I am sitting near Lake Ontario in the middle of the city. An impressive storm has finally tapered off, bringing a bit of freshness to what has been an especially hot and muggy day. Puddles are everywhere. The trees hang low, a blend of greens in every shade. Nearby, a dog pauses to smell the air.

To my right, sailboats line the shore. To my left, buildings rise above the waterfront, including the very top of the CN Tower. The cloud cover is low, forming a mist around the skyline. This view reminds me how much I love this place.

My love for Toronto runs deep. I was born and raised here. I stayed when I became an adult and have continued to nurture my roots. I get to be part of a number of vibrant neighbourhoods and find community on both sides of the Don Valley (something many Torontonians avoid crossing). Walking along Queen Street West in Parkdale is one of my favourite things to do, though you could plunk me down in almost any neighbourhood and I would gladly explore it.

I know cities can get a bad rap. They are big, noisy, and, to some, intimidating. But to me, the city is home. I love that I can walk through a ravine in the morning and skip stones at the lake by evening. The diversity provides a window to the world. And the food! While I recognize this is not everyone’s experience, I am almost always running into someone I know. It is possible to experience a neighbourhood in a village-like way.

At the same time, I am painfully aware of how the city can contribute to deep isolation. Being surrounded by people can heighten the loneliness of someone who feels completely disconnected. The cost of living is high and, for some, debilitating. The number of people without access to housing continues to rise rather than fall. These are just a few of the sobering realities many people face.

For me, all of this poses a challenge: How do I embrace the good while helping to disrupt what causes harm? Simply put, it starts with being present. I want to keep walking these city streets and learning people’s names. I want to build relationships. I want to listen to what people need and respond accordingly, whether that means offering help myself or connecting someone with a person who can.

I know that problems are rarely solved through individual effort. The challenges facing our city- including housing, affordability, mental health, and social isolation, require collective action, public investment, and systemic change. We need a city that works for all people, including those most often left behind. Personal acts of kindness are important, but they are not a substitute for this kind of justice.

At the same time, I believe cities are changed through countless small acts of presence, care, and connection. Systemic change is often fueled by people who have taken the time to know their neighbours, understand their community, and refuse to look away from what they see. Perhaps that is one reason I love Toronto so much. Here, there are millions of ordinary opportunities to be neighbours. And maybe that is how we begin to imagine and build a better city together.