It’s been over a week, but Mary Claire isn’t taking off. “When I’ve calmed down, I’ll call Denis. I will call him, sure! “Dennis who? Trudel. The local MP, elected under the banner of the Bloc Québécois.
“When I saw the Bloc’s advertisement, which says that it’s like an ‘all-inclusive’ package for immigrants in Quebec now, I wanted to tell them to start by coming to see what it is, the conditions real of these people, before saying anything! It’s not an “all-inclusive” at all! It doesn’t make sense to say that! »
On the South Shore in the Montreal region, Mary Claire Macleod directs L’Entraide chez nous. No half-coconut shell, filled to the brim with piña coladas, lies around its premises. At noon, a handful of volunteers and staff eat their sandwiches. They wait for the arrival, around 1 p.m., of a batch of needy people, as we used to say.
L’Entraide chez nous is located in the basement of a church planted in the middle of a neighborhood disadvantagedas we say today to avoid being confronted with the meaning of words poverty And inequality. The organization was founded in 1970 by Mr.me Robidoux. She had given birth to twenty-three children, Mrs.me Robidoux. Twenty three. She felt the fragility of her environment. An environment left to itself, with the only promise for the future of its share of misery. It was at a time when Robert Bourassa, the new Prime Minister, was gargling projects of concrete and steel, in the name of a modernity from which the world below was excluded from the outset. Bourassa passed. The misery of the neighborhood remained.
Yvane Fournier and Diane Roberge distribute bread, fruits, vegetables, frozen meat. They have been working there for thirty years. “It’s worse than ever,” said Yvane.
These volunteers keep their mobile phones handy. They use it at all times to translate a few words from French into Spanish. “The hardest part is seeing men in my office start crying. They are the ones who crack the most, it seems. They’re at their wit’s end,” said Mary Claire Macleod with an annoyed air.
“Families of newcomers find themselves having to live with each other,” explains Lydie, one of the reception managers. She tells me about six adults, forced to live in a 5 ½, with a dozen children. “They don’t even have mattresses for everyone. »
To get something to eat, you have to present your card. The regulars of L’Entraide used to call it “la carte pain”. This speaks volumes about the degree of precariousness shown by this piece of plastic-coated cardboard.
“Before, we offered around a thousand breakdown services a year. There, in less than six months, we have already offered more than that, ”explains Mary Claire. However, this is not the first time that the situation has been difficult. In 2001, after the attacks in the United States, there was an influx of requests, she recalls. Also in 2008, with the financial crisis. And again in 2010, with the earthquake in Haiti. In 2017, to help asylum seekers, the Olympic Stadium was requisitioned. But there, support from above is lacking. Aid agencies are left to fend for themselves. “Plus, the can of diced tomatoes I used to pay 99¢ is now double. »
For Eva Gracia-Turgeon, coordinator of Foyer du monde, a shelter for families seeking asylum, the CAQ government has achieved a feat in terms of political communication. “The CAQ projects the illusion that this chaotic situation depends entirely on the federal government. Lots of people buy this. However, it is false! In fact, you should know that since the reopening of the borders after the pandemic, the provincial government has not reviewed the services. If things are going badly, it’s a lot of his fault. It’s a big shit show. »
In principle, asylum seekers are taken care of by the Quebec services of PRAIDA, a provincial program reimbursed by Ottawa. Its foundations date back to 1956. In 2021, the beautiful historic building that occupied the offices of PRAIDA, rue Saint-Denis, was emptied. Couldn’t it have been used again, in these times when everything is overflowing?
During the pandemic, the number of PRAIDA accommodation places was reduced, due to the temporary closure of borders. However, the places have not increased since, even if everything is back to how it was before. Of the ten accommodation sites, there are only two left, ie 1150 places in total. Which is largely insufficient. Hotels, which the federal government used for quarantines, are now requisitioned to accommodate migrants, in conditions that leave much to be desired. We are far from Playa del Carmen. “It’s the federal government that picks up the shards, because the administration of PRAIDA does not come under it,” explains Eva Gracia-Turgeon.
“It suits Quebec not to move,” says Eva. “It gives the impression that, through the sole fault of Ottawa, we do not have the capacity to take care of these people. It’s not true! If it’s not working right now, it’s a lot because the Government of Quebec is doing nothing, leaving community groups to manage on their own, washing their hands of it, while accusing the federal. Nobody would think of giving a medal of merit to the federal government.
Meanwhile, our tin-sword swordsmen, those who speak inflammatory words about immigrants, have found convenient and easy targets there. Apart from a pause to consider a few Chinese balloons, all their attention is directed towards these scapegoats, in the name of an identity rhetoric. To the point of diverting public attention from important problems. It makes you wonder if our valiant paper tigers, obsessed with this one subject, wouldn’t find a way to inflate us with other balloons if migrants didn’t exist. Besides, isn’t that a bit what they already do, talking to us about it all the time?