Image Credit, Dimitris Vetsikas
The City of Winnipeg’s recent announcement to allocate $3 million over three years—$1 million annually—for recreational facilities in the North End is being met with a mix of relief and bitter frustration. While the money is welcome in a region that has long suffered from underfunding and neglect, critics are asking: why now, and is it anywhere near enough?
Let’s not sugarcoat it—this investment, while better than nothing, is a paltry offering when compared to the staggering $100 million recently allocated to Waverley West, one of the city’s fastest-growing—and most affluent—neighbourhoods. The numbers don’t lie. If Waverley West is worth $100 million, then North Winnipeg, where crime rates are higher and infrastructure is decaying, should at minimum be receiving ten times what was announced.
And this isn’t just about money—this is about priorities, values, and the systemic neglect of low-income communities. If the City of Winnipeg is serious about reducing crime, improving health outcomes, and supporting families, then why do its spending habits consistently favour the wealthy?
Former Winnipeg mayoral candidate and community advocate Don Woodstock didn’t mince words when asked about the disparity:
“Every time the city pours tens of millions into areas that already have tennis courts, splash pads, and soccer fields while telling the North End to be happy with a million a year, it sends a clear message: if you’re poor, you don’t matter. This is not an oversight—it’s policy.”
Just look at the way the City handled the closure of the Happyland Pool. When asked to provide a mere $130,000 to keep the facility open, the answer was no—repeatedly. For months, the community fought to save it, only to be met with bureaucratic spin and the age-old excuse: “it’s not in the budget.” This all-too-familiar refrain echoes the earlier fight to keep Sherbrook Pool from closure, another case of promises made but barely kept. Pools, gyms, and community spaces are not luxuries in these areas; they’re lifelines.
Meanwhile, City Hall continues to fund bloated programs and questionable partnerships with organizations that yield little measurable impact on the communities most in need. Year after year, millions are shoveled out to feel-good initiatives and pet projects while the North End, Point Douglas, and other struggling neighbourhoods fight for scraps.
Where’s the forward-thinking? Where’s the bold investment in youth? Where’s the summer programming we had in the 1990s, when gyms were open Monday to Saturday from 11 a.m. to 9 p.m.? Back then, kids had somewhere to go. They weren’t getting into trouble—they were shooting hoops, playing volleyball, or joining summer clubs. The crime rate was low not because of policing, but because recreation was accessible and constant.
Now? Doors are locked. Programs are cut. Facilities crumble. The few dollars doled out are celebrated as if the City is doing these communities a favour, when in truth, this is bare minimum governance wrapped in a PR bow.
Let’s be clear: Winnipeg is in debt, and that debt is growing. The bond market has become the City’s personal ATM, used to paper over budget shortfalls without a clear plan for repayment—except, of course, asking taxpayers to foot the bill in the years to come. Meanwhile, systemic underfunding of recreation, education partnerships, and school access continues unchecked.
It’s time for a serious reckoning. If the goal is to reduce crime and elevate struggling communities, the playbook is obvious—reinvest in youth. Reopen school gyms across the city during the summer months. Bring back drop-in sports programs. Fund mentorship, arts, and wellness initiatives that actually meet people where they are. Stop pretending that crime will go down if you just throw more money at police or build a few token facilities in underserved areas.
The $3 million pledge to North Winnipeg is a start, but it’s not a solution. Not when Waverley West gets $100 million. Not when pools are shuttered for a lack of $130,000. Not when youth are left on the streets with nowhere to go, and not when the underlying financial model of the city is built on a house of fiscal cards.
In a city where wealth dictates access and privilege determines visibility, this kind of budget disparity isn’t just disappointing—it’s dangerous. It breeds resentment, worsens inequality, and betrays the very citizens who need help the most.
So yes, the City of Winnipeg has made an announcement. But the deeper message remains loud and clear: some neighbourhoods still matter more than others.
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