Dunbar Finds Supportive Housing Not So Scary After All

By Carol Volkart

Joan Stewart laughs when asked about early resistance to plans for a supportive housing facility at 16^th and Dunbar.

“‘Resistance’ is sanitizing it,” says Stewart, who’s been involved in the project from its earliest days. “There was absolute abhorrence to a facility like this on Dunbar.”

Thirteen years after its official opening, Dunbar Apartments basks quietly in the September sunshine, a well-kept modern building with giant sunflowers at its unremarkable entrance. Stewart suspects most newcomers to the community don’t even know it exists.

“This facility in a prime location on the west side of Vancouver is a shocker.”

But today, long after Dunbar has proven that such facilities can blend quietly into a neighbourhood, supportive housing is as explosive an issue as ever.

Earlier this year, Mayor Ken Sim ignited a furor when he proposed a temporary halt on net-new supportive housing, saying it’s time for other municipalities to step up and do their share. Nearly 100 speakers opposed the motion when it came to council, and there were hundreds of protesters outside City Hall.

A few months later, the city bowed to a court decision and backed off on a controversial plan for a 13-storey supportive housing facility at 8th and Arbutus. Residents feared the tenant mix and lack of sufficient supports would bring drugs and chaos to the neighbourhood.

This summer, after intense controversy about three problem-ridden facilities in the Granville Entertainment District, Sim announced he’d given the province a list of five city-owned sites where supportive housing could be built to replace them. The three facilities had generated thousands of police and fire calls over the past five years.

Structure, Control, Support

Those who have been involved with the Dunbar facility since it was a gleam in a politician’s eye are unequivocal about what’s needed to avoid the kind of problems feared whenever supportive housing is proposed.

And that, says longtime Dunbar resident Anil Singh, is structure, control and support.

Singh speaks from experience. His time as a police officer gave him first-hand experience with the chaos that resulted when supportive housing elsewhere lacked those crucial elements.

He says he joined the community advisory committee for the proposed Dunbar facility in 2009 because of local outrage over the project. Residents feared that tenants with mental health issues would bring crime, disorder and drug use into the neighbourhood.

“When it’s done properly, it doesn’t. When it’s done improperly, it does,” says Singh, who was so impressed by the organization running the Dunbar facility that he eventually joined Coast Mental Health’s board of directors.

“People who want to thrive can if there are controls,” he says, “but if it’s just a rooming house, you’ll have the same problems as downtown – floods, fires, crime and street disorder.”

Stewart, who also brings first-hand experience to the issue through her work with the Westside Anglicans Neighbourhood Ministry, reiterates Singh’s points about the importance of structure, control and support.

“That’s why Dunbar has been so successful. There is 24-hour staff on hand. They know when people go in and out, when they need help, and medication is there. If there is constant support, that’s why it works.”

Dunbar has proven, she says, that if supportive housing is done well, “with all the safeguards in place, it can be done, and people can co-exist nicely together.”

Inside A Facility That Works

So what does a properly run supportive housing facility look and act like?

To give an idea, Coast Mental Health chief operating officer Sara Goldvine and Rex Calderon, senior manager, community homes, played host one morning at the Dunbar Apartments.

The first impression is how utterly unremarkable the building is. A modern four-storey structure with retail on the ground floor fronting 16^th Avenue and Dunbar Street, it blends quietly into the streetscape. The entrance at 3595 West 17th could be that of a small business office. Above are the balconies and windows of ordinary-looking apartments, blinds drawn or open, but clearly occupied.

Inside is something of a surprise. The ground floor is open, large and cavernous, leading to a substantial reception desk with two staffers busily at work. It’s clean and uncluttered. This is not a place where detritus could be abandoned or strangers could wander unnoticed.

The vibe is institutional rather than homey, but the open-floor plan provides flexibility for the many activities that happen here, such as the yoga, bingo and karaoke mentioned in posters on the large bulletin board. Part of the space is occupied by round tables and chairs for the evening meals served to all residents, and behind a nearby metal screen, the facility’s cook is already at work before noon.

“The main area is a flexible programming space, and is used for meals, activities like bingo and brain training, and as an informal gathering space for residents,” says Goldvine. “We find that having spaces like this in our buildings is crucial for supporting the social connection that is integral for mental health.”

Smaller areas off the main space offer homier vibes. There’s a library with bookshelves, a fireplace, TV screen and four comfortable chairs. There’s also a patio, which brings sunlight into the main space through glass doors, and offers plenty of seating plus a metal-roofed gazebo that protects against sun and rain.

‘This Is My Home’

Only three or four residents are around this morning, but one who has previously agreed to an interview settles comfortably into a boardroom space for a chat. A 10-year resident, she came here from Crossroads, a community home operated by Coast Mental Health for people unable to live independently.

She says she likes the Dunbar facility because it’s safe, comfortable “and I can do my own thing.” That includes reading, writing, listening to music and keeping up with sports, especially baseball.

She knows the neighbourhood well, listing off the businesses surrounding the Dunbar Apartments – Tim Hortons, Cheapskates, Perchance and especially Blight’s Home Hardware. The latter is obviously a favourite; she rhymes off the names of staff members as if they’re old acquaintances. It’s also where she bought her favourite coffee mug, which says: “I will start working when my coffee does.”

But she can also take breaks. She sometimes visits her mother in Burnaby for weekends, and her mother sometimes comes to Dunbar to visit her. Calderon, who sits in on the interview, explains that residents are encouraged to spend time with families, but must get approval from the medical team if it’s for longer than three days because arrangements must be made about medication. When visitors come to Dunbar, the host must remain with the guest, and overnight stays must be approved, he says.

The resident says she likes spending time with her mother in Burnaby, but Dunbar is home. As for her future, she says: “I will stay here. This is my home. They say I’m doing well.”

Matching Services and Residents

In a separate interview, Goldvine and Calderon explain supportive housing means different things to different people depending on their needs, but at the 51-unit Dunbar Apartments, it includes evening meals every day, breakfast three times a week, and 24/7 support with trained staffers always on duty.

There is medical support as needed, options for education and training, and a transitional employment program. Besides the recreational activities and a Bible-study group, there are programs to help with mental health and a brain training group to help with cognition through games. Church groups help celebrate special occasions like Christmas and Thanksgiving, bringing in special meals and treats for residents.

To qualify to live at Dunbar Apartments, people must be at risk of or experiencing homelessness and need support services in order to maintain their housing.

Potential residents are referred to Coast Mental Health through BC Housing or through Vancouver Coastal Health, each of which manages its own registry or wait list. Dunbar Apartments also has five units for people who are referred through Jewish Family Services.

“Once an applicant is referred to Dunbar Apartments through one of our partners, Coast Mental Health staff meet with the applicant so they can learn more about Dunbar and so that we can better understand their support needs,” says Goldvine.

 A Rocky Path to Today

However quiet and settled Dunbar Apartments is today, the path here was a rocky one.

When the city bought the site in 2005, residents had high hopes it would be for seniors’ housing. They weren’t happy when the city decided in 2007 that it would be 51 units of supportive housing instead.

Westside Anglicans’ Stewart still recalls the anger at the initial community meetings. “There was a huge furor, a huge pushback.”

Regardless, she spoke out for the facility. She’d been part of a street ministry started at her church,  St. Helen’s Anglican at 8^th and Trimble, and she knew many of the people living on west side streets and their need for homes. When the facility was finally built, her group proposed 17 people as potential tenants. “Now, in 2025, there are at least seven people we got off the street who are there today,” she says proudly.

A 2008 city information sheet answering common questions about the facility indicates the kinds of concerns residents were raising at the time. As for drug use, it noted that while some people with mental health issues may have a history of substance abuse, the facility would focus on those whose “primary challenges are related to their mental illness, not addictions.”

There were reassurances: “Individuals whose substance abuse would negatively impact the housing site or the community at large will not be eligible for tenancy. If a tenant’s behaviour becomes a problem during tenancy, that person will be referred to alternative accommodation. All tenants will be required to sign and adhere to a good-neighbour agreement to maintain tenancy.”

Tenants would be chosen, it said, “on the basis of their ability to live independently, interact with other residents and with neighbours in a manner fully consistent with any resident of an apartment building anywhere in the community.”

It promised a community advisory committee would be created to manage local impacts. “Coast is committed to dealing with all concerns in a timely manner, and all reported concerns and their resolutions will be reviewed at the meetings of the community advisory committee.”

Communication Key to Success

The early creation of the community advisory committee, which began work years before the facility opened and continued for years afterwards, was a key part of the process, says Renay Bajkay, executive director, program services, with Coast Mental Health.

“Neighbours had a voice,” she says. “Neighbours knew Anil was on the committee and could go to him and he would bring those concerns to the committee. The proof was in the pudding, but that was a really good start.”

The committee included people from the church, two or three neighbours from the community, the developers, Coast and sometimes the city. “All of that managed to open the doors to communication,” she says. The advisory committee first met monthly, then quarterly, then disbanded about five years after the building was operational because there were no issues to discuss.

Also important were the early meetings Coast held in the community, facilitated by the city. They gave residents a chance to ask questions and gave Coast a chance to hear the neighbours’ point of view, says Bajkay. “It was a learning experience for us.”

Singh agrees that Coast did a good job of educating the community before the building opened, but recalls the first few years weren’t entirely smooth. There were complaints about the number of ambulances and police cars at the facility, he says. Two people accounted for 90 percent of the emergency calls, he says, and one was relocated to a more suitable place.  “Once Coast stabilized the population and the tenants were the right mix, the concerns disappeared.”

He adds: “We need to have the difficult conversation that not everyone is suitable. Some people should be institutionalized and in care.”

From Fury to Sympathy

Singh also remarks on how the community’s attitude toward the facility has shifted over the years. When the building, new as it was, began leaking in 2019 and repairs stretched into years, “the community response was, ‘Those poor people having to live behind screens for years.’”

The Vancouver Sun’s Dan Fumano made the same point in a 2021 story about the lengthy repairs, noting that he’d been contacted by several Dunbar residents expressing sympathy for residents.  “If these readers’ emails are any indication of the feeling in the neighbourhood, it appears the community has moved from concerns, 13 years ago, about the prospective tenants of the Dunbar social-housing building, to concerns, today, for the current tenants of the Dunbar structure.”

Along those lines, Stewart has an anecdote about a Dunbar resident who vociferously opposed the facility at the early meetings, but changed her mind after a few years, when “nobody had been murdered and people weren’t lying around in front of the building.”

At the time, Stewart recalls, local churches were collecting bedding and other items for the people moving in, and the once-fierce opponent stepped up to offer some of the afghans she’d been knitting. “We were surprised, to say the least.”  Asked why the change of mind, the woman said: “If you start knitting stuff for people, you don’t feel the same way anymore.”

‘It Is a Worthy Thing’

Jane Scherk, who’s lived in Dunbar for 37 years at 17^th Ave. near the Dunbar Apartments, says her experience of the facility is “85 percent positive,” with a few negatives, including sirens, some parking issues and the inconvenience of the first construction and then years of reconstruction.

“I do not see any drugs or garbage, it’s very clean and organized, people are quiet.”

If anything, she says, neighbours would like to see and know more about the facility. “We wouldn’t mind a little more connection.”

Regarding the sirens, Coast’s Goldvine says the facility has many people aging in place, so there are physical health problems that sometimes bring ambulances and fire trucks. But there is a low rate of incidents, she says, noting that whenever first responders are called, a critical incident report must be filed.

As for more openness to neighbours, Goldvine says it’s a fine line to walk, as the facility is a private home for residents. “We need to respect their privacy and dignity and recognize that we have a compassionate community that genuinely wants to support them.” But it’s a good conversation to have, she says, and she’s open to ideas about how to make that happen. Suggestions could go to info@coastmentalhealth.com

There is already a volunteer program where neighbours connect with residents – through a knitting group and Bible study group, for example — and she says other possibilities would be entertained.

Overall, Scherk  says, “I think it is a worthy thing and that these people should be in the community. We just feel it could be more.”

She adds: “If you asked me if I would be okay with another place like this in Dunbar, I would say, ‘absolutely.’”