Today marks 20 years since I moved to North Burnaby. I spent the first 16 years in an apartment with a roommate on Capitol Hill and the past four years in my own apartment in the Burnaby Heights.

Over this period, many posts on this website have focused on my life in this area, and I feel it would be appropriate to mark the anniversary with my reflections on spending nearly half of my life here, with a specific focus on the changes I have observed over time.

Although the marquee of this site mentions Burnaby, I have yet to articulate on what that means. This post is my attempt.

I suppose I should explain how and why I came here. But first, some background.

I moved to Vancouver from Nanaimo in January 2000 to pursue employment and post-secondary studies. When that didn’t work out, I moved to Peterborough, Ontario where I completed my degree in Canadian Studies in 2005. I had a wonderful time in Ontario, but I missed British Columbia and was determined to give it a second chance.

As it happened, my friend David, who I refer to as Housemate, was looking to move around the time I was finishing my degree. We first met on IRC, an internet chat client, in 1999 and quickly became friends. When he told me he needed a roommate I took this as my sign to come home.

In July 2005, he spotted a “for rent” sign from the 135 SFU bus on Capitol Hill. It turned out to be a bright two bedroom apartment for only $925 a month. The landlady, Debbie, didn’t require a credit check, so he signed a lease and I moved in on August 31.

I stayed there for the next 16 years before deciding to move to my own apartment just down the street in the Burnaby Heights, where I still live. Housemate stayed in the old apartment until November 2024 but we still see each other on a regular basis. Shantel, a close friend who came on the same plane with me from Ontario in 2005, is also still part of my life today.

My rationale for staying was quite simple: affordable rent, a decent apartment and a convenient neighbourhood that was easily accessible by public transit. For reference, my former building has a walk score of 77 out of 100. When I moved in 2021, I decided to stay in the same general area because it was familiar and comfortable. I didn’t want the added stress of acclimating to a new neighbourhood. As a plus, my current building has a walk score of 93.

Looking back, I realize that much of my life here has been shaped by being more of an observer than a participant. My work and studies took me outside the Heights nearly every day, so my involvement in the neighbourhood itself has been limited to that of a resident.

That perspective is rooted in how I’ve experienced the Heights: mostly on foot or by public transit. For 20 years, I’ve seen the neighbourhood at a pedestrian’s pace, which has given me a unique window into how it has changed over time.

Over the years, I’ve noticed that buses have become increasingly crowded as more people have moved into the area. What was once a fairly comfortable ride now often means standing-room-only, and buses are frequently delayed by congestion along Hastings. For me, the daily commute on the R5 has become the most unpleasant aspect of life here.

When I first moved here, there were noticeably more working class and lower income individuals in this neighbourhood. This included a wide range of people who lived on the margins but could still afford a place to live and sometimes they even worked in the neighbourhood. They were my neighbours and friends and I miss the authenticity they brought to this area.

In the early years, it was possible to be poor and also afford an apartment here. If you were unhappy with your place, moving to another building or a basement suite was quite feasible.

Money stretched a bit further so it was possible to enjoy the benefits of the neighbourhood on a low income. For many years, I was a low income earner, working as a freelance journalist and supplementing that meagre income with part-time jobs, welfare or disability, yet I never had to go far to meet almost all of my needs.

This neighbourhood sustained me.

There were a lot of restaurants and shops catering to lower income customers, including two dollar stores, a pawn shop and a number of “greasy spoon” restaurants. Additionally, the Admiral Pub hosted weekly roast beef and turkey dinners for less than $10 a plate. It wasn’t uncommon to see bikers there, including fathers of some of the kids I went to elementary school with.

The neighbourhood itself was rougher around the edges.

Although gentrification had begun, the area still resembled “old Vancouver.” Most buildings between Holdom and Boundary were at least 25 years old, the sidewalks were quiet and buses were rarely full. There were also several car dealerships, garages and gas stations along that stretch.

When I moved here, there were only five mixed-use low-rises along that stretch of Hastings. Now, by my count, there are 25, with more under construction.

These new developments featured design improvements that greatly enhanced the neighbourhood’s aesthetic and character. They all include commercial and office spaces on the first floors with direct pedestrian access, and up to three additional storeys of residential units, greatly increasing the population density.

Zoning bylaws require these buildings to “step back” above the first floor, rather than rising straight up. The idea was to prevent the “wind tunnel” effect seen on streets like Broadway in Vancouver.

Additionally, the sidewalks in front of those buildings are considerably wider than the older developments they replaced. These design changes have brought more residents, businesses and pedestrian traffic in the neighbourhood. This, in turn, has helped make it a really nice place to walk around on a Saturday afternoon.

When I first moved here it could sometimes be a struggle to convince some friends to take the 135 SFU bus to visit me. “I have no plans on coming all the way out to Burnaby,” they’d say. Over the past few years, however, they’ve found their way here, and I frequently bump into my friends, colleagues and acquaintances who either live nearby or visit the neighbourhood to meet up at the many lovely coffee shops. I love that. It’s become a bit of a regional destination and that’s kind of neat.

In a way, I’ve evolved alongside the neighbourhood. Over the years I went back to school, retrained in a new career and increased my income and standard of living substantially. I ascended from the welfare class to the middle class as the neighbourhood evolved to serve a higher income clientele.

Although I still enjoy “welfare” food at at chains like A&W or Domino’s, I have come to love the expensive coffee shops, classy restaurants and cafes that have opened in recent years. I enjoy leisurely walks along the sidewalks and patronizing the many shops along the way. At its best, Hastings feels classy and festive with the street banners, annual Hats Off Day parade, trees lit up at night and two restored neon light installations.

Of course, all of this change hasn’t been without its challenges. When a neighbourhood is developed into an attractive and “classy” destination, it inevitably excludes many people. Those who could most benefit from its services such as lower income earners or people dealing with addiction or mental health struggles, are often pushed to the margins.

One of the clearest examples of this is housing. Costs have sky-rocketed. Along Hastings alone, over 25 new condo buildings have gone up, yet they are inaccessible to most people. I know this firsthand. For years, I saved enough money for a down-payment on condo, but by the time I reached by goal, prices had risen so high that I was locked out. At that point, after 16 years in this neighbourhood, I realized I would never own even the tiniest condo here. It felt like the years I’d spent in this neighbourhood meant nothing, as though my history here didn’t count.

Instead, I remain a renter. I could be demovicted or renovicted at any time and flung into the chasm of the housing crisis which forces even middle class people into shitty housing situations. The residential developments that have sprung up in this area are largely inaccessible to renters which means that over time, a higher percentage of residents will be from a higher income bracket.

Low-income people still live here, but not in the numbers they once did and it increasingly feels like they don’t belong. Lovely cafes and expensive coffee shops are out of reach for man, sending the meta-message that they are not welcome.

I’m painfully aware that 2005 Nathaniel would never have been able to move here in 2025. I’d like to think my presence has added something of value over the years, but a young man today, leaving university with a very small income, would likely never get the chance I had. He wouldn’t be able to grow into middle age here and give back to this community. That, to me, is a real loss.

The thrust of development and gentrification has made me feel as though my time here is limited. I still love this neighbourhood deeply, but there’s always been a quiet uncertainty about whether I truly belong. I’ve come to realize that living here is a privilege, one not equally available to everyone. There are countless people in this city who, in many ways, deserve it more than I do.

Despite the challenges and uncertainty of living here, I have no plans to leave anytime soon. I might stay a few more years or even the rest of my life. Whatever the case, I am deeply grateful to call this place home and intend to make the most of it.

Above all, I want to share this place with the people I care about. I want them to visit, to let me show them my Burnaby Heights and the best that it has to offer. Not just as a tour guide, but an extension of my world and heart and the life I’ve built here.