In February 2022, I was accepted as an international student for the Year Abroad program at University of Waterloo. It was an exciting period for me, a year of new opportunities and vistas had opened up. Weeks later, searching for affordable accommodation in the Waterloo Kitchener vicinity, my spirits were dampened as it seemed my student loan would not cover a single term at most of these dinky little apartments. And then, looking over UW’s suggested housing I struck gold—or at least copper. I discovered Waterloo Cooperative Residence (WCRI), the only accommodation that I could budget around my pipsqueak loan.
With over 1,300 residents, the Waterloo Co-operative Residence (WCRI) is the largest student cooperative in North America, and has been open ever since 1964. It offers affordable housing for students at the three universities/colleges in the area. Amidst the enduring difficulties of finding affordable student housing in Waterloo Region, it has served as a haven for international students like me—especially in the snuggest budget option, the A-dorms.
I stayed in these A-dorms, the oldest housing option still in use, advertised as ‘traditional dormitory style’. I admit, I was perturbed when I initially reached my room, after two taxing days of travel, and walked into a canny little bomb shelter with a thin single bed doubling as a cupboard, and a medieval wooden desk.
To my eye, accustomed to more flashy English student accommodation, the A-dorms seemed austere and clammy, perhaps suggesting a sanatorium. Kitchens are shared between around 16 people, sticky notes laden with ire are sprinkled across them, decrying those borrowing cutlery. This made me, an especially introverted and moody expat, reluctant to stake out much time cooking.
Later, a Canadian friend on my floor told me their mom had lived in the dormitories decades ago, and they were essentially unchanged in the interim.
Despite, or because of the conditions, there was a genuine sense of camaraderie among many of the other international students. I got to know others on my floor intimately, we bonded in this alienating environment amidst unfamiliar culture.
The dingy dormitory basements became space for meetups and movie nights, a rogue barber even organised haircuts down there (he did not clean up the greasy locks cut, later causing a heated skirmish on the WhatsApp group chat).
For me, the apex of this unorthodox community spirit was the club night, known as the Bunker, organised by and for the students in the basement. The board members—residents volunteering in administration positions—agreed, on the condition that all damages were paid for by the students organising. DJ sets were arranged, banners and fairy lights were strung up; dozens of people crowded into the sweaty basement, and the raw energy of a self-sufficient DIY scene of our creation permeated the night. In the end, this was only organised a few times before damages from non-resident students brought it to a close, but it was one of the most memorable nights of my time on my year abroad, and a singular expression of what a community was capable of within a co-operative.
Though my experience of the WCRI accommodation was partially of rigid functionalism and creakiness, I always found its ethos as a non-profit cooperative inspiring. At the heart of an often exploitative housing market that profits handsomely off students’ desperation for housing, WCRI puts all income from rent back into the accommodation.
I spoke to WCRI’s development manager Erin Larmondin to get a sense of the history and ethos at the heart of the co-operative. WCRI was founded in 1964 as the Waterloo branch of Toronto’s Campus Co-operative Residence Inc. Initially, all work was done by the original 40 residents. In 1966 the co-op built a fourstory dormitory called Dag Hammarskjöld Residence, the first “designated-purpose-builtstudent-accommodation”, or PBSA in North America.
Students were consulted throughout the development process, and the building was built directly for their needs. The building featured three floors named after Chaney, Goodman, and Schwerner—three notable victims of racial violence during the Civil Rights Movement—representing a significant statement of solidarity for the time. Last year the building was sold to the Waterloo region to be a shelter for the homeless—it seems in the nature of WCRI’s youth-driven character to champion progressive causes.
Today, while paid staff deal with the day-to-day operations of WCRI, it is lead unequivocally by its residents. The Board of Directors, composed entirely of democratically elected students and resident alumni, advocate for the long-term future of WCRI. To me, this resident first approach to housing feels extremely radical, a unique form of governance antithetical to the profit-first model for housing that dominates the market.
Erin described how elements that alarmed me, like the 16-person shared kitchen, are sought after by others, those that thrive in shared spaces, that crave dormitory style living where connection with other members is almost guaranteed.
Kitchener MP Mike Morrice recently noted a deeply alarming statistic: between 2011 and 2021, for every new affordable home that got built with the help of government subsidies, 39 affordable homes have disappeared from the Waterloo region.
Lack of rent control, rising cases of renovictions where rent is increased above average wage levels, broader cost of living challenges, all these pose a challenge to current residents and new students alike.
Perhaps, I considered, the cooperative model of housing could offer an alternative from the difficulties of renting amidst the current housing crisis.
WCRI shows that co-operatives are not perfect or easy, they require mature communication and member’s ability to compromise in their shared space. When this is undertaken with humility and passion, there may be serious potential for a uniquely communal space, ripe for cultivating club nights and creative workshops. But like an eight-person polyamorous relationship, this requires a full-time job’s worth of communication, much more than the tense WhatsApp exchanges that traditionally make up shared housing situations.
WCRI holds a special place in my heart; the unconventional housing challenged me to step out of my comfort zone and confront this new world with curiosity. The environment was collaborative and raw, and the possibilities of co-operative housing as an alternative to this fragmenting housing market continue to fascinate me.
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