Dear Hamilton is a project started by Ignite News to let residents of the city speak for themselves.  Here is a reflection of the Steel City through you, Hamiltonians.

Dear Hamilton:

I don’t have a problem with scars. I understand that certain spots where you’ve been marred by time and circumstance hold as much character as the other areas that gleam with new coats of paint and freshly-planted saplings. My problem is your nonchalance and ‘it’s just a scratch’ attitude towards the parts that aren’t just missing a few tiles here, or lack a little caulking there; it’s the sagging bricks and broken fixtures that seem to sprawl across you as a whole. Would a little maintenance be too much to ask? Can you pull up your collective socks and maybe aim your projectile vomit towards the gutter? I don’t want to tell you what to do, I’m just pleading for our decorum. The neighbours are looking wary of the toilet in the front yard. Let me make it clear that I’m not scared off  by your benders or your bloodshed, because I’ve seen what you have to offer when you sober up and take putting pants on seriously. I’ve been here too long, and I’ve got no plans to leave anytime soon, so smarten up and together we can aspire to achieve having the garbage at the curb by eight in the morning.

Dear Hamilton:

The other day I went to buy a rain barrel and washing machine parts for my percussion machine from a scrap collector. I went to pay him what he was asking but since he knew what I was building, he gave it all to me for half the price and said, “Consider that my contribution to the arts!” That sort of thing happens a lot here.

Dear Hamilton:

You suck

Dear Hamilton: 
Thank you for your queer scene. You are the city I came out in, and I never would have been able to do it without the friends and community that I have been surrounded by since I moved here. I would not be the strong, critical, and happy person I am today without you.

Dear Hamilton: 
One night I was walking past one of the men’s shelters and a man outside said, “Hey lady! Here is a flower to show you that we aren’t the bunch of creeps that people think we are” and he handed me a white rose. It made my night.

Dear Hamilton: 
I watched two women have a fistfight on the street outside Jackson Square the other day

Dear Hamilton:

One time, a few years ago now, there was a terrible accident. My brother was hit by a car, and he was pulled along with it for quite a ways. He was really hurt – nearly died – and it was sure that it life was changed forever. People talked about it so much I thought my heart would cave in if I heard another word. It was on the televised news, in the newspaper, everywhere.

All that talking turned into action. People my brother didn’t know came to visit him in the hospital, brought my family food, coffee, proceeds from fundraisers they had done, and most importantly, they brought encouragement. It made everything just that much more easier for my brother to know that everyday people were cheering him on.

We never found out who was driving the car that night. My brother walks with a small limp now and has a quite few ugly scars to remind him of what happened. I don’t think he pays as much attention to that, though, and thinks fondly on how much it meant that folks cared for a stranger in their time of need. I know that I am fulfilled and amazed every day that I am so fortunate to live in a place that has more soul than anywhere I’ve ever been.

Dear Hamilton:

Today I was running around town doing some small errands. Upon taking the bus back to my home, I realized I had lost my wallet. A couple of hours go by when there is a knock at my door. A kind stranger who I have never met before found my wallet on the bus and returned it.