Since 2017, I have been walking the streets of Valleyfield as a street worker. I met the gaze of people of all ages, with or without mental health problems. I have forged valuable ties with community organizations, associations and the Center de santé et de services sociaux du Suroît, in the hope of maximizing the help I can offer to those living in precariousness. I’ve witnessed their resilience, seeing them stumble again and again […]. Mental health, no one is immune. […] The reality becomes more concrete, more glaring.
Today, I stand before the colossal challenge of homelessness. The problem is real, and his cry of distress resounds. It is indifferent to age or sex, striking young people, women and men, as well as people of older age. I am thinking in particular of this 70-year-old woman, homeless, prisoner of her declining mental health, whom the overwhelmed system is no longer able to protect.
Faced with this titanic task of finding shelter for the most vulnerable, I often feel helpless. However, I am lucky to have a roof […] and hope for a better tomorrow.
My street friends have so little. For them, dreaming of a future is a daunting task. And yet, hope is what keeps them going. I saw a homeless man generously sharing his surplus food donations with others. He had dreamed of doing it and he did it, for his greatest happiness. But to dream, you have to sleep. To sleep, you need a roof. In 2023, the roof of too many people is the ceiling of their car, the canvas of a tent or, too often, the starry sky.