Dufferin Grove Park was our paradise when my two older grandsons were tiny; I discovered the glorious sand pit (what? Real shovels and rivers of water?) with astonishment; they revelled in the wading pool and the staff were so responsive that when parents protested, the bigger kids were forbidden to use aggressive large water shooters when the little ones were present. On the hottest summer days, there was always a cool escarpment breeze near the wading pool, and there were always other parents and grandparents with whom to chat. It felt like, and it was, real community.

I brought the boys to Friday night suppers, to Dusk Dances, to pizza making, to charming plays. I pitched in to help fight DG battles, like the doomed struggle for a composting toilet. As someone who grew up in Toronto in the many staid decades BDG (Before Dufferin Grove), I was thrilled that something so robust and precious had been created in this wonderful park.

Then the bureaucrats began moving in on us with their cold and socially indifferent approach. Now I find myself in a state of outrage and sadness. How dare the bureaucrats charge $100 for a single use of the bake ovens that were created by volunteers? Why would they call us “customers” instead of “citizens”? Why do they want to stop, prevent, repress rather than enhance, enable, encourage?

A park is not a business. A community is not a corporation. City Hall is utterly out of touch with what matters to people in the community. Now, with a “ strong” Tory mayor who can overrule councillors, hand-pick conservative civil servants and respond to the provincial government instead of to the people of the city, democracy itself is threatened and our democratically-created park is in greater peril than ever. We must fight hard, now —and deepest gratitude to those who are already fighting! — or witness the heartbreaking end of a beautiful civic experiment.