This First Person column is the experience of Jeanine Williams, who lives in Lethbridge, Alta. For more information about CBC’s First Person stories, please see the FAQ.
My boyfriend and I rounded the last corner on our way to Calgary Chinatown’s lantern festival and froze. The delicate glow of the lanterns was beautiful but the street was packed with a slowly shuffling sea of people.
Our excitement faded.
“Should we still go?” he asked, with eyebrows raised.
We dove in anyway, bought snacks from a booth and snapped a few pictures. But the sensory overload was too much. After one pass, we ducked out behind the food trucks and headed back home.
This is what Calgary often feels like these days. It’s become a bustling urban centre. But where some may see vibrancy, I want my space and feel like I have to constantly worry about being in someone’s way.
The Calgary of my childhood was half the size. That was the 1990s and the population was just 750,000. There was a small-town feel with a slower pace of life, more affordability, a sense of connection and easy access to nature.
There were few crowds. My family would visit the Glenbow Museum, where my sister and I would share a museum worker’s attention with only one or two other kids as they taught us crafting like felt or stained glass art. I’d get a nod as I passed people on a sidewalk and chatting with someone at stores was normal. I used to love just drifting through the grocery store and picking up whatever called my name. We could get away to the mountains on a weekend with no advance planning. In nearby Banff or Kananaskis, my family would hike or picnic without fighting traffic and we’d easily find parking. I loved it.
I moved away for school in my 20s and talked about my hometown as a hidden gem. I first studied music in Lethbridge and Ottawa, then performed in cities across Canada before moving to Austria in hopes of furthering my operatic career.
When I came back to Calgary in 2019 to study counselling, I hoped to settle here again for the long term. But even then, it didn’t feel the same. Calgary had grown, and it was starting to feel more rushed and crowded.
The population of Alberta grew at four per cent over the past year to a total of 4.7 million people — a faster rate than any other province. But experts say the influx of people is driving housing prices higher and raising questions about whether the province can handle such rapid growth.
The pandemic didn’t help. At that point, just going to a grocery store felt like bracing for an obstacle course and that increased tension never left.
But the surge in Calgary’s population means the shops and aisles in most grocery stores still feel more crowded as I search for the shortest line at the cashier and try not to block the flow of traffic while I wait.
Calgary’s population is now close to 1.5 million; it grew six per cent in 2023.
I love the increased cultural diversity, but I wish it wasn’t so busy. With how quickly everything changed, I feel the city doesn’t know who it is anymore; it feels unstable and performative.
Plus the city got a lot more expensive. Three years ago, rent for my one-bedroom apartment jumped 20 per cent with just 39 days’ notice. I moved back in with my dad instead.
Gradually I realized Calgary’s charm for me was fading. As I approached my graduation, I started thinking of moving back to a small city in Europe or to the Maritimes.
Then one weekend, I decided to get out of the city and clear my head. I booked an Airbnb in a tiny home created out of an old grain bin just outside Lethbridge, a two-hour drive south of Calgary. It was beautiful, quiet and at the grocery store in Lethbridge, I felt a moment of warmth when someone complimented my shoes. A simple, authentic connection, just like old times.
Soon, I was checking local rentals and real estate. One four-bedroom house was listed for $300,000.
“This is insane,” I said to my boyfriend.
“Yeah, but then you’d have to live in Lethbridge,” he said dismissively.
For me, it was worth it. I started applying for jobs and within a month, I got a job offer to be a school counsellor in a small town just outside Lethbridge and I lined up a place to rent in the city.
My relationship wouldn’t survive the move, but on my next trip down, I knew I made the right choice. I stopped by the Japanese Gardens in Lethbridge. I walked down the quiet paths, heard the water bubbling and the gentle wind in the trees. There were only a few other people in the park. No one was in anyone’s way. I could just breathe.
I understand why Calgary has grown so fast. I just wish growth could be better managed and didn’t feel so suffocating, squishy or divisive. I want to live and let live. I want a simpler, more connected life. And I’m hoping I’ll find that, just two hours from friends and loved ones, in my new hidden gem — Lethbridge.
Growth Spurt, Calgary
Calgary is growing again and quickly. But this population boom is different. CBC Calgary has been looking at the impacts all week. See what you’ve missed at cbc.ca/yycgrowth.
