I seem to be embroiled in or witness to, I’m not sure which, a bit of a war going on in my community over short-term rentals (STRs), or what most of us call AirBnBs, much the way we called all snow machines “skidoos” in those early days of snow travel. Both sides of this particular argument feel justified in their outrage, but where the Board of this bare land condominium (of which I am secretary) are following the Canadian Condominium Institute rules and protocol, those who want to have STRs are doing everything just short of picking up a weapon and… it got me thinking.
The Canadian Bar Association tells us that new measures put in place to regulate STRs are meant to ease the housing shortage in many, if not most, Canadian communities. STRs have been widely criticized for breaking down communities, for inflating rents and shrinking the availability of long-term accommodations for residents. The by-laws and declarations of this Community Condominium have always seemed clear, that no commercial operations of any kind may occur within the confines of this community, but a group of homeowners think otherwise. The language in the by-laws does not specifically name STRs, mostly because that term was not in general use when the by-laws and declarations were drawn up.
The point of the “got me thinking” has little to do with the fact that after seven months of arbitration proceedings with an extremely large legal bill, the Arbitrator decided the by-laws are ambiguous on this point, and he ruled in favour of the homeowner despite case law to the contrary to which the Arbitrator said he was not bound. Instead, Mr. Arbitrator gave weight to the developer’s testimony who, as a matter of interest, has served time in jail for committing fraud. Instead, my curiosity is with the behaviour of those who want STRs and my reaction to it.
When people hold their beliefs in clenched fists, beliefs that exclude some, beliefs that stand in judgment, beliefs that condemn without cause or evidence, beliefs that serve only oneself, then those clenched-fisted souls are ready to fight rather than look for truth on common ground. One would think I too would react with outrage or anger, but instead I winced and was overcome by the desire to run home, wherever that may be, to find shelter. (Side note – when we leave our home, leave the place where we learned to walk, to ride ponies, to play piano, to hang upside down from tree branches, some of us never find another; we are perpetually without a home.)
Pulling the blankets over one’s head has never formed any part of a solution, takes no measured step forward. My reaction startled me, and I must confess, I was disappointed in myself. But why so strong a leaning toward cowardice? Was it simply wanting to be on the side of right? Or was it not wanting to feel those things that are unpleasant? Was it fear of confrontation, of having to face off against rage, of having to hold my ground with shoulders back? I think that is more likely. But then something interesting happened. I bumped into one of Maya Angelou’s poems – “A Brave and Startling Truth” where she wrote … “And when we come to it / To the day of peacemaking / When we release our fingers from fists of hostility / And allow the pure air to cool our palms” … then we can … “live without crippling fear.”
So many of the things we create for enlightenment, for betterment, become things that divide us, rather than allowing for harmony. So often what we strive for is to be happy all the time and that anything contrary to that is due to a shortcoming of our efforts or of life itself. No feeling is forever, poet Rainer Rilke told us. “Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror. Just keep going. No feeling is final,” he said and then you will “find resilience in the face of adversity.”
I’ve pushed back the blankets and have put my shoes on. I still must get through a community meeting where people will shout and swear, and I will make some meaningful note of that for posterity in the Minutes of said meeting. This will require our community to rebuild so that its residents again feel as though they belong, that we can work together toward a common good, with or without STRs. I gave my community my service; a difference of opinion isn’t grounds for erasing that. I’ll straighten my spine, walk with a firmer step, be respectful and kind, help those who need assistance, offer support to those who are struggling, pick up the litter that someone else forgot. It’s really that simple.
wendistewart@live.ca
