Yesterday, I had the pleasure of sharing lunch with someone I’ll call E—a man whose story and heart left a deep impression on me.

We first met a few weeks ago in the premier’s office. E is a Christian and a successful businessman, but what truly defines him is his unwavering commitment to community. For years, he’s volunteered with Union Gospel Mission (UGM), walking alongside people experiencing homelessness and addiction. That lived compassion has now led him to serve as an adviser to the premier’s housing strategy—a role that blends insight, empathy, and action.

Over lunch, we spoke candidly about the housing crisis—especially the growing number of people on the margins. I shared my concerns about the lack of affordable housing and the rising tide of homelessness, particularly among seniors, women, and those living paycheck to paycheck. E listened with care and offered thoughtful reflections drawn from both his frontline experience and his strategic work in government.

Our conversation reminded me that real solutions require more than policy—they require people. People who are willing to listen, to lead with compassion, and to see dignity in every life.

This dialogue felt especially timely in light of my recent open letter in the Richmond News, where I questioned the cancellation of the Cambie and Sexsmith supportive housing project. That decision was framed as a “victory for public opinion,” but I asked: A victory for whom? For the 90 individuals who would have had a safe place to call home, it was a loss.

Now, similar concerns are surfacing again—this time around a proposed housing project in the Aberdeen area. In a local Facebook group, many residents voiced fears that the development would become a shelter for homeless individuals and people struggling with addiction, raising worries about safety and quality of life. These concerns are real and deserve respectful dialogue, not dismissal.

Unfortunately, the recent public letter from RITE Richmond—written in Chinese—responded with a tone that many found hurtful. It labeled community concerns as “misinformation” and suggested they were politically motivated. This kind of rhetoric risks deepening division and eroding trust, especially within Richmond’s Chinese-speaking community.

But here’s the truth: we can hold space for both compassion and caution. We can advocate for well-managed, transparent housing initiatives that prioritize safety and support—while also rejecting stigma and fear. Homelessness and addiction are not threats to be pushed away; they are human challenges that call for collective care.

E reminded me that faith, business, and public service can work together to build something better. His example gives me hope that we can move beyond polarization and toward partnership.

So let’s keep talking. Let’s keep listening. Let’s keep asking: What kind of city do we want to be? One that turns away from the vulnerable—or one that opens its arms with courage and care?

I believe Richmond can be a place where everyone belongs. And I’m grateful for conversations like the one I had with E, which help light the way.