“So, what exactly is a Home Sharing Provider?”
I asked a friend once.
He paused. “Is that, like, an internet provider... but for housing? Maybe like Airbnb?”
Makes you laugh—until it doesn’t.
The Reality Behind the Title
When I first learned what being a Home Sharing Provider actually means, I was shocked. It’s not a trendy gig. It’s not tech. It’s not Airbnb. It’s something far more demanding—and far less acknowledged.
A Home Sharing Provider is someone who opens their home to care for an adult with disabilities, offering round-the-clock support. You become a caregiver, a house manager, a cook, a therapist, a planner, and a crisis responder—rolled into one. You do it all.
But you do it with fewer rights, more responsibility, no paid vacation, no sick leave, no benefits, and little to no social protection. You’re labeled an “independent contractor.” In the eyes of the system, it’s not even a job.
It’s a lifestyle. That’s what Community Living British Columbia (CLBC) calls it.
Follow the Money
Yes, there’s funding—but not upfront. Not comprehensive. You get a fixed amount after you’ve paid for everything:
groceries (three meals and two snacks daily, following Canada’s Food Guide—on a $10–11/day budget),
rent, utilities, repairs,
gas, furniture, medication,
community activities, therapy sessions, and more.
And after all that... what’s left for you? For your own health? A vacation? Retirement savings?
No one really asks. Because no one wants to hear the answer.
No Raise for Five Years
For five years now, compensation rates haven’t budged—not even a cent. Not for inflation, not for rising housing costs, not for increased service expectations.
Is it because the original budget was so generous that it can cover everything forever? Of course not. It’s just more convenient this way. No protests. No media storm. No accountability.
And if someone does speak up? Good luck being heard.
The Blame Game
Here’s how the structure works:
The Ministry of Social Development created CLBC.
CLBC created agencies.
Agencies “support” Home Sharing Providers.
Legally, the provider signs a contract with the agency, not CLBC. So when things go wrong—and they do—the provider can only raise issues with the agency. But those contracts? They’re watertight. Written in a way that offers providers zero leverage.
Agencies don’t take responsibility. They’re just middlemen, forwarding money and filling out checklists.
CLBC? A public agency, yes. But it’s autonomous. The ministry can monitor it—but doesn’t have to.
So when disaster strikes—a crisis, a tragedy, a death—there’s no one left to blame. The system swallows it whole.
No consequences. No change.
Justice? Out of Reach
Before, when providers had direct contracts with CLBC, there was still a chance to go to court. Now? It's nearly impossible. The legal link is severed. You’d be suing the agency, not the crown.
And let’s be honest: who has the money, time, or energy to sue anyone while providing 24/7 care? Pro bono help? You might get 30 minutes with a law student. Maybe.
Why “Funding”? Why Not “Reimbursement”?
Language matters. “Funding” sounds generous. Like a gift. But this isn’t charity. These are essential services—paid for retroactively, with little transparency and no accountability.
If this care were treated as real employment—if it were compensated like a job—costs would skyrocket.
Think about it:
Salaries,
Paid time off,
Dedicated living space,
Transportation,
Insurance,
Bookkeeping,
Staffing.
Suddenly, this so-called “lifestyle” starts to look like a massive cost-saver for the system.
But Let’s Not Compare…
Ask how much is spent per client in group homes or institutional settings, and you’ll get evasive answers.
Why?
Because providers like us aren’t supposed to ask those questions. It’s “not helpful.” It’s “inappropriate.”
It might wake us up.
And If Something Goes Wrong?
A client dies from malnutrition? “We missed something.”
Overdose? “Their choice.”
Assault during a program? “Agency issue.”
Director gives a high-paying nonprofit job (funded by CLBC) to their romantic partner with zero qualifications? “We have a firewall in place.”
Who Wins?
The people who built this system.
The ones who keep it going.
It’s all legal. Every bit of it.
There are policies. There are roles. There’s hierarchy.
But there are no mandatory audits. No required interventions.
The Minister can act—but doesn’t have to.
CLBC can investigate—but often doesn’t.
Directors come and go. The system stays. The money flows. And the providers?
Well, they “chose this lifestyle.” No one forced them.
Here’s a new slogan idea for CLBC:
“Being a Home Sharing Provider: More than a job—It’s a Life Mission!”
And Yet...
I want to believe someone is reading this. That someone understands. That maybe, somehow, it will make a difference.
But then I hear that question again:
“Who even cares?”
And I fall silent.
Because I don’t know what to say.
