MANITOULIN—On a quiet evening in her home on Manitoulin Island, Kim Robinson sits at her kitchen table, her hands wrapped around a cup of tea, worry etched into her face. Her daughter, Alana Harris, is 30 years old and has special needs, yet she remains on a five-year waitlist for group home services.
“What happens if something happens to me?” Ms. Robinson asks, her voice catching. “Where will Alana go? Who will take care of her? Right now, I can manage, but what about five years from now? Ten years? We need a plan, but there’s no funding, no housing, no options.”
It’s a question that haunts many families on the Island and across Ontario as over 52,000 people with developmental disabilities remain stranded on waitlists for critical support services. The lack of government funding has turned what should be a safety net into a web of uncertainty, forcing parents like Ms. Robinson to make unimaginable sacrifices.
A System Under Strain
Across the province, families are struggling with a developmental services system that is buckling under decades of neglect. Since 1993, Ontario’s core funding to support agencies has increased by less than seven percent, while the cost of living has soared by more than 60 percent. The consequences are devastating: families drained by financial strain, individuals unable to access essential care, and community organizations pushed beyond their limits.
Adrienne Farquhar-Kuula, executive director of Community Living Manitoulin, has witnessed the crisis firsthand. “We have 1,500 people in the Northeast region waiting for group home spots and community supports. The need is overwhelming, but the funding just isn’t there. We don’t even have the housing available—there’s nowhere for people to go.”
She explains how the housing crisis on Manitoulin worsens the situation. “We don’t have rental spots available. We don’t have homes under $500,000. Even if we could buy a home and modify it for group housing, we’d need a sprinkler system, make the building fully accessible, which costs hundreds of thousands of dollars. Where is that money supposed to come from?”
On Manitoulin, where services are already scarce due to the Island’s rural nature, the impact is particularly harsh. There is no public transit, no accessible transportation, and a severe lack of rental housing. Even if families wanted to secure independent living spaces for their loved ones, the costs are astronomical.
The Human Cost of Inaction
Alana used to thrive at her day program with Community Living, but when COVID-19 hit, everything changed.
“For a whole year, she had nowhere to go. Then another year passed because there wasn’t enough staff. The isolation created so much separation anxiety,” Ms. Robinson recalled. “She was getting used to a routine, used to being around others. Then suddenly, she was just home with me, and it was so hard on her. We had to start new medications, get referrals—it was heartbreaking.”
Ms. Farquhar-Kuula expands on the impact the pandemic had on services. “All our day programs were shut down. We couldn’t gather, and a lot of individuals struggled with masks and distancing. People like Alana were stuck at home, and their families had to take on full-time caregiving without support. And when we reopened? There weren’t enough staff to bring everyone back right away.”
The situation echoes across the Island. Without access to proper care, many individuals experience regression in their development. Some end up in hospitals or long-term care homes, places ill-equipped to meet their needs. Others rely entirely on aging parents who are terrified about what will happen when they are no longer able to provide care.
“People shouldn’t have to live in crisis just because they have disabilities,” Ms. Farquhar-Kuula told The Expositor, ”but that’s what’s happening. We have people living in long-term care homes who don’t belong there. We have people in hospitals who shouldn’t be there. But we have no other options.”
A Broken Promise
The Ontario government launched ‘Journey to Belonging: Choice and Inclusion’ in 2020, a 10-year initiative aimed at improving autonomy and independence for people with disabilities. However, without proper funding, the initiative remains more aspiration than reality.
Chris Beesley, CEO of Community Living Ontario, sums up the frustration: “You can create a vision, but unless you put resources behind it, it’s meaningless.”
Ms. Farquhar-Kuula is cautiously optimistic about the program. “The idea is to move away from group homes and into more independent living and it is a great one. But how do we staff nine separate locations when we can barely staff two group homes? How do we pay for rent, utilities, and food for all these people when the funding hasn’t changed?”
Families like KMs. Robinson’s don’t have another 10 years to wait. “We need solutions now,” she says. “We need more housing, more staff, more services—because right now, we’re just surviving.”
How the Community Can Help
Despite the challenges, Community Living Manitoulin continues to fight for better support. Fundraising efforts have ramped up, and local businesses are being asked to contribute through donations, discounts, or volunteering services.
“We need people to know who we are and what we do,” says Ms. Farquhar-Kuula. “We used to be called Hope Farm, and people didn’t even know what we provided. Now that we’ve rebranded, we’re reaching out more. But it’s not enough—we need the community to step up.”
“One of the best ways is to donate—either money or time. Businesses can offer their services at a discount. We have two group homes that need new roofs, which will cost over $100,000. That money isn’t in our base funding from the ministry. We need to apply for grants, and even then, we aren’t guaranteed to get them.”
For now, Ms. Robinson continues to advocate for Alana and for the thousands of others like her. But the weight shouldn’t fall on families alone. It’s time for Ontario to step up and ensure that people with developmental disabilities aren’t left behind.
For those willing to help, Community Living Manitoulin is welcoming donations and support. The Island’s most vulnerable citizens are counting on it.
