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‘I thought the DTES was broken. I was wrong.’

By Aryan Chambyal, Megaphone Magazine, Local Journalism Initiative Reporter

“Gastown has beautiful Victorian buildings with chic eateries and souvenir stores. Don’t wander into the Downtown Eastside though. It’s dangerous and full of druggies.”

I came across this Reddit comment while looking for sightseeing spots in Vancouver. It was my introduction to the Downtown Eastside (DTES).

When I moved to Vancouver from Mumbai in 2022, this is all I knew about the DTES. Then, someone who I lived with casually brought it up once, calling the neighbourhood “poor and full of homeless people.”

This description stuck with me. Later, I read articles that reaffirmed everything I had heard. The media coverage focused on homelessness, crime and substance use. The message was clear: the DTES was a place of despair.

However, during my lectures at the University of British Columbia, where I was enrolled as a student in the Master of Journalism program, we were told that unethical journalism was a major factor contributing to this pervasive stereotype of the neighbourhood. That message didn’t stick with me long. Only a few days later, my bus passed through East Hastings and Main, and my first impression was just like the stories I had read — a neighbourhood filled with people in distress. I thought the DTES was broken.

A ‘shift’ in perspective

In the summer of 2023, I landed an opportunity to intern as a journalism student for three months at Megaphone, with support from the UBC Learning Exchange (UBCLE), both of which are located in the heart of the DTES. The work entailed supporting an ethical journalism project that was a collaboration between UBC School of Journalism, Writing and Media, UBCLE and Megaphone.

 I looked forward to the role, and a part of me was curious about working in this notorious neighbourhood that I had read so much about.

On my first day, a staff member at UBCLE invited me to go for a walk to visit 10 art galleries in the DTES.

Art galleries here? And there are 10 of them? My skepticism was quickly shut down as I went from gallery to gallery, viewing incredible pieces from Indigenous craftspeople, queer art and work by women. It was clear the neighbourhood had a rich artistic core.

A week into my internship, I met The Shift peer newsroom at Megaphone magazine, a team of 14 peer journalists who work like any community newsroom — brainstorming stories, taking on assignments and meeting deadlines.

 My first time meeting this diverse group of individuals showed me everything I did not read about. This “broken neighbourhood” was home to incredibly intelligent, sharp and hilarious journalists, with their own style of writing, editing and photography. They embodied the perspective: “Don’t write about us, without us,” to paraphrase a local saying.

That day, I spoke to Shift journalist David Deocera. He had the warmest energy, immediately calming my social awkwardness. We talked about him visiting Mumbai, my hometown city. He shared stories about his background. 

He was the first person with lived experience in the DTES whom I had actually met, and I realized that my perception of this neighbourhood was misconstrued by what I had read in mainstream media. I needed to listen to those from here in order to “shift” my perspective.

Learning from real life

At the first workshop for our project, The Shift, Megaphone Editorial Director Paula Carlson and UBCLE Communications Specialist Geoff D’Auria gathered to discuss journalism in the DTES. 

Using real examples, we explored how several stories about the DTES didn’t include a voice from the neighbourhood; how journalists come into the community, stick a microphone in someone’s face and leave to write their stories, never to be heard from again; and how some reporters interview people, regardless of whether the person is able to give informed consent, or with no regard as to how the interview could cause them harm. Those stories further stigmatize the community.

After three months, when I was offered the chance to continue the work, I accepted without hesitation. My perception of the neighbourhood had completely changed. 

Yes, the DTES has problems. It faces systemic challenges, oppression and stigmatization by biased media and political narratives. But it also brims with art and culture. It has resilience and advocacy. And it boasts an incredible sense of community.

I spent more than a year working with The Shift. Our workshop sessions formed the core of a larger project, Shift Happens — a set of guidelines for both student and professional journalists, schools and working newsrooms to consider when reporting on marginalized populations.

I learned that practising ethical journalism involves a lot more than writing “sexy” headlines and one-dimensional narratives; it is about going beneath the surface. It means talking to sources trusted by the community, becoming trauma-informed, being aware of my own biases and actively destigmatizing stereotypes through my stories.

The journalists whom I admire — Julie Chapman, Nicolas Crier and the rest of The Shift — do that through their work. They don’t just write about the neighbourhood, they represent it.

The Downtown Eastside isn’t broken. The way its stories are being told is what needs to be fixed.  

Top image credit: A Master of Journalism student at the University of British Columbia had his skepticism transformed by experiencing the rich culture and ‘incredibly intelligent, sharp and hilarious’ people of the Downtown Eastside. – Photo by Mike McNeeley / The Shift.

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