nick

It wasn’t long ago I wasn’t allowed past this gate. I was on the outside. Not even in the building. I was back working in trucking and road-building, putting in long hours like so many British Columbians do. And I used to look at this place and wonder what was going on inside these walls that affected my life so deeply. Inflation. Crime. Housing. What’s being taught to our kids in schools. Decisions made in here were shaping everything out there. And I made a decision. I wasn’t going to just complain about it. I was going to step up and do something about it. Now, in a few hours, I’ll be walking in for my second Budget Speech as your MLA for Langley-Abbotsford. That’s not something I take lightly. I’m here to bring transparency. To bring accountability. To make sure the people who aren’t in this building still know what’s happening inside it. Because most British Columbians don’t hear every bill. They don’t see every amendment. They don’t sit through every debate. But they live with the consequences. I carry a real sense of responsibility for that. I didn’t get into politics for a title. I got into politics to represent the people who were standing outside that gate, just like I once was. And I will never forget where I came from. The road that got me here. Or who I work for.

Canada’s young people are now being called the unhappiest generation. But in British Columbia, we can see exactly why. This is the price of policy failure. Here in B.C. wages have not kept up — not even close. Minimum wage went up, but most other wages didn’t. Trades, entry-level careers, and middle-income jobs stayed flat while housing, groceries, fuel, insurance, tuition, and interest rates exploded. Buying power didn’t just shrink — it collapsed. At the same time, the David Eby government pushed a one-size-fits-all housing model that ignored how people actually live. Housing is the breaking point. The province aggressively pushed the build-out of small, ultra-dense high-rises — 400- to 500-square-foot units — insisting this is what young people wanted. But for most, those units were never meant to be long-term homes. At best, they were temporary rentals, not places to put down roots. Young Canadians grew up in neighbourhoods and communities. They want the chance to build the same — space to live, to grow, and eventually to plan for the next stage of life. Packing people tighter into smaller boxes doesn’t replace that it just lowers expectations. And here’s the part no one wants to admit: In B.C., this approach oversupplied the market with tiny condos, while driving up the price of townhomes and single-family housing by choking off supply everywhere else. Then the government pulled the rug out. After telling developers “build this,” the province removed the short-term rental option that had made many of these units financially workable in the first place. Once that option disappeared, owners were forced into long-term rentals or resale — and demand simply wasn’t there. The fallout was immediate: • People started losing money • Units sat empty • Prices fell — in some cases below 2016 pre-sale levels • Developers were stuck • Projects stalled or were cancelled That’s not smart housing policy. That’s policy whiplash — and it hurt renters, buyers, and the people who actually build homes. Rent still eats half a paycheque. Homeownership still feels impossible. Saving still feels out of reach. Starting a family still feels financially reckless. This isn’t a lack of ambition. It’s a lack of realistic options. Young Canadians aren’t asking for luxury. They’re asking for a future that resembles the life they were raised to believe was possible. This didn’t happen by accident. In British Columbia, it happened because of deliberate choices. And until this government gets serious about real wages, diverse housing supply, and communities people actually want to live in, young people will keep feeling stuck, because they are.