A home that belongs to everyone

In an age when public institutions are often questioned or taken for granted, there is something remarkable—almost countercultural—about stepping into a place whose purpose is to bring people together. Government House, the official residence of Manitoba’s lieutenant-governor, is one of those rare spaces. It is a home that belongs to all of us, even if many Manitobans have never walked through its doors.

I was recently reminded of its significance when Lt.-Gov. Anita Neville hosted a reception in my honour as former director and CEO of the Winnipeg Art Gallery – Qaumajuq. It was a generous gesture, and an opportunity to see — up close — the vital, often misunderstood role the lieutenant-governor plays in our civic life.

Government House itself tells part of this story. Built in 1883, it is one of Canada’s oldest continuously occupied vice-regal residences. For more than 140 years, its rooms have witnessed the signing of legislation, the welcoming of foreign dignitaries, the swearing-in of premiers, the recognition of volunteers and heroes, and countless community gatherings. Its walls hold a living history of Manitoba — one shaped not by politics, but by ceremony, hospitality, and the belief that public service should be both gracious and accessible.

Every province has a lieutenant-governor, each serving as the King’s representative. But the role is far more than symbolic. In Manitoba, the lieutenant-governor performs constitutional duties — granting Royal Assent to legislation, opening sessions of the legislature, swearing in cabinet — and serves as a non-partisan stabilizing presence during times of transition. The office is one of continuity in a world that moves quickly.

Yet the part of the role most citizens see and feel unfolds not in the legislature but in the community. The lieutenant-governor attends events across the province, from school visits and cultural festivals to Indigenous ceremonies, charitable fundraisers, and volunteer recognition gatherings. Neville embraces this responsibility with a steady, unshowy dedication. Her schedule is astonishing: hundreds of engagements each year, many in rural and northern communities where presence and acknowledgment matter deeply.

And then there is a tradition most Manitobans know least about: the opening of Government House itself. For generations, the lieutenant-governor has welcomed citizens into this historic home to acknowledge and celebrate community building — honouring teachers, health-care workers, artists, volunteers, veterans, youth leaders, newcomer communities, and many others whose contributions might otherwise go unrecognized.

That tradition continues today, and the reception in my honour revealed its quiet power. Guests were greeted by an aide-de-camp and then welcomed personally by Neville before moving into the ballroom — a space that, over decades, has hosted Indigenous elders, national leaders, diplomats, scientists, artists, and community champions. The evening unfolded with a dignity rooted not in hierarchy but in gratitude. People from across my professional life were there, their presence making the room feel like a microcosm of Manitoba itself.

Moments like these reveal the symbolic importance of civic rituals — small in scale, perhaps, but vital reminders that public life is strengthened through shared experience.

The guest list itself told a story — two lieutenant-governors, MLAs, three mayors, city councillors, a judge, a former grand chief, community leaders, artists, teachers, WAG staff and past board chairs, volunteers, and family — all gathered in one room. It was a reminder that when Government House opens its doors, it becomes one of the rare spaces where the full breadth of Manitoba’s civic life stands shoulder to shoulder.

What struck me most was how Government House functions as a civic commons — a place where Manitobans meet one another across roles, cultures, and experiences. In a society that can often feel fractured, this work of convening has real significance.

The Crown, in its constitutional form, can seem distant. But at the provincial level, through the lieutenant-governor, it becomes deeply personal. It becomes about service. About listening. About honouring. About creating a sense of belonging and continuity in a constantly changing world.

Government House may be a historic mansion on Kennedy Street, but it functions as something far larger: a civic living room, a place of acknowledgment, a space where Manitoba sees the best in itself.

Our evening together reminded me that Manitoba’s strength has always come from its ability to build community. The lieutenant-governor’s role, when lived fully and generously, amplifies that strength. At a moment when trust in institutions can feel fragile, it matters enormously that we have one devoted not to partisanship, but to connection; not to politics, but to people; not to power, but to service.

The work of bringing people together is never the task of one person alone. It is carried by a community — by the lieutenant-governor, by her staff, and by the remarkable volunteers from the armed forces, emergency services, and many other corners of Manitoba who give their time to support these gatherings. Their quiet dedication is a powerful expression of what the vice-regal office stands for: service without recognition, hospitality without agenda, and a commitment to the well-being of all Manitobans.

And in Manitoba, thanks to Neville, that commitment is not theoretical. It is lived — warmly, generously, and with a deep and steady devotion to community. In a divided world, we need spaces like this more than ever.

Stephen Borys is president and CEO of Civic Muse and former director and CEO of the Winnipeg Art Gallery – Qaumajuq.