Building Dignity for All: The Foundation for All Programs
This may come as a surprise to some. After all, Finland ranks high in global well-being indices, and Helsinki is held up as a model city. But as I learned during our Healthy Cities study tour, even the most functional societies still grapple with hardship. The difference is how they respond. In Finland, food insecurity exists - but people do not go hungry. That is because where official government reach ends, community action begins. Gaps are not ignored. They are filled by networks of mutual aid: local volunteers, faith-rooted service groups, and food rescue organizations working side-by-side with the city. The city does not hinder beyond its own work. The city facilitates and sometimes coordinates.
In earlier articles on the Finnish experience, we explored the sources of new solutions: people with lived experience, co-design as the method of program development, and the role of government as a servant rather than overseer. Now we turn to something even more fundamental: the quality in the programs we bring to those we aim to help. That quality is dignity.
Dignity, in its deepest form, means recognizing the inherent value of every person, regardless of status, income, or circumstance. It means ensuring people have what they need to survive without having to beg for it. It means creating systems where everyone can meet their basic needs without shame, exclusion, or fear. It also means respecting people's agency - their right to make choices about how and when they access support. Programs must be built to offer options. Too often, service providers, even with the best of intentions, can inadvertently strip away dignity by treating people as passive recipients instead of as capable individuals. True dignity means support that empowers, that listens, that accommodates and responds.
And that belief starts at the street level.
In Helsinki, small-scale initiatives like soup kitchens in church basements, donated grocery distribution programs, community fridges, even pay-what-you-can cafés, all play a critical role in ensuring no one falls through the cracks. Many of these are citizen-led. Some are city-supported, some are linked with city coordination. Others simply operate because a group of neighbours said: "We can help." One that we studied involved a staffed park and playground that offered food at lunchtime to anyone in the neighbourhood during summer – no questions asked. The initiative was designed by the people and facilitated by Helsinki city staff – its purpose was to make sure that children and their families do not go hungry during summer vacation when schools and their meal programs are closed. Their biggest problem was anticipating daily demand and making sure surplus food could be rescued and sent to where it was needed most.
That mindset (of co-ownership, co-design, and servant leadership) is what makes the Helsinki models resilient and effective when all put together. Where one may not go far enough, a social entrepreneur is supported when they innovate to pick up the slack or fill a gap. Government doesn't try to do everything. It does what it needs to do. It listens. It supports. It gets out of the way when needed. And most of all, it treats people in need not as problems to manage, but as fellow citizens with equal worth.
Kingston has many organizational and citizen-led programs that embody this philosophy. Two outstanding examples which I have spent some time watching, observing, and interviewing patrons are Partners in Mission Food bank and the grass roots Feed the People group.
At their new location at 4 Harvey Street, while interviewing a patron for this series I had a chance to see how Partners in Mission Food Bank has embraced a grocery-store style model, allowing patrons to choose the foods that matter most to them. This shift toward client choice represents a profound increase in dignity. It empowers individuals to make decisions based on their own needs and preferences rather than passively accepting pre-selected goods. The food bank's commitment to treating people with respect is also reflected in their volunteer ethos and strong focus on community partnerships. They don't just hand out food; they build relationships, support long-term food security, and provide a respectful, welcoming environment. As their website states, their mission is not just to alleviate hunger, but to "nourish hope." Nourishing hope is building dignity in action.
Another nourisher of hope is Feed the People. A grassroots initiative that has quietly fed people with dignity. For over 7 years, this volunteer-run group has shown up daily in and around Belle Park with real home-cooked meals, clean water, and personal care. Without formal official recognition, without government support and serving people without judgment and in dignity.
It's their volunteers (in combination with others such as Threads of Hope) who have been purchasing and hauling in 50 four-litre jugs of drinking water every single day, ensuring encampment residents stay hydrated - especially during heatwaves. That same water supply helped contain a recent fire at Belle Park, thanks to the presence and quick action of residents. Their meals have kept people from slipping into hunger-driven desperation saving many from having to resort to unsafe or illegal survival measures just to eat.
Make no mistake: Feed the People is more than just a service; It's a lifeline. That was the verdict of every single person I interviewed over several weeks - unanimous, uncoached, and deeply felt.
Michelle Schwarz, who leads the group, is the kind of grassroots leader cities write policies about but rarely support in practice. She has done more to reduce harm, restore dignity, and rebuild lives at Belle Park than any sanctioned agency I've studied. And she's done it with nothing but volunteers, persistence, and a commitment to serve. Day after day, in all weather and without basic supports like a permanent shelter, sanitation, or even formal recognition, Michelle and her team offer hot meals, warm hands, human connection, and accountability without the bureaucracy.
Her model does more than just feed the hungry: it dignifies them. It listens to names, remembers faces, and gives people a reason to try again. In every way, Michelle embodies the values at the core of our new Dignified Housing Strategy: entrepreneurial, relational, community-led, and radically practical. She has created safety where there was danger, stability where there was chaos, and belonging where there was abandonment. The truth is: she is already delivering the public good the City talks about.
I have already written about the power of co-design - where residents help shape solutions. We have looked at grassroots entrepreneurialism - where the best ideas come from lived experience. And we have seen servant leadership - where government enables rather than controls. These are the core concepts in our new Dignified Housing Strategy.
Access to food is not separate from housing - it is part of what makes housing dignified. If you can afford rent but can't afford to eat, you are not truly housed with dignity. Programs that treat food and shelter as disconnected needs fail to grasp what real stability requires.
That's why Councillor Conny Glenn has pushed for Kingston to become a hub for vertical farming - so we can grow enough to feed ourselves here, locally, and provide for ourselves in dignity. It's innovation in action. It's about independence, resilience, and the right of every resident to eat without shame.
This is why food security must be central to any serious housing strategy, especially one rooted in dignity. Without reliable, culturally appropriate, nourishing food, all other supports start to crumble. Dignity cannot be patched together through isolated programs. Dignity it must be designed into the entire system.
Councillor Glenn's Dignified Housing Strategy is built on that understanding. It connects housing, food, trust, and care as a living whole. What Feed the People models on the ground, and what Michelle Schwarz delivers every day, is exactly the kind of thinking Kingston must elevate and support.
Dignity is the quiet foundation beneath every program that truly works. Dignity is the element that allows people not just to survive, but to thrive and feel truly human.
Rather than settle for systems that merely keep people afloat, we can begin to design ones that restore agency, foster hope, and build real community. From the streets to permanent housing dignity is essential to wellbeing and success of programs. Being housed also means being nourished, respected, and included in community.
The pieces of such a system are already emerging across Kingston - from vertical farming to grassroots food networks to new models of co-operative housing support. What's needed now is alignment: a shared commitment to weave dignity through it all. That's the spirit behind Councillor Glenn's Dignified Housing Strategy - and the reason it deserves not just attention, but integration into everything we do.