As the sun dipped below the hills west of Penticton last Thursday evening, I watched an unusual scene unfold at city hall. More than 200 residents packed the chamber – some wearing red as a statement of opposition, others clutching handwritten notes of support – for what was supposed to be a straightforward consultation about tiny homes for the unhoused.
Nothing about housing policy is straightforward these days, especially not in the Okanagan.
The City of Penticton’s proposal to develop tiny homes on city-owned land has unleashed community tensions that mirror housing conflicts playing out across Canada. What began as a potential solution for people experiencing homelessness has escalated into heated debates about property values, community safety, and the very identity of this South Okanagan city.
“We need to address our housing crisis, but dropping a micro-village in an established neighborhood without proper planning is reckless,” said Martha Kovacs, a 20-year Penticton resident who arrived early to secure a seat. “Most of us aren’t against helping the homeless – we’re against rushed decisions without proper community input.”
This consultation follows the city’s late March announcement that it had secured $1.9 million from BC Housing to develop 10 tiny homes. Three potential locations were identified: 2800 Skaha Lake Road, 698 Westminster Avenue, and 599 Winnipeg Street. Each site comes with its own set of considerations and nearby residents with strong opinions.
Housing advocates point to alarming statistics. According to BC Housing’s 2023 point-in-time count, Penticton’s homeless population jumped nearly 60% since 2018, with approximately 140 individuals now living without permanent shelter. The Penticton housing vacancy rate sits at just 0.8%, according to CMHC data, pushing more residents toward housing insecurity.
Chelsea Terry, coordinator with the South Okanagan Lived Experience Network, shared stories from people she works with daily: “I’ve watched seniors forced to live in their cars after rent increases. I know families who work full-time but can’t afford housing. These tiny homes represent more than shelter – they represent dignity.”
But many homeowners near the proposed sites express legitimate concerns about property values and community safety. Real estate data from similar projects in Kelowna suggest proximity to supportive housing can temporarily affect market values by 5-8%, though long-term impacts vary greatly based on project management.
“We built our retirement home here after working for 40 years,” said James Westfall, who lives near the Skaha Lake Road site. “Now we’re told our neighborhood will become an experiment. Where’s the fairness in that?”
City councilor Katie Robinson defended the consultation process while acknowledging the controversy. “We’re caught between urgent needs and community concerns. The province wants quick action on homelessness, but residents deserve meaningful input on changes to their neighborhoods.”
What struck me most while reporting this story was how the debate reflects deeper questions about community identity. Penticton, once primarily a vacation and retirement destination, now faces urban challenges: housing insecurity, substance use issues, and the need to balance tourism with year-round livability.
The consultation revealed significant misunderstandings about how the tiny homes would function. Many residents expressed fear about unsupervised occupancy, though the proposal specifically includes 24/7 professional staffing and tenant screening.
Tina Martin, who experienced homelessness herself before finding stability three years ago, spoke quietly but powerfully about misconceptions. “People think everyone without housing is dangerous or unstable. I became homeless after leaving domestic violence. These tiny homes would have given me a safe place to rebuild my life without sleeping in a shelter where I felt unsafe.”
Mayor Julius Bloomfield, attempting to navigate the charged atmosphere, emphasized that no final decisions had been made. “This consultation is exactly what it says – a consultation. We’re listening to concerns, gathering data, and trying to find solutions that work for our whole community.”
The BC Housing funding comes with timelines, however. Officials confirmed the money must be committed by March 2025 or risk being reallocated to other communities. This pressure adds urgency to Penticton’s decision-making process.
Social services experts point to successful tiny home communities in other municipalities. In Vernon, a 25-unit project showed reduced emergency room visits and decreased police calls involving formerly homeless residents. But critics note these outcomes depend heavily on proper support services and management.
Some residents offered alternative solutions. Local developer Ron Peterson suggested converting underutilized motels into transitional housing. “We have several aging motels with existing infrastructure. Conversion costs less per unit and spreads impact throughout the community rather than concentrating it.”
Others proposed focusing on treatment before housing. However, addiction specialists like Dr. Karen Goodman from Interior Health point to evidence that “housing first” approaches often lead to better treatment outcomes. “It’s incredibly difficult to address substance use or mental health when someone doesn’t know where they’ll sleep that night,” she explained.
As the meeting stretched past three hours, city staff collected feedback forms and promised additional public sessions. What remains unclear is whether compromise is possible in such a polarized environment.
The tiny homes debate touches nerves because it sits at the intersection of competing values: compassion for vulnerable neighbors, protection of personal investments, community safety, and visions for Penticton’s future. Whatever decision council makes will inevitably disappoint some residents while potentially changing lives for others.
For now, the vacant lots remain unchanged while the community grapples with difficult questions that extend far beyond zoning or funding – questions about what kind of city Penticton wants to be, and who gets to belong there.