How Systemic Racism is implemented in Canada’s Urban Planning
By: Mariam Elghamudi, Marketing Team
Urban landscapes are not neutral. The streets we walk, the neighborhoods we call home, and the businesses that shape our communities are all products of deliberate planning, planning that has too often been weaponized against Black communities. While Canada prides itself on being a beacon of multiculturalism, the reality is that systemic racism is deeply embedded in its cities, shaping who gets to thrive and who is pushed to the margins. Nowhere is this more evident than in the history of Black urban spaces, where patterns of displacement and neglect have continuously undermined their cultural and economic vitality.
As we mark Black History Month, it is crucial to confront these uncomfortable truths. The story of Little Jamaica—a vibrant cultural hub in Toronto currently under threat—echoes the destruction of Africville in Halifax decades ago. These are not isolated incidents; they are part of a broader, ongoing pattern of systemic racism in urban planning that has gone largely unaddressed in Canada. The displacement of Black communities under the guise of "development" is not a relic of the past but a reality that persists today. Recognizing these injustices is only the first step; ensuring that Black communities are not erased in the name of progress must be the collective responsibility of policymakers, urban planners, and Canadian society at large. This article is a call to action—a demand for accountability and a plea for the preservation of spaces that hold the histories, identities, and futures of Black Canadians.
Little Jamaica is a vibrant ethnic enclave in Toronto, Ontario. Located in Eglinton-West, it has been recognized as a distinct cultural hub for Afro-Caribbean immigrants for many decades. The neighborhood has been shaped by Caribbean immigrants, specifically those of Jamaican origin, who began settling there in the late 1950s. Today, it is home to the highest concentration of Black and Caribbean-owned businesses in Toronto, including barbershops, hair salons, restaurants, and music shops. The neighborhood is known as the second-largest hub for reggae music in the world, featuring numerous music shops, labels, and studios, as well as a diverse offering of Caribbean cuisine. However, this significant cultural hub for Toronto’s Black community is currently under threat due to the development of the Eglinton Crosstown LRT, which has negatively impacted local businesses and raises concerns about gentrification (the process of urban redevelopment that, rooted in systemic racism, displaces long-term marginalized residents and businesses through rising costs and demographic shifts). This threat has led many to question how Canada has used racist urban planning tactics to oppress its Black population.
The challenges facing Little Jamaica eerily echo a dark chapter in Canadian history: the destruction of Africville, Halifax, in the 1960s. Like Little Jamaica, Africville was a historic Black community located on the northern shore of Halifax, Nova Scotia, with roots dating back to the late 18th century. Originally settled in the 1830s by Canadians of African descent seeking employment in Halifax, Africville's earliest settlers were a mix of formerly enslaved people, Maroons from Jamaica, and Black refugees from the War of 1812. By 1849, Africville had grown to about 80 residents and established the Seaview African United Baptist Church, which became the heart of the community. The community developed its own institutions, including schools, churches, and businesses, and was known for its strong sense of identity and cultural expression. Despite their resilience, Africville's residents faced systemic racism perpetuated by the City of Halifax. The city collected taxes from the community but did not provide basic services such as paved roads, running water, or sewers. When a railway extension cut through the community in 1854, several homes were expropriated and destroyed. Homeowners protested, arguing they had not been compensated for the expropriated land and that the speeding train posed a danger and polluted the village. By the early 20th century, municipal services such as public transportation, garbage collection, and recreational facilities remained nonexistent in Africville.
In 1947, Halifax City Council approved plans to rezone Africville for industrial use, marking the beginning of the community’s systematic erasure. Reports prepared for council in 1956 and 1957 recommended rehousing residents to make way for industrial projects. Despite strong opposition from Africville residents, the city pressed forward with its so-called "urban renewal" plans. In 1964, the first properties were expropriated, and over the next five years, homes were bulldozed one by one, often without warning. Some families were relocated to inadequate or derelict housing in Halifax, while others were moved using city dump trucks, reinforcing the devaluation of their lives and homes. Africville quickly became a warzone, with houses disappearing overnight and residents forced to leave behind generations of history. The destruction of the Seaview United Baptist Church in 1967—carried out under the cover of darkness—was a devastating blow, symbolizing the final dismantling of the community. By 1969, the last remaining residents were displaced, and Africville was gone. Yet, its legacy of resilience endured. Eddie Carvery, a former resident, returned to Africville in 1970, setting up a protest camp demanding justice and compensation. His occupation, spanning over 50 years, became one of the longest-running civil rights protests in Canadian history, a testament to Africville’s enduring fight against systemic racism in urban planning.
The ongoing disruption to Little Jamaica due to the construction of the Eglinton Crosstown LRT has left many residents and business owners grappling with uncertainty. While the project promises long-term benefits, the immediate effects have been devastating for the community. Black-owned businesses, which have long defined the cultural and economic landscape of the neighborhood, have faced declining foot traffic and accessibility issues, forcing many to shut their doors. Environmental concerns, including increased dust and noise pollution, have further strained the area, impacting both quality of life and business operations. However, the most pressing concern remains the looming threat of gentrification. Many fear that once the LRT is completed, rising property values and rent increases will displace long-time residents and entrepreneurs, erasing the cultural identity that has made Little Jamaica a vital hub for Toronto’s Black community.
In response, activists, business owners, and community members have mobilized to demand financial compensation for affected businesses and the implementation of the Little Jamaica and Midtown Small Business and Community Economic Health and Wellness Strategy to support economic recovery. Efforts to preserve the neighborhood’s rich cultural heritage have also gained momentum, with a motion put forward to study Little Jamaica for designation as a Heritage Conservation District. These initiatives represent a crucial step toward preventing another erasure of Black spaces in Canada’s urban landscape, ensuring that Little Jamaica’s legacy endures rather than becoming yet another casualty of systemic neglect.
The erasure of Black spaces in Canada is not an accident— it is the direct result of systemic racism embedded in urban planning, a form of oppression that is as physical as it is social. Recognizing this truth during Black History Month is not just about acknowledging past injustices but about demanding a different future, one where Black communities are not continuously displaced in the name of "progress." The destruction of Africville and the ongoing threat to Little Jamaica are not isolated events; they are part of a longstanding pattern of exclusion and forced removal that has shaped Canada’s urban landscape. If we are to truly confront racism in this country, we must go beyond symbolic gestures and address the tangible, structural ways in which it operates—including the deliberate reshaping of cities to push Black communities to the margins. Protecting spaces like Little Jamaica is more than an act of preservation; it is an act of resistance, a refusal to allow history to repeat itself under the disguise of development.
Citations
KOHO. (2023, March 15). Redlining in Canada: The past and present. KOHO Learn. Retrieved from https://www.koho.ca/learn/redlining-in-canada/
Nova Scotia Human Rights Commission. (2023, February 8). Standing for Africville. Nova Scotia Human Rights Commission. Retrieved from https://humanrights.novascotia.ca/news-events/news/2023/standing-africville
Parks Canada. (n.d.). Africville National Historic Site of Canada. Government of Canada. Retrieved from https://www.pc.gc.ca/apps/dfhd/page_nhs_eng.aspx?id=1763
Toronto Metropolitan University. (2022, January 18). Black experiences with planning in Canada. Faculty of Community Services News. Retrieved from https://www.torontomu.ca/fcs-news-events/news/2022/01/black-experiences-with-planning-in-canada/
Urban Land Institute Toronto. (n.d.). Tracking historical Black displacement in Toronto. ULI Toronto. Retrieved from https://toronto.uli.org/resources/uli-building-healthy-places-initiatives/tracking-historical-black-displacement-in-toronto/
Walton, P. (2022, March 28). Planning our way out of poverty, racism, and Toronto’s housing crisis. Canadian Dimension. Retrieved from https://canadiandimension.com/articles/view/planning-our-way-out-of-poverty-racism-and-torontos-housing-crisis
