Lighting up the least-happy neighbourhood
A StatsCan index rates a lower-city area east of James as the worst in Canada. Enter Jamie-Lee Collins
When they ranked the happiness of cities across the country a few years ago, Hamilton didn’t do so well. The Statistics Canada numbers put us 26th in a field of 34.
Now there’s fresh analysis. Now they’re saying that on the satisfied-with-life index, we are actually last in all the land. Part of Hamilton is, anyway.
The National Bureau of Economic Research’s new paper is based on that original StatsCan report. But the authors break the numbers down to 1,200 smaller areas.
Hamilton gets divided into 17 neighbourhoods. On average, they score 7.88 out of 10 on the how-satisfied-are-you index. But a lower-city area east of James rates worst in the city, at 7.04. And that, apparently, is the lowest score in Canada.
Is that as bad as it sounds? According to UBC professor John Helliwell, one of the study authors, it means the people in that part of Hamilton are “not unhappy really. Just slightly, but significantly, less happy than elsewhere.”
Census Tract 62 is in the heart of this least-happy neighbourhood. Cannon Street East runs through it. Bike lanes now make life better, but big transports still shake the ground and foul the air. There are empty stores and boarded-up windows.
But there is something else here that hollers happy — a compact cottage on Cannon near Emerald.
It’s painted the brightest of blues, decorated with a cast of cartoon characters — Bugs Bunny, Daffy Duck, Sylvester the Cat, Pepé Le Pew.
I knock. The woman who answers doesn’t seem sad today, not even when I tell her she’s dead last on the honour roll of happiness.
Jamie-Lee Collins is 68. (She was born Georgina, but changed it years ago. She wanted to put the past where it belonged.)
It’s hot, and she’s in a tank top. Tattoos run the length of both arms.
“A lot of those people are dead now,” she says.
She has many reasons to be not so happy. She’s not sharing all of them “with the whole world,” but life did start hard. There were 12 kids in the family, or 17, depending on who you include. Parents George and Delima Elliott rented a rambling place right where the Central police station stands today.
Jamie-Lee says she was the only one in the family to finish high school. “I was smart. I’m still smart, but I messed up in life.”
Married and pregnant at 17, then unmarried. Spent too much time with bikers, got in trouble, life went off the rails. Had eight good years in B.C. on a hobby farm. Loved the animals, still does, still watches a vet program called “The Incredible Dr. Pol” every afternoon at three on CHCH. On her lap, three chihuahuas — Tia, Peanut and Coco.
She moved into this little house about 11 years ago. Yes, she says, there are addicts and sex-trade workers. “But there are other people, too.”
She calls Maggie, her friend across the street, and puts it on speaker phone.
“People can condemn this neighbourhood all they want,” Maggie says. “But we have great neighbours.”
Jamie-Lee’s house used to be brown and boring. So she painted it blue-jean blue. A year or so ago, cousin Cindy brightened it up a notch for her.
At Barton and Barnesdale, Jamie-Lee found a woman who makes the cartoon figures. St. Brigid elementary is just around the corner from Jamie-Lee’s house, and “the kids love this.” Sometimes she has treats for them.
There’s now an angel out front, too. That’s to remember “street friend” Sara Donovan, who died four years ago. The statue’s not sad, it’s comforting, JamieLee says.
She wears a cross. She doesn’t go to church anymore “but I believe there’s a higher authority that watches us, and helps us to make each other happy.”
Even here, in the place where happiness comes hardest.
Jamie-Lee says she was the only one in the family to finish high school. “I was smart. I’m still smart, but I messed up in life.”