What Would Jane Think of PoCo?
If you’ve ever dipped a toe into urban planning, you’ve heard of Jane Jacobs. She’s the one who wrote The Death and Life of Great American Cities—a fiery critique of the “experts” who thought they were saving America’s cities but were really tearing them apart.
Her words hit a nerve. With wit and guts, Jacobs called out the high-rise builders and highway dreamers who bulldozed neighbourhoods without blinking. She wasn’t just an activist—she became the voice of the people who refused to be erased.
Communities loved her. Politicians feared her. Vogue even called her Queen Jane. Picture her: a white-haired woman in a dark skirt, with oversized bead necklaces, and radiating the confidence of someone who knew she was right.
Fast forward a few decades and a couple thousand miles from Manhattan. I’m sipping coffee at Waves in downtown Port Coquitlam, and I can’t help but wonder—what would Jane think of this little city I now call home?
PoCo isn’t New York, but it has the small-town heartbeat Jane adored. It’s approachable, neighbourly, alive. You’ll spot the regulars swapping stories with the barista, soccer parents rushing to practice, artists sketching in parks, and bakers pulling warm bread from the oven.
Art weaves through daily life here. There’s the Giggle Dam dinner theatre, where local comedians take the stage. The European Bakery and Deli—still run by the same East European family after 21 years—feels like the neighbourhood’s kitchen table. PoCo is small enough to feel like community, big enough to hold everybody.
And then there’s nature. We proudly call ourselves “the city of rivers and mountains”—and we mean it. Bears wander through town now and then, and nobody bats an eye. Birdwatching is practically a community sport. Seniors hang feeders outside their windows, and handcrafted birdhouses appear like little welcome signs for wildlife.
On the practical side, PoCo keeps it simple. City Hall runs lean (there’s only one planner on staff!) but things get done. We share services across the Tri-Cities, so taxes stay among the lowest in Metro Vancouver. And our Rec Centre? A gem—three hockey rinks, a two-level gym, yoga, spin, and a pool. For busy bees like me, it’s a lifesaver.
So what would Jane say?
She’d love our neighbourly spirit, the shops and sidewalks, the way people belong here. But she’d also push us forward, because she never handed out easy praise.
Downtown buzz. Our core is warm and friendly, but it winds down too early. My go-to pubs often close by 9 p.m. in summer, and even earlier in winter. Jane would nudge us toward more late-night cafés, music, and street life.
Getting around. Parts of downtown are lovely to walk, but PoCo is still pretty car-dependent. A friend’s homecare worker often spends half an hour on the bus from Coquitlam Centre—too long for such a short distance. Transit is a regional puzzle, but Jane would insist we find ways to make connections easier.
Home for everyone. Compared to our neighbours, PoCo is still affordable—but that can change fast. Jane would remind us to protect that balance. I was glad when my housekeeper’s family found a home in a new apartment at Westminster Junction. That’s the kind of housing that keeps PoCo welcoming—for the workers, caregivers, and dreamers who enrich our daily lives.
Here in PoCo, I see people, place, and a place for people. Modest, but real. Neighbourly. Alive. And maybe, just maybe, the kind of city Jane would have quietly adored.
Bei, a proud PoCo resident
