The number of children living in this pocket of the downtown core has ballooned 500 per cent in 15 years. The pace of parkland creation has not kept up: Wyatt鈥檚 neighbourhood, a stretch between Bathurst and York Streets south of Front Street West, where the housing consists almost entirely of highrise condominiums, is among the least green places in the entire city.
In many ways, this area is symptomatic of a city-wide blight.

Two-year-old Wyatt, left, and his older brother ride their scooters through a busy downtown intersection. After their mom picked them up from their downtown daycare they headed to Roundhouse Park to play.

Wyatt, 2, navigates city sidewalks with the steely confidence of a toddler born and raised in the downtown core.

Wyatt, 2, navigates city sidewalks with the steely confidence of a toddler born and raised in the downtown core.

Wyatt at Roundhouse Park. An adult can travel the perimeter of the playground in 100 paces.

Wyatt at Roundhouse Park. An adult can travel the perimeter of the playground in 100 paces.


A cascade of research in recent years has demonstrated that green spaces in cities are not a mere frill, but critical infrastructure that supports the physical, mental and social wellbeing of all residents, and children in particular. Urban green spaces are also a potent defence against climate change and its metastasizing ills. Sky-high rates of climate-related anxiety show that many young people are acutely aware they will be forced to inherit this crisis.
And yet, as our understanding of these benefits has grown, green space in 海角社区官网has dropped.
By using satellite data to track urban greenness over time, Statistics Canada found that Toronto鈥檚 green space has shrunk significantly over the past two decades. As the region faces pressure to create much-needed housing, city reports warn that the amount of parkland per person risks falling further. Unplantable land covered by concrete and other impervious surfaces is expanding, a change that is often permanent.
Note to readers
The Star has used only the first names of children and family members participating in this series to avoid potential negative repercussions in the children鈥檚 lives, both today and in the future.
Recently, Doug Ford鈥檚 provincial government introduced new housing legislation that includes a suite of changes developers advocated for and that municipalities say will mean less new parkland in the future.
Wyatt is of course naive to these adult challenges, in part because he is two, and in part because his parents work hard to give him and his brother access to parks, nature and outdoor activities. For children of families with less means, the barriers to accessing green space are even steeper.
鈥淔or a long time, (green space) seemed like it was just a nice-to-have, it was a luxury,鈥 says Cathy Jordan, a professor of pediatrics and consulting director of research for the non-profit Children & Nature Network. 鈥淎nd the nice-to-haves and the luxuries tend to go to the more advantaged,鈥 and tend to be cut first when there are budget deficits.
But as the research 鈥渆xplodes,鈥 Jordan says, one thing has become clear: 鈥淲e should be thinking about this as a necessity for all children.鈥
Wyatt maximizes the park鈥檚 tiny footprint and whatever nature is inside it. He gathers fallen leaves into a pile and jumps into them. He investigates a branch that has snapped off a beleaguered tree. He picks two clover flowers and swoops his arms dramatically as he marches up to his mother, offering this pint-size bouquet to her with a flourish.
A bag that was previously full of crafts becomes stuffed with vibrant red maple leaves and hung from the handle of Wyatt鈥檚 scooter to be brought home.
鈥淲e are at rock capacity. We are at acorn capacity,鈥 Wyatt鈥檚 dad will later say, wearily.
Experiences like this 鈥 unstructured, free-roaming outdoor play, in direct contact with nature 鈥 are so important for children that the writer Richard Louv coined a term to describe its absence: 鈥淣ature-Deficit Disorder.鈥 Louv wasn鈥檛 trying to suggest this was a real medical disorder, but since he came up with the term almost 20 years ago, countless studies have been published that quantify how important nature, parks and green space are to our wellbeing.
The benefits start early: in utero.
In a study of 2.2 million births in Canadian cities, researchers found that mothers who lived in greener areas had lower risks of delivering premature and low-birth-weight babies, outcomes that can have lifelong consequences. The link between greener areas and better birth outcomes persisted regardless of the socioeconomic status of the neighbourhood.
From birth onwards, the benefits of nature keep accruing. In a study of Ontario kindergarteners, children who participated in more lessons outdoors scored higher in self-regulation. Other studies have found that merely being able to view green space from a window, either at school or at home, has benefits.
In Canada, and in other countries, green space 鈥 and all the benefits that come with it 鈥 is not distributed equally. Wealthier households tend to have more residential greenness, and white populations across all income levels have 鈥渕arkedly鈥 higher greenness around their homes than any other group, according to Statistics Canada.
This imbalance will have even sharper consequences as climate change exacerbates heat waves, flooding and other extremes, all of which green space helps buffer: trees cool the air, soil absorbs rainwater.
Some emerging research suggests that affording access to green space to all children can help equalize the advantage gap, with low-income kids benefiting the most from these experiences. In a study that had some fourth graders take science lessons outdoors in nature and others inside in classrooms, the scores of kids in the classrooms were influenced by sociodemographic factors, whereas the kids learning outside all benefited equally.
鈥淲hen exposed to the same green environment, kids from economic disadvantage begin to catch up,鈥 says Jordan, adding this finding has 鈥渕ajor, major鈥 policy and urban design implications.
The literature on these benefits is now so substantial that the conversation has turned not to whether nature makes people happier and healthier, but how much is enough: what should we consider a minimum 鈥渄ose鈥?
This question was part of what drove Jared Hanley to co-found NatureQuant, a technology company to help measure people鈥檚 exposure to nature. They created something called NatureScore, which aggregates reams of data to rate the quantity and quality of natural elements for every address in North America.
In Toronto, an address in Riverdale scored 65 out of 100. One in Rosedale scored 95. Wyatt鈥檚 address is among the lowest scoring residential addresses in the entire city: 6.7 out of 100.
鈥淎nything below 20 is pretty nature-deficient,鈥 says Hanley, the CEO and co-founder of NatureQuant.
When he was the city councillor for this ward, Joe Cressy used to hear from his constituents in this pocket about lack of park space 鈥渆ndlessly,鈥 he says. The ward, Spadina-Fort York, has some of the lowest parkland per person and highest population growth.
Only 340 children under age 14 lived in Wyatt鈥檚 area in 2006, according to the census. By 2021, there were over 2,000.

Wyatt with a strawberry from his balcony garden.

Wyatt and his brother鈥檚 rock tumbler. The toddler sometimes gathers bits of nature to bring home. "We are at rock capacity. We are at acorn capacity," says his dad.

Wyatt's toys.

Wyatt's toys.
As the dad of a young kid, Cressy says he gets it: 鈥淲hen the wading pools close on September 1, I鈥檓 like, uggghhhh,鈥 he says.
鈥淎s a resident of a city, I think parks and community centres are where community is built. In the absence of shared public space, we鈥檙e nothing more than individual household units behind closed doors,鈥 says Cressy, who is now a senior vice-president at George Brown College.
Finding ways to create new parks was both exciting and frustrating, he says.
Exciting because councillors and staff often had to flex their creativity in carving out green spaces. In 2019, the city initiated a series of manoeuvres 鈥 relocating a fire station, selling the land, using the proceeds to buy a parking lot 鈥 to create a new park at 229 Richmond St. W. The site of the Gardiner Expressway鈥檚 old York-Bay-Yonge off-ramp is now a park, and a chunk of pier at the bottom of Rees Street is about to be. There鈥檚 also the Bentway, a not-for-profit partnership that has converted dismal areas underneath the Gardiner into public spaces.
But frustrating, because their larger ambitions were often stymied. The proposed Rail Deck Park, which would have created a 20-acre legacy green space overtop the railway corridor south of Front Street and west of Blue Jays Way, was effectively killed when a provincial tribunal ruled that developers were allowed to build more condos and office towers over the area instead. Property prices punish the city, too: millions of dollars in a fund for new parkland don鈥檛 buy much downtown.
The City of Toronto鈥檚 2019 Parkland Strategy emphasizes that while these spaces are integral to the wellbeing of residents, population growth and densification are putting pressure on the system. If no new parkland is acquired, the amount available per person will drop 14 per cent by 2033, with the worst impacts felt in high-growth areas that are already deficient.
Leafy, vegetated spaces, both public and private, are already being eaten away. Statistics Canada recently released a national analysis that showed Toronto鈥檚 average greenness was almost 12 per cent lower when comparing the most recent five-year period to the period 18 years earlier.
All major urban centres lost greenness, with the biggest loser being Milton, one of the fastest growing communities in Canada. Milton dropped more than 30 per cent.
Developers are required to pay fees or set aside space to create parkland, a way to ensure that new housing is embedded in healthy communities. The industry disliked the system and lobbied for changes, and in recent years, the Ford government introduced a flurry of changes affecting that fee system and much more 鈥 changes that cities and planners say will result in less and lower-quality new parkland.
鈥淵es there鈥檚 a need for new housing to support the growth in population, and particularly affordable housing,鈥 says Dave Harvey, co-executive director of Park People. 鈥淏ut these have to be part of well-built communities. If we鈥檙e building communities that don鈥檛 have parks or libraries or schools or critical infrastructure, we鈥檙e actually building these communities to fail in the long run.鈥

On the way home to his condominium, Wyatt stops his scooter dead in its tracks and urgently directs his mom鈥檚 attention upward: a huge, chattering flock of birds has alighted on a billboard outside the Rogers Centre.
鈥淲ow,鈥 she says. 鈥淚s that your buffalo for today?鈥
This is a game the family plays: 鈥渉igh, low, buffalo,鈥 identifying the best thing, worst thing, and most surprising thing that happened that day.
When Wyatt鈥檚 parents are asked what their high, low and buffalo are for living deep downtown, both think carefully.
Wyatt鈥檚 mom鈥檚 buffalo is that they are still here at all: neither of them thought they鈥檇 be raising two kids in a condo. They explored moving, but were stymied by Toronto鈥檚 ludicrous housing market and their reluctance to compete all over again for limited daycare spots. They spent three years on the wait-list for the one the kids go to now.
They also genuinely enjoy living here. Their 鈥渉igh鈥 is being in the centre of the action, where they can walk, bike and take transit to so many things. Experiences that would be a treat for most GTA kids are an everyday reality for theirs.
Ripley鈥檚 Aquarium in particular is like their backyard, Wyatt鈥檚 mom says: the kids have essentially grown up here and know animals by name, including Chewy and Spot the sea turtles and a slippery green moray eel they call 鈥淎vocado Guy.鈥
Their low is that the neighbourhood doesn鈥檛 always love them back. The area seems better equipped for office workers, tourists 鈥 even dogs.
The interior courtyard at Wyatt鈥檚 building has a larger off-leash area for dogs than its small play area for children.
鈥淧eople say, oh my god, you鈥檙e raising kids in downtown Toronto?鈥 Wyatt鈥檚 dad says.
When he first moved here, the elevators were jammed with college students going for beers. Now it鈥檚 mostly jammed with families carrying strollers and bikes.
鈥淚鈥檓 not the only one. There鈥檚 lots of us.鈥
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