniors. Many family members resorted to going back to their country of origin, leading to fractured families and further isolation. According to all the residents, community workers provided emotional and social support that they could rely on, and they relied heavily on this support.

Public institutions like schools and health care did not provide adequate support, with long waiting lists for the local daycare, overcrowded classrooms, limited public sports programs, and unsafe playgrounds. For example one participant noted the absence of programs for teenagers including sports programs and noted that the ones available were too expensive (e.g. soccer program cost $200-300) and so they stayed inside and watched TV all the time.

An absence of after-school programs, heritage languages, and community space was a constant concern felt by the residents, especially as there was not much their children could do. Further, bullying and worries about safety were additional impediments. The focus group participants also noted that there were insufficient doctors, long waiting lines in hospitals, and at times expensive charges for upfront care. They identified the importance of providing their community workers with more support and resources as they felt that the workers were stretched to capacity. There was an urgent need for more childcare, training programs, and English language classes, and a need for their credentials to be recognized or augmented by other relevant and employment-relevant training courses. Despite being qualified in their home countries, the residents observed their knowledge and experience being dismissed.

Case Study II: Post-war Inner-City Suburb, Scarborough, City of Toronto

Canadian Centre for Victims of Torture, Kennedy and Eglinton Neighbourhood

The Canadian Centre for Victims of Torture (CCVT), as described by its website (http://www.ccvt.org/about.html), is a non-profit, registered charitable organization founded by several Toronto doctors, lawyers, and social service professionals, many of whom were associated with Amnesty International The organization is unique in that it serves the survivors of refugee and migrant families that have experienced torture. The CCVT website describes the survivors whom the organization serves to include: people who have been subjected to severe torture or prolonged severe multiple experiences of victimization; children and adolescents subjected to torture or witnessing violence; sexually traumatized people, particularly women and children; seniors who have been subjected to various types of torture; people who have gone through traumatic exit, transit, and exile experiences.

A satellite office for the CCVT is located in the post-war suburban municipality of Scarborough, now part of the amalgamated City of Toronto. Scarborough has a high concentration of recent immigrant and refugee populations, and the ward that the CCVT office is located within has more than 15 percent recent immigrants, a high percentage of visible minorities (over 62.6 percent), and an unemployment rate of 9.4 percent (City of Toronto, 2001).

Twenty members attended the focus groups, with a few elderly men participating. Right at the beginning of our conversations the term nimmathi--which is used in the title and conceptual framing of this paper--was introduced by the community. The focus group participants--comprising largely refugee and recent immigrant populations from Sri Lanka, Somalia, India, and the Caribbean--framed their conversations, and subsequent discussions of social sustainability, around their desire for peace. They pointed out to us an embroidery piece that they had worked on and had hung for all to see: on it was "Nimmathi". This is the name they assigned to their group, and it formed the basis of our dialogue. Peace, they argued, could be achieved through their daily lives by the ordinariness of their daily interactions--such as more yoga classes to clear their minds, sewing classes, meditation, and collective gardening activities. They felt intimately involved with their service providers and the emotional support that they received from the activities they undertook together. Like the group in North York, they rarely went downtown (unless organized by the community centre) because of the time, cost, and distance, and instead relied on their local venues. Similarly, they did not interact with their local politicians. However, as one elderly couple noted to us, this was not because they were not aware of, or interested in being politically involved--they had, in fact, been politically active in Montreal before moving to Toronto. But despite their attempts at contact, the politicians had not responded. Thus political capital, despite their interest, was stunted.

Public spaces were better used in Scarborough, unlike in the case of Jane and Finch. For example, parks were actively used for dance and exercise. Libraries, community gardening, and community centres were frequented regularly. However, all the focus group members also highlighted the importance of the local mosque and temples as socially supportive and important institutions.

As with the previous case-study neighbourhood, public transit was described as being infrequent and expensive, and the participants felt that roads were not sale and that there were frequent accidents. The public institutions, such as their local schools and health care, did not offer them the support they felt they needed. For example, schools did not offer enough after-school services such as homework clubs, sports, and alternative activities. The schools were also far away, which meant long walking distances--something particularly challenging for the younger children. Parents were concerned about violence in the schools and drugs; police intimidation was particularly felt by their black youth.

The participants further noted the dearth of doctors and the need to constantly resort to walk-in clinics. They also mentioned the need for doctors to be culturally sensitive and the need for more translation services. The focus groups similarly stressed the need for more English language classes to make the settlement transition easier. In general, youth and seniors expressed different experiences with their everydayness. As with the previous case study, the religious institutions provided sites of safety and community building and much support. These were the public spaces the focus-group participants resorted to more frequently. The importance of religious sites as public spaces for groups to get together, form support networks and receive emotional support provided the ground work for sustainability in their everyday lives.

Case Study III: Inner City, City of Toronto

Canadian Centre for Victims of Torture (CCVT), Inner-City Neighbourhood

The head office for the CCVT is located in the inner city of Toronto. Since its inception, the CCVT has assisted 14,000 survivors from 136 countries. At this centre, a focus group was conducted primarily with eighteen service providers who had, over the years, gained considerable experience working with many refugee and immigrant families. Many of them had used the services of the centre before becoming service providers themselves and added this dual and longer time perspective.

Based on their experience, the service providers began the conversation underlining the importance and need for knowledge mobilization for change, and for making the silent voices heard. They felt that academics needed to be part of this knowledge mobilization process to bring forward to the broader public the inequities that existed in the system. They stressed how their advocacy work depended on the clarity of academic work--that is, it was important that academic work be written and distributed in accessible language so that it could be understood by a broader public. Moreover, they stressed the need for politicians to be aware of the many challenges faced by recent migrants and argued that governments should find solutions that produce concrete results. The service providers largely emphasized building an active form of political capital, contending that many voices were silent and left out of the larger political discourse. They questioned how subaltern communities could gain access to the corridors of power: A lot of people are left out because they cannot speak up. How do you make those voices heard? Who decides which the decisive voices are and where the power lies in the city? Where can we make our voices heard? How do you speak up? How do people access those corridors of power?

A discussion of public space and the importance of venues for groups to meet and empower themselves--whether through schools, parks, or recreation programs--were purported as potential sites to initiate, foster and sustain "corridors of power." Yet barriers included racism in school councils, fees, timing mismatch, or bureaucracy that restricted using space for communal meetings or that made access difficult. The participants observed that diversity, for bureaucrats and politicians, appeared to involve only tokenistic displays--such as "dancing or food"--any substantial recognition of diversity was absent. Discrimination around accents, language, or dress (e.g., veiling) led to further alienation from public spaces. The need was felt for more anti-racist education, including within the ethnic communities themselves.

The participants noted that diversity, according to their understanding, included not only ethnic diversity but also religious, gendered, sexual, disability, and class diversity. Thus they stressed understanding diversity in a holistic way--"seeing different needs of different people"--and recognized that because of inter-ethnic group/racial tensions, "diversity was both a strength and weakness."

A number of strategies for change were identified. For example, swimming pool schedules could include culturally sensitive programs for women, schools and community centres could allow weekend access, and university outreach programs could be offered in communities. The service providers were critically aware of the disparities in public services, such as schools in some neighbourhoods being better served than schools in others. As an example, they cited the availability of plasma TVs in Richmond Hill schools while at the same time there were cutbacks to art programs in their local schools, or field trips deemed too expensive. Accessing community programs was expensive: they noted, for instance, that the YMCA charged a fee many immigrants and refugees could not afford; or did not qualify for subsidies offered by the YMCA; and travelling to the community centre by public transit was costly. Targeted programs, such as highlighted in the Poverty by Postal Code research study, were not useful, they felt, as such programs included only selected areas.

The service providers also expressed a concern about further alienation regarding their and their client backgrounds and credentials--that is, not being recognized as doctors, teachers, engineers, etc. One outcome was institutions (including universities) that were not diverse. Economics, it was argued, was very much related to social sustainability. If new immigrants were facing discrimination in the job market, the result could be mental health problems, addiction, and other stress-related problems. Thus, with such impediments, many migrants in their opinion avoided other people and public spaces. The service providers asked us: "How are people supposed to sustain themselves?"

Conclusion: Towards a City of Nimmathi

As Matthew Sparke (2004) powerfully reminds us, "We live in urgent times in spaces defined by exploitation, brutality, anxiety, desperation, and too often too limited efforts at resistance" (777). How to sustain spaces of peace and non-violence is a central concern, in particular, of many refugee and immigrant groups arriving in their adopted homelands. Because these groups may have fled war-torn countries; political oppression; or economic, social, or cultural hardships, the sustenance of community cohesion, everyday living, and the negotiation of life itself are paramount. As Buckle and Fleming (2011) have highlighted, "Picking up the Pieces speaks to the regeneration after the devastation" (73). Regeneration, they argue, consists of rebuilding lives and reconstructing shattered assumptions of the self and the world--it is an active process, and an everyday process. Buckle and Fleming (2011, 73) further state: Picking Up the Pieces is an active process, it demands attention and ... one must engage in regeneration. This painful, exhausting process of rebuilding not only involved the examination of minor, day-to-day activities, it extended to the most profound organizing principles, values, and meaning structures ... and it continued indefinitely.

Thus a City of Nimmathi (or Peace) demands the attention and honing of "life-lived" details to allow for the regeneration process to meld into the everyday. Peace can be conceived of in different ways--including as a central, guiding path to social sustainability. Thus the role of public spaces and institutions in host societies, as brought to our attention by our focus groups, could be grounded on the notion of nimmathi. Yet the process of peace is not the absence of conflict--it is, rather, a demand for the right to live in the city as equals and free of oppression and stigmatization. In a neoliberalized city, the rights of capital do not necessarily combine well with the rights of peace as conceived of in this way--this inherent contradiction builds into city life and its material and discursive forms.

The focus-group results indicated that community participants' knowledge and use of the city was highly localized, with service agencies providing an essential anchor and rootedness to associational relationships and ties to the city. Three major barriers were consistently raised by all the participants: the equitable distribution and accessibility of public amenities; racial tensions and antagonism; and the lack of opportunity for serious political engagement in order to have their voices heard to make changes. Collectively, these barriers contributed to the further reproduction of immigrants' and refugees' marginal positions in a capitalist society (socially, economically, and politically) and consequently to the further marginalization of their everyday spaces of living and being. Within the broader context of neoliberal regimes and governance agendas, these structures seemed embedded in the form and function of the city and are discussed below.

(i) Spatial Equity and Redistributional Challenges

The built form of the city, especially for those living in the post-war neighbourhoods of Toronto, presented a number of challenges to the current groups residing in these areas. Access and mobility we.re repeatedly raised by participants as key factors influencing choices of where it was safe and comfortable to go. The built form, primarily designed for post-war suburbs and car-oriented cities, meant that travelling anywhere by either walking, cycling, or public transit was not easy. Roads were dangerous, accessing any public facility involved covering great distances, transit was expensive and infrequent, and the journeys themselves were encumbered by the threat of crime and the fear of racism. Residents rarely travelled outside of their community for these many reasons. Local public institutions--such as public parks, libraries, schools and community centres--did not provide adequate services, varied in quality, and were unevenly distributed spatially. To offset these deficiencies, the suburban communities depended largely on religious institutions (churches, mosques, temples) as meeting spaces and to build larger social networks. This was brought up in all three focus groups and alludes to the growing roles such institutions play in the social sustainability of many marginalized and racialized communities. Grocery stores and malls also provided spaces for informal interaction. Thus community members used the available resources to counter the isolation and exclusion they felt, but their access and mobility were nevertheless affected by insufficient built infrastructure and by personal discomfort and social boundaries. Multiple publics understood and used their multiple public spaces (from religious institutions to spaces of consumption--and primarily suburban) in different ways--these spaces did not necessarily converge with traditional or hegemonic understandings of public spaces (city halls or public squares--primarily inner city or downtown locations).

(ii) Racial Tensions and Antagonism

Diversity was understood to be more complicated than simply ethnic diversity: within and beyond ethnic communities, diversity included variations in mental health challenges, sexuality, class, gender, and age. Inter-ethnic tensions suggested that much more is needed to be done in the areas of antiracist education--in communities, public institutions, the media, and the political arena. Economic sustainability tied to the acceptance of credentials, work opportunities, and the ability to sustain the self and one's family made the participants acutely aware of race, class, and gendered relations, as well as the dominant structures that needed to be overcome and that were clearly evident in their own situational terrains. To combat hierarchies and dominant discourses, networks to build on resources and capabilities were needed, yet they were sorely lacking. It was only through such articulations that peaceful and harmonious coexistence could be sustained.

(iii) Barriers to Political Engagement

Finally, the importance of political sustainability, in the form of both formal and informal political involvement, was key to having all these concerns acknowledged and addressed. All levels of government had sorely neglected this area of inclusiveness--despite the rhetoric in planning and city politics of Toronto being a "City of Diversity" Since we carried out the focus groups, much has changed in Toronto (an analysis of all the changes is beyond the scope of this paper, however). In the October 2010 municipal elections, the right-wing, neoliberal Toronto councillor Rob Ford was elected as the new mayor of Toronto. His proposals for further cutbacks and privatizations of public amenities imply that neoliberal urbanism will predominate. Yet, as I write this paper, the August 2011 riots in London's marginalized suburbs suggest that cutbacks and retrenchments can go only so far--frustration, disillusionment, and resistance will force us to question our priorities and visions of society.

According to Page (2004), "[p]eace is ultimately about relationships" (10), and the culture of peace is a "multifaceted phenomenon, involving attitudes, values and behaviours and engaging a range of precepts" (11). A socially sustainable city, as determined and understood by community groups, is a city where peace is understood not just by an absence of war but as a journey towards social justice (Rinehart 1995); where there is an absence of hegemony and hierarchical relations; and where there is a sense of "productive nostalgia" in placemaking (see Blunt 2003) and the regeneration of the everyday. Collectively, these build slowly and incrementally, with conflict and struggle inherently present in any form of substantive change. Thus social sustainability is fuelled by equitable, accessible, socially just, and emotionally deep connections towards peace and stability--what communities envision and articulate as a City of Nimmathi.

Acknowledgments

Special thanks to the focus group participants from the Canadian Centre for Victims of Torture (CCVT offices in Scarborough and downtown Toronto), and Doorsteps Neighbourhood Services (in North York) for their invaluable contribution to this project. Thanks to Lei Wang, Julie Young, Vivien Leong, Matt McLean at various stages of the project for their research assistance. Very useful feedback from the external reviewers helped clarify and develop the arguments in this paper further. Finally I would like to thank the G5ers--Barbara Rahder, Liette Gilbert, Susan McGrath, Tricia Wood--for our collective journey in this project. Funding from SSHRC 410-2006-2178 is gratefully acknowledged.

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Ranu Basu

Department of Geography

York University

Notes

(1) Drs. Susan Mc Grath and Patricia Wood; and Ph.D candidate Julie Young. Table 1: Mapping of 2001 Census data Map 1 Population percentage change, 1996-2001 Map 2 Total lone-parent families by sex of parent Map 3 Total number of persons in private households--20% Map 4 Neither English nor French, total population by knowledge of official languages Map 5 Citizenship population other than Canadian Map 6 Immigrant population, 1996-2001, period of immigration (part of Figure 1) Map 7 Total visible minority population (part of Figure 1) Map 8 Total Aboriginal identity population Map 9 Unemployed, population 15 years of age and over Map 10 Without high school graduation certificate, grades 9 to 13, population 20 years and over by highest level of schooling Map 11 Median income in 2000 $--population 15 years of age and over (part of Figure 1) Map 12 Average value of dwelling $ (part of Figure 1)