Garry Green kicked off 24 hours of consecutive campaigning late Friday night with a streak of conversations with drunken revelers, fatigued shift workers and York University bookworms -- with his fuel provided by the Tim Hortons at Jane and Finch. But, as the candidate nears the end of his marathon, he’s seeking attention from the toughest crowd yet. Politicians aren’t a common sight on the Saturday night-drop in scene at the Oakdale Community Centre on Grandravine Dr., where little kids are bouncing off the walls past 9 p.m., older kids are dribbling on the basketball court, and pasta and chicken are being dished out of big aluminum trays. The relatively modern facilities provide distraction from the drab high-rise life, yet the accommodations can’t convince kids old enough to vote that the system is on their side, either. Green, who manages employment projects for the Toronto District School Board, decided to take a run for city council after York West mainstay Peter Li Preti voted against childcare subsidies, and wanted to drag the issue of social housing neglect to the forefront. Learning that Li Preti’s campaign donor list runneth over with names of familiar developers and numbered real estate companies provided even more incentive to run. But even after buying a new house in Ward 8, it turned out Green’s wife would be due with their second child days before the election, and he considered saving his energy for next time around. Moreover, the former MPP Anthony Perruzza has been challenging 21-year incumbent Li Preti in each municipal election for the past decade, and decided to try again. Where does that leave a 34-year-old first-timer? Well, a few months ago Green sent a note to John Sewell -- after years of admiring his work before, during and after pursuing a master's degree in public administration -- and was invited to be part of a couple of all-star platform announcements advocating the overhaul of the post-amalgamation system, which has only made Jane-Finch issues more invisible on the municipal scene, unless it related to someone getting shot. And shaking hands while handing out flyers from midnight to midnight, one week prior to voting day, is another campaign tactic that Green’s elder rivals probably wouldn’t have enough stamina for.

Political conversations with the lads spending Saturday night at the community centre aren’t tough for Green to initiate, though. Growing up in the era where hip-hop culture became entrenched in the mainstream, these late teens have an acute sense of rhetoric, and are quick to counter the candidate’s pitch with lucidly dismissive arguments of their own -- involving Freemasons, the Illuminati, and how nobody ever talks about reparations for the black community. "You can’t compare me to what’s been happening over the last 21 years," argues Green, "because I’ve never had the opportunity to change it." But having a voice at city hall isn’t going to have the cachet of words from rap entrepreneur Russell Simmons, who spoke at last month’s local Hip-Hop Summit, plying a few of these guys with his advice on how to make $500 million for themselves. "I don’t think you getting elected is going to change perfectly plotted genocide", one baggy jeaned debunker fires back: "It’s not that we don’t want to vote for you. It’s that we don’t want to vote." Still, despite all the dismissive words about the system -- and aloof attitude that goes along with being amidst peers -- many of these guys can’t conceal their desire to be engaged. Following a vociferous discussion on the basketball court with another skeptic, who shares his cynical worldview between shooting hoops, Green comes away feeling quite satisfied about the impression the impassioned dialogue left behind: "The look on his face told me something entirely different from the words that were coming out of his mouth."

The clock strikes 11, and the final hour of the canvassing streak is dedicated to a walk through the Shoreham Court projects, whose aesthetic shortcomings are at the foundation of Green’s campaign. Last week, he got Citytv to report on a gas leak, after repeated complaints to the Toronto Community Housing Corporation didn’t produce results. The cluster of social houses are detached from the main street, constructed in the 1970s above Black Creek -- which theoretically makes it sound like a point of calm refuge from the urban bustle, except for the fact that emergency vehicles can’t readily enter the space, and raccoons, skunks and snakes have become especially fond of dropping into living rooms. The surveillance cameras and penitentiary-style bright lights don’t help with the ambiance either, not to mention the basketball court whose "hoop" consists of a plank attached to a skinny orphaned tree. "Growing up here means that you can only retreat into yourself," reflects Green. "There’s a certain pride that goes along with surviving that, but after you’ve been inside this electric fence for so long, it doesn’t create any motivation to strive beyond it." A sense of community has been fostered, where residents often look after one another, yet there never seems to be enough on the city hall agenda dedicated to looking after them -- even if Mayor David Miller has pledged to inject such "at-risk" neighbourhoods with $28 million, a figure that may not add up to much in the grand scheme. "I have to admit," concludes the contentedly sleep-deprived Green, "that the last thing that’s been on my mind over the past 24 hours is what we should be doing about the Gardiner Expressway now."

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As seen on St. Clair: The photographs by Krystyna Henke, documenting the protests against a dedicated streetcar-right-of-way, have been given a hanging at Tricolore Bar & Cafe (1240 St. Clair Ave. W.) through Nov. 20, following cancellations at two other area venues.