Another’s treasure

They dig through dumpsters and recycling bins searching for value where most of us see junk. It’s not an easy way to get by. Those who see merit in their work want to find a way to make it easier

JOSEPH PARENT PUSHES a shopping cart down a sidewalk in Durand searching for his living on the eve of waste collection day.

THE 69-YEAR-OLD cuts a slight figure behind the hefty load of jangling bottles and cans he’s gathered under the glow of street lights.

“I don’t get no disability or no welfare. This is how I make my living,” he says, sporting a green baseball cap, a worn Miller Light T-shirt and a kind grin.

Parent can be counted among the ranks of bottle collectors, metal scavengers and dumpster divers who forage for value in Hamilton where most of us see junk.

Some freelancers equipped with trucks run small enterprises; others are homeless and push shopping carts; eco-conscious “freegans” recover food that’s bruised but still edible.

Some, like Parent, have a place to live but struggle to make ends meet.

Parent says he needs $700 a month to rent his room and cover essentials like groceries. That’s quite a few bottles.

“Sometimes it’s pretty hard, believe me,” he says. “I mean, I’m out every night.”

IT’S NOT AN EASY way to get by. There’s the obvious yuck factor of digging through trash, but also health hazards: think shards of glass and used needles.

Social exclusion is another hardship. Urban trash collectors — echoes of 19th-century rag pickers with counterparts in the developing world — are a disenfranchised lot.

In Hamilton, at least one local charity aspires to bring dignity and better working conditions to those who work quietly in this informal recycling sector.

To do that, the Hamilton Dream Center wants to break down barriers between waste pickers and residents.

“They need to access the stuff in the bins with dignity,” said Rebekah Hill, director of the agency dedicated to helping the poor.

“Home and business owners need to be able to put the stuff at the curb and not come out the next morning to it scattered all around or bags ripped open,” Hill added.

One practical solution would see property owners mount hooks to their buildings. They’d pre-sort trash for items of value for pickers into bags to hang on the hook. That way, they don’t have to root through the garbage.

All that’s needed to get the embryonic initiative off the ground are volunteers, Hill said.

The idea finds its inspiration in Vancouver, B.C., where the Binners’ Project has worked to improve the economic prospects and image of waste pickers.

Binners — the West Coast term for dumpster divers — are stigmatized, says co-founder and director Anna Godefroy. “They really feel like they’re on the margins.”

The project has sold between 100 and 150 binners’ hooks, a simple tool that also bridges societal gaps.

“On the residents’ side, it’s a great way of showing support,” Godefroy said.

The Binners’ Project, which is affiliated with charity Tides Canada, draws roughly 350 binners into the fold each year, she said. Getting organized has opened up new income streams for binners, such as cleanup gigs, Godefroy noted.

“We reach out to event organizers and tell them, ‘Instead of excluding binners, why don’t you hire them?’”

The City of Vancouver — whose Downtown Eastside is one of the poorest neighbourhoods in Canada — is “very keen to recognize and support the informal economy,” Godefroy said.

IN HAMILTON, a bylaw makes it illegal to pick through waste and recyclables set out for municipal collection.

But the city hasn’t exactly cracked down on scofflaws, considering how regularly informal recyclers trawl streets and back alleys.

In the past five years, roughly 10 to 15 charges have been issued for scavenging, an offence that can carry a fine of up to $200.

Bylaw officers use their discretion: Their first encounter is reserved for dissuading offenders from future trash picking rather than handing out a ticket, said Clorinda Pagliari, a city spokesperson.

“In some cases, individuals are not aware they are in contravention of the city’s bylaw.”

The bylaw is meant to safeguard revenue generated from the city’s recycling program. Those funds go toward the cost of all waste management

In Hamilton, at least one local charity aspires to bring dignity and better working conditions to those who work quietly in this informal recycling sector

A lone scrapper stands on the weigh scale while heading into Budget Iron and Metals on Sherman Avenue North to drop off his load.

Matthew Edgeworth pushes his cart of belongings and scrap metal up John Street. Scrapper Jack Edworthy subsidizes his social assistance by collecting scrap metal.

Joseph Parent, 69, says he works hard to make ends meet by collecting bottles in the Durand neighbourhood.