The weight of the grocery bags pulled at Jason’s arms as he walked toward the community garden behind Toronto Metropolitan University’s Student Center. “Five years ago, I’d have been embarrassed to be here,” the third-year nursing student told me as we surveyed the neat rows of vegetables. “Now it feels like everyone I know uses the campus food bank or helps with the garden. It’s just how we survive.”
Jason isn’t alone. Nearly 40% of post-secondary students in Toronto report experiencing some form of food insecurity, according to a 2023 survey by Feed Ontario. This represents a troubling 12% increase from pre-pandemic levels.
As tuition fees continue climbing alongside Toronto’s crushing housing costs, students across the city are turning to community-based solutions to address what many describe as a silent crisis.
“We’re seeing record numbers at campus food banks,” explains Safia Ibrahim, coordinator of the University of Toronto’s Student Food Collective. “In March alone, we served over 1,200 students – double what we saw last year.”
The collective operates three food bank locations across U of T’s downtown campus, with distribution days that now regularly see lines forming an hour before doors open. What began as emergency support has evolved into a critical food source for many students.
Ibrahim notes a shift in who’s accessing services. “It’s not just international students or those from lower-income backgrounds anymore. We’re seeing domestic students whose parents have good jobs, students with part-time work – the rising costs are hitting everyone.“
At York University, the situation mirrors this citywide trend. Campus food bank usage increased 34% over the past academic year, according to internal tracking data shared by student services.
“Students are making impossible choices,” says Michael Chen, York Federation of Students vice-president. “Do I buy textbooks or groceries this month? Can I afford both rent and food? These aren’t questions anyone should face while trying to get an education.”
The growing crisis has sparked grassroots responses across Toronto campuses. Community gardens, once viewed primarily as educational spaces, have transformed into practical food sources.
At the Toronto Metropolitan University garden where I met Jason, students harvest nearly 900 kilograms of fresh produce annually. The vegetables – everything from kale and tomatoes to culturally significant crops like callaloo and bok choy – go directly to the campus food bank and community kitchen.
“We’ve redesigned our growing plans based on student feedback,” explains garden coordinator Priya Sharma. “Students told us they wanted foods that reflected Toronto’s diversity, things they actually know how to cook with limited equipment in residence.”
The garden also provides educational workshops on small-space growing, preserving techniques, and budget-friendly cooking. Last semester, over 300 students participated in these skill-building sessions.
Similar initiatives have taken root at Humber College, where converted greenhouses now produce fresh greens year-round for their food security program. Seneca College recently expanded their community garden spaces by 40%, responding to increased demand.
Campus food banks themselves have evolved beyond the traditional model. Many now operate as “food centers,” offering multiple services beyond emergency hampers.
“We run community kitchens twice weekly where students cook together and share meals,” explains Ibrahim. “We’ve got a free farmers market during harvest season and workshops on stretching food budgets. It’s about dignity and community, not just charity.”
This holistic approach represents an important evolution in addressing campus food insecurity. Research published in the Canadian Journal of Higher Education suggests that community-based models create better outcomes than traditional charity approaches.
“Students helping students creates networks of support that address the social isolation that often accompanies food insecurity,” notes Dr. Amina Thompson, who studies food security at Ryerson University. “When you’re growing food together or sharing cooking skills, you’re building community while addressing immediate needs.”
Despite these impressive student-led efforts, advocates emphasize that institutional and governmental responses remain inadequate.
“We’re essentially running professional-level food banks with volunteer student labor,” says Chen from York. “The universities acknowledge the problem but aren’t funding solutions at the scale needed.”
Student advocates point to several systemic factors driving campus food insecurity: stagnant student aid amounts despite inflation, international student tuition fees that have doubled at many institutions over the past decade, and housing costs that consume upwards of 70% of student budgets in many cases.
The Canada Student Loans Program hasn’t substantially increased food allowances in its needs assessment since 2004. For eight months of study, the program allocates approximately $290 monthly for food – an amount that nutritionists say falls far short of covering a basic healthy diet in Toronto.
“The system assumes parental support or sufficient work hours alongside full-time study,” explains Thompson. “That model doesn’t reflect reality for many students today.”
Back at the community garden, Jason shows me the herbs he’s helping grow for the community kitchen’s weekly meal program. “My mom works two jobs back home and still sends me money when she can. I work part-time too, but it’s never enough in this city.”
He gestures toward the busy garden where a dozen students are weeding, watering, and harvesting. “This place – it’s not just about the food. It’s knowing you’re not alone in struggling. We’re figuring it out together.”
As another academic year approaches, campus food security programs are preparing for what many predict will be unprecedented demand. While the student-led initiatives demonstrate remarkable resilience and community spirit, they also highlight a growing crisis that threatens educational accessibility.
“Students shouldn’t have to choose between textbooks and groceries,” Ibrahim tells me as we finish our conversation. “But until something changes at the policy level, we’ll be here, growing what we can and sharing what we have.”
In gardens and food banks across Toronto campuses, students are indeed helping students – creating solutions in the face of challenges that show no signs of easing.
