On a drizzly summer afternoon, the patrons of Toronto鈥檚 Lillian H. Smith library were consumed in their own private worlds.
Under the protective curl of its arched entrance, a man in slippers leaned wearily against the bronze gryphons that flank the door like gargoyles. Inside, an older man carefully studied a newspaper, while a younger woman tucked her knees to her chest to read a children鈥檚 book and staff buzzed throughout the first-floor stacks. A seated man meanwhile battled with himself, whipping his neck around and scratching his arms erratically as he streamed a video aloud.
This day, like any other, visitors came in to study, use the internet or find refuge from the weather 鈥 and whatever the request, the library aimed to accommodate. Beyond its shelves of paperbacks, hardcovers, DVDs and reference materials, this downtown branch offers a pay phone on the ground level and, out of more recent necessity, crisis workers upstairs. Pamphlets point to support for newcomers, directions to shelters and details of food banks.
Here, in one of Toronto鈥檚 few genuine public spaces 鈥 one that鈥檚 free to enter and that doesn鈥檛 mind if you stay for hours 鈥 is an institution trying its best to fill the city鈥檚 cracks.
It鈥檚 on the front lines of the housing crisis, as hundreds are turned away daily from shelters and many seek refuge from extreme weather in library branches. As street drugs have become increasingly toxic, library workers have learned to administer overdose-reversing naloxone. And libraries across the city are seeing, and trying to respond to, the aching reality of people battling serious mental illness without adequate 鈥 or affordable 鈥 access to mental-health care.
鈥淭hose are the types of things you wouldn鈥檛 necessarily think about in libraries,鈥 said Brandon Haynes, president of the 2,100-member 海角社区官网Public Library Workers Union.
But this is the reality of 海角社区官网today, where unchecked social problems are spilling across public spaces. As the city struggles with shelter capacity, hundreds have taken refuge in its emergency rooms. While demand for supportive housing has fallen short, one mental health hospital has seen patients stuck in in-patient wards 鈥 at times, for years 鈥 unable to be discharged. So the library, too, has wound up responding 鈥 by necessity 鈥 to evolving crises.

At a聽海角社区官网Public Library board meeting in January, the union said members need inflation-adjusted wages, benefits that would allow them to “retire in dignity” and help for “unmanageable workloads” and harassment.聽
Andrew Francis Wallace / 海角社区官网StarAs the city鈥檚 woes have grown ever-deeper, the library has faced questions about its own limits, with only so many resources at its disposal 鈥 such as a single social worker across all 100 branches. New efforts like the crisis worker program are currently relying on philanthropy rather than public funding. Staff are feeling the pressure as other drop-in spaces have thinned, and the library鈥檚 rate of violence and other incidents has been climbing.
鈥淭he best thing about the library is that it鈥檚 open and accessible to everybody 鈥 but it鈥檚 also a challenge, because we can鈥檛 do everything,鈥 Haynes cautioned. An ideal library, in his view, is a place where everyone gets the assistance they need 鈥 but that has become an increasingly difficult task.
鈥淲hatever happens in the community trickles over into the library.鈥
No two libraries, by design, are identical; they respond to the needs of their communities. On the same afternoon that users of the Lillian branch felt ensconced in their own quiet worlds, Toronto鈥檚 Thorncliffe library was boisterous, with dozens of kids and teens clustered around crafting tables, browsing the internet or embroiled in video games. A trio of boys burst through the doors, carrying a soccer ball as they beelined for the information desk.
This is one of two dozen 海角社区官网libraries designated as a youth hub, but canvass the city and you鈥檒l see programs vary; in 15 branches, targeted to areas with more newcomers, the library works with agencies to make immigration settlement workers available. A little more than half of branches hand out PRESTO cards; in three locations, you can borrow musical instruments. And for those navigating the job market in a post-pandemic world, the library has started creating space for video interviews, starting with its Malvern and North York Central branches.
鈥淚 think historically, or maybe stereotypically, people would see the library as a nice quiet space where you can come in and read books all day,鈥 Haynes said. But the library, in his view, adapted and evolved to the gaps around it, like offering job search help in recession years.
In an unequal city, the library 鈥 like other public institutions 鈥 also sees acute needs cluster.
Especially downtown, the library can be a critical resource for people weathering homelessness, at a time when shelters are regularly squeezed to capacity. (In July, for example, an average of 239.1 people per day were turned away after calling Toronto鈥檚 central shelter intake team.) That day, in the Lillian branch, a man accompanied by several bags of possessions sat quietly by the window, seemingly trying to be unobtrusive while sipping from a small cup of takeaway soup.
Greg Cook, a downtown outreach worker, said for all his years working in Toronto, the library has been a critical refuge for those with nowhere else to go 鈥 but as the cost of living continued to climb faster than incomes, that need has only grown. That included people who needed to access public bathrooms, or students for whom textbooks were prohibitively pricey.
There are vanishingly few options today where someone can go and simply exist without paying, Cook said. 鈥淲here are people meeting who are different incomes, different races, different cultural backgrounds if not in places like libraries and public parks?鈥 he asked.
But it isn鈥檛 always easy. Sometimes, a person dealing with any number of challenges will arrive in the library in crisis, and it can spill over into conflict with library staff or other patrons.

The Lillian H. Smith library is on the front lines of the housing crisis, as hundreds are turned away daily from shelters and many seek refuge from extreme weather.
Richard Lautens / 海角社区官网StarTake Lillian, for example. The library鈥檚 own statistics show the downtown branch 鈥 located on College Street near Spadina Avenue 鈥 is among the hardest hit by what the library categorizes as 鈥渋ncidents,鈥 which can range from harassing or threatening behaviour to injuries, overdoses and violent or disruptive behaviour. In reports and interviews, the library cautions against blaming all incidents on any one group, noting that while someone may lash out at staff while dealing with a mental health crisis, so might a patron irate over book fines.
鈥淢ost folks who are coming in use our resources 鈥 computers, study rooms, magazines, bathrooms 鈥 quietly, and you would never know that they鈥檙e experiencing a vulnerability,鈥 said Amanda French, the library鈥檚 manager of social development.

Amanda French, 海角社区官网Public Library鈥檚 manager of social development, said most people who use the library鈥檚 resources are quiet. 鈥淵ou would never know that they鈥檙e experiencing a vulnerability,鈥 she said.
Andrew Francis Wallace / 海角社区官网StarStill, the library鈥檚 data shows that areas dealing with other social challenges tend to see higher incident rates. And the problem has been growing. Where the library system overall recorded 6.47 incidents per 100,000 visits in 2005, that rose to more than 35 incidents per 100,000 visits by 2021.
Where only a small portion of incidents are violent 鈥 2.88 of the 35.74 incidents per 100,000 visits in 2021, for example 鈥 the rate of violence has been steadily increasing, and persisted despite fewer visits during COVID-19. Like other social services, the library has found its role more challenging post-pandemic, as drop-in options for vulnerable people seem more sparse.
鈥淚 think the library is just very much an extension of what鈥檚 being felt across all agencies,鈥 French said. 鈥淥ur colleagues in housing, in shelters 鈥 they are getting rocked over there. You鈥檙e feeling that same pressure here: that鈥檚 economical, that鈥檚 mental health, that鈥檚 lack of housing. It鈥檚 just these huge, broad issues that we鈥檙e dealing with as a society and as a city.鈥
Indeed, as shelters have seen more violence in recent years, the surge has been attributed to factors like crowding, inadequate mental health-care and the opioid crisis. To the average Torontonian, these forces are likely most palpable in public spaces. 鈥淲hen the city is doing well, you can feel it,鈥 said Councillor Gord Perks, who until recently sat on the library board.
鈥淎nd when the city is struggling? You can feel it inside a library branch.鈥
Library workers did their best to help anyone who came through the door, Haynes said 鈥 a group that includes not only librarians, but assistants, branch heads, service specialists and pages. But he鈥檚 been troubled by some of the stories he鈥檚 been hearing lately. In the worst cases, the union has recorded incidents of staff spit on, scratched or even punched by visitors.
鈥淭he bottom line is that staff have to be safe. They have to go home in one piece, psychologically and physically, in order to keep everyone else safe,鈥 he said.
Brian Daly, director of Human Resources for the library, described patrons 鈥 in the more severe cases 鈥 hurling slurs, throwing chairs or pushing over computers. But addressing the problem, in his view, wasn鈥檛 as simple as tightening security. 鈥淲e want to be very, very careful that we don鈥檛 create a militarized environment in libraries where people feel people are watching over them.鈥

The written word, and those seeking it, are not the sole focus at the TPL鈥檚 North York Central branch and elsewhere.
Andrew Francis Wallace / 海角社区官网StarThis is the crossroads the library found itself facing in the fall of 2021. That October, the library board was considering a request for more security guards when the discussion pivoted to a trickier question: were there other ways to respond to the issues library staff were seeing?
That question sparked a monthlong review, which pulled together library leadership, the union, board members and community groups to answer a central question. How should the library respond to serious problems 鈥 such as violence against its staff 鈥 while ensuring it did not become a less accessible institution, putting barriers in front of vulnerable people?
It led to an extensive report, which detailed the frustration workers had been harbouring for some time. Staff felt stretched thin, the report said, as the union reported staff shortages were leading to higher rates of absenteeism. While branches relied on community partnerships, the report noted those organizations also battled with underfunding and capacity limits. And it highlighted internal struggles and limitations such as the single social worker employed by the library.
French said that worker was never intended to assist the public 鈥 rather, they were an internal resource for staff, who could assist in processes like referrals. Knowing the library wouldn鈥檛 be able to hire enough social workers to meet the needs of its patrons, French saw it as their best option. 鈥淲e are not social workers, we鈥檙e not experts. So why would we take that on?鈥
To Perks, one takeaway from the review was that the library was being asked to address problems beyond its scope. 鈥淟ibrary staff in the city of 海角社区官网are very skilled in being one of the key front-line services that鈥檚 open to everybody, but the size and complexity of this increased need was beyond what the library was set up to be able to do,鈥 he said.
The report reflected this very concern, noting the library鈥檚 role in addressing Toronto鈥檚 social issues had been expanding as other local programs were either unavailable or overextended. With that, it warned that libraries did face a risk of becoming hot spots for tensions or conflict.
Still, embedded in the report was a caution that the library needed to stay an accessible space for anyone. To Perks, it was a remarkable response. 鈥淭here were incidents of people acting out and real conflict in the library that had been going on for a while 鈥 and we didn鈥檛 just put police on overtime into every branch. We actually thought about how to, in a real way, build safety,鈥 Perks said. 鈥淲e have a duty of care to our employees, but we also have a duty of care to vulnerable patrons 鈥 and how do we meet both of those?鈥
Thousands of kilometres west of Toronto, Edmonton has been grappling with these same questions for more than a decade. The first Canadian library to employ its own social workers back in 2011 鈥 having taken inspiration from the San Francisco Public Library 鈥 the Edmonton Public Library is known in library circles as a place that embraces its broader community role.
At the downtown Stanley A. Milner branch, that means serving as much as a refuge for people without shelter as a place to borrow a book. 鈥淭hat brings both the joy and the beauty of public libraries, and that brings the biggest challenges,鈥 said library system CEO Pilar Martinez.

Edmonton Public Library CEO Pilar Martinez.
Michel Feist / Edmonton Public LibraryToday, the branch offers three full-time social workers, who can be dispatched to other nearby branches as needed. Like in Toronto, the Edmonton branch relies on community partnerships with agencies like Boyle Street Community Services, which maintains an outreach team to help de-escalate security incidents and respond to incidents like overdoses in the library.
The social workers can connect people with subsidized housing, or help with obtaining new ID cards. They provide referrals to other agencies if a patron is dealing with domestic violence, food insecurity or health issues, and can help someone get to appointments. But sometimes, their social workers are simply providing a listening ear.
That was a powerful draw. Charlene Johnson, one of the downtown location鈥檚 social workers, knows some people come in simply 鈥渒nowing they鈥檙e going to be heard,鈥 noting that unless someone was causing a real disturbance or fell asleep, the workers leave patrons undisturbed.
But despite the decade-plus of ironing out its system, Edmonton has also been struggling since the pandemic, Martinez said. In 2022, safety incidents were up 22 per cent compared to 2019, and up to this point of 2023, they鈥檙e up 35 per cent compared to pre-pandemic numbers.
So the Edmonton library system, too, is now tasked with finding a path forward that balances the library鈥檚 ideals as a community hub with putting too much pressure on its staff.
鈥淲e absolutely want to be part of the solution. I think what鈥檚 happening now, though, some of the things are beyond our scope,鈥 Martinez cautioned.
And it鈥檚 a refrain she鈥檚 hearing across the map 鈥 from colleagues in Calgary, Saskatoon and Toronto. 鈥淲hat you see in public libraries is really mirroring what鈥檚 happening in our society.鈥
Back in Toronto, last year鈥檚 safety review concluded that a wide slate of actions was needed, with security in branches being just one component of a much broader strategy. There needed to be better training for staff in areas like crisis prevention, it said, but also other professionals brought in to lighten the load on library workers. The recommendations included participating in a citywide crisis pilot that provided an alternative to police enforcement, as well as new library-specific pilots to bring in community health and social workers.
This July, the library began rolling out a pilot project in four downtown branches, concentrating especially on Lillian and the reference library. Working with the Gerstein Crisis Centre, it offers low-barrier mental health and crisis support inside the building 鈥 and French has high hopes.
Where library workers鈥 role ends at the door, she said the Gerstein workers could, for example, walk with a patron to a coffee shop to de-escalate a situation. That in-depth assistance was already paying off, French said, citing cases of refugees assisted in finding shelter or people connected with medical care. In some cases, Daly said it has also made it possible to consider rescinding library bans 鈥 applied when a patron violates conduct rules 鈥 earlier than expected.
But crisis workers aren鈥檛 available all the time, with the Lillian branch advertising 11 a.m. to 7 p.m. hours on Tuesdays and Thursdays, plus every other Saturday from 9 a.m. to 4 p.m. And in a financially strapped city, these kinds of initiatives 鈥 at the library and elsewhere 鈥 often rely on private donations rather than public funding, at least in their infancy.
Where the pilot is funded via the library foundation, French said the idea is to eventually show its outcomes to city hall in a bid for longer-term money. 鈥淭he challenge these days, as you know, is the severe funding challenges and lack of funding from other levels of government.鈥
Overall, she sees the program as one that recognizes the library cannot be everything for everyone. 鈥淲e鈥檙e trying to build our capacity to be the resource that people want us to be, which is everything,鈥 French said. 鈥淲e鈥檙e not going to be, and that鈥檚 OK. I think we just need to find a way to fill that need, and to respond to that need, without trying to become that person.鈥
Looking to the library鈥檚 future, Haynes sees it now 鈥 as ever before 鈥 as a resource.
鈥淭here are so many challenges the city is facing, and the library is a great place to visit to get help,鈥 he said. While he doesn鈥檛 see them as able to fill every gap, his hope is to see the institution focus on basic values 鈥 creating a space that is as safe as it is welcoming.
鈥淎 perfect library is a place where everyone gets the help they need.鈥
Victoria Gibson is a Toronto-based reporter for the Star covering affordable housing. Reach her via email: victoriagibson@thestar.ca
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