Fitting in, one pedal stroke at a time

Many have only been living in Canada for a few months. Between a French language course, looking for a job, and children to support, these newcomers are trying to learn how to ride… a bike. There will be falls. But they already know adversity.

Gracia Diamana showed up to the first class wearing elbow and knee pads.

“I was really afraid of falling and getting hurt,” says the 19-year-old, who had never had the opportunity to learn to ride a bike in her native Congo.

We are in the parking lot of an elementary school in the Saint-Laurent borough on a Tuesday afternoon in July. About ten women are exercising on their bikes under a blazing sun.

Some work on their balance on a balance bike — a bicycle without pedals. Others practice starting off with just one pedal while the more advanced ones tackle turns by going around small exercise cones.

They are in their second session – of seven – of Vélo Québec’s Toutes à vélo program.

The program aims to make cycling accessible to women who have never had the opportunity to learn. To ensure everyone is comfortable, the “accompanists” who teach them the basics of the sport are also all women.

The participants in this cohort are mainly immigrants, having grown up mostly in Africa.

Young Gracia quickly realized that a helmet would be enough. The knee and wrist guards were too much of a hindrance to her movements.

Having arrived in Montreal alone in the middle of January, Gracia ended up finding a tiny apartment – ​​much too expensive – and out of the way while she studies downtown. For her, learning to ride a bike will be an efficient and economical way to get around this big city that she is slowly discovering.

“It’s a long time, waiting for the bus,” says the legal studies student, marked by her first winter spent waiting every day in the cold for the bus.

Like most of the participants, Gracia has a lot on her shoulders. “My whole family is counting on me,” says the young woman who dreams of becoming a lawyer. During the sessions, the women share their tips on cycling. But they also open up about the challenges of rebuilding their lives here.

One has French language courses to pass. The other has been looking for a job in her field for months. She has only been offered manual jobs at the bottom of the ladder, even though she has training in management. Yet another is impatiently waiting for her work permit while her savings are running out.

Motivated despite obstacles

The humidex is 35 that day. The heat does not diminish their ardor to succeed. Fatou Thiam works tirelessly to succeed in starting with one pedal; she keeps the other foot on the ground to try to maintain her balance.

Her motivation: her 3-year-old daughter. “I bought her bike. It’s on the balcony,” says the mother from Senegal who arrived in the country a year ago. “Every day, she asks me to teach her how to ride it.” As soon as she gains confidence, she will pass on her knowledge to her daughter.

The eldest of the group, Miriam Capriles, 72, inspires the younger ones. She left Venezuela to join her daughter who immigrated a few years before her. After two and a half years in Montreal, the septuagenarian speaks French and is now learning English. In addition to cycling, of course. She is waiting for her work permit to contribute to her host society.

When it was created in 2021, initially as a pilot project, the Toutes à vélo program trained about a hundred women. Two years later, 523 women – the majority of whom are immigrants – have learned to pedal. The program is now offered in five regions of Quebec.

Most of them think they’re the only ones who don’t know how to ride a bike, says Leah Blythe, a social integration counsellor at CARI Saint-Laurent and a partner in the Toutes à vélo program. On the phone, they’re embarrassed to admit that they “really don’t know how to ride.” By being together, they discover that they’re not alone; they motivate each other to succeed. When they do manage to pedal, “it’s magic,” says M^me Blythe.

Breaking down barriers

This year, Vélo Québec has a waiting list of 800 people. “We are not enough to meet the immense need,” says Magali Bebronne, the organization’s program director.

Moreover, the sessions are free, bikes and helmets are loaned to them and a daycare is offered. “There are reasons why women don’t learn to ride a bike,” says M.^me Bebronne: We need to break down these barriers, hence the importance of a program designed by and for women.”

According to The state of cycling in Quebec in 202062% of men cycle in Quebec compared to 47% of women, a disparity that tends to increase with age. Vélo Québec tried to get the project funded – without success – by the Secrétariat à la condition féminine (at the provincial level). The organization is currently trying to obtain federal funding.

Project manager at Vélo Québec, Catherine Plante gathers the participants under an awning for a signaling lesson… and a break in the shade. The noise of the planes flying over our heads at regular intervals drowns out part of her explanations. She then gives them a practical demonstration – letting go of the handlebars with her left hand to indicate her intention to turn or stop – which earns her a round of heartfelt applause.

Françoise Guka then got on a bike to try to imitate her. She lost her balance and fell heavily onto the asphalt. The chaperones and several participants rushed to help her. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine,” said the fifty-year-old of Congolese origin, who struggled to get up. She was advised to sit down for a moment to collect her thoughts.

There will be a few minor falls that afternoon.

But above all, lots of laughter and solidarity.

Once the participants have perfected their motor skills on a closed circuit, they will do sessions on the road. “Next June, we will do the Tour de l’Île together,” says Valérie Andrée Authier, a chaperone and former participant in the program. Many are wide-eyed when they learn that the event involves riding about fifty kilometres through the city.

Marie France Mengong struggled for the last two hours to keep her balance after the start when she joined the charismatic Fatou, sitting in the shade.

“Did you succeed?” Fatou asks him.

“Not yet,” Marie France replies, a little disillusioned.

“Next time,” encourages Fatou, who herself fell at the end of the session, without losing her smile.

The apprentice cyclist comes to greet us before leaving. She has a title to suggest for the article: “Women in control”. The program has given her confidence with a handlebar. And probably more.