Tania arrived at Le Chaînon one evening in April. In the pit of her belly, years of mourning, violence, suffering. She only had a handbag and a backpack. And a thread of hope.
Tania is great, but less than her laughter. It resounds in the chapel of the organization Le Chaînon, where she has agreed to testify. She’s been staying here for a few weeks, in this shelter at the foot of Mount Royal, which has been welcoming injured women for 90 years. We met her one morning in May.
She dives: “I found myself homeless overnight. At the end of March, Tania realized she had to get out of the relationship she was in. “It got out of hand, he almost pushed me around, I felt my life was in danger, I didn’t want him to talk to me like that,” she says. I no longer felt good about myself, I was locked up, I no longer went out, I no longer took a shower. I said to myself: we have to get out of here. »
She found herself in a motel, the time to regain her senses. She had no place to live, nowhere to go.
The break, Tania experienced it years earlier. When her son was born in 2018.
“I had a high-risk pregnancy. The child was born with a birth defect. The DPJ took it away from me at the hospital,” she recalls. His smile faded. “I was in postpartum depression, the child was vulnerable. I was alone. It really affected me. I took a lot of medication. This is the darkest period of my life. »
It is also the start of a series of roaming episodes. Between the street and aid organizations, men. Ephemeral loves, which she sums up as follows: “I cling a little too much to relationships. »
drop off
Getting a place at Le Chaînon was not easy. Tania had to call back several days in a row, in the hope that a bed would become free.
PHOTO MARCO CAMPANOZZI, THE PRESS
Le Chaînon serves tens of thousands of meals a year to women in need.
When she finally arrived, at the end of the afternoon, she was “not well at all. Morally and physically,” she describes.
At the entrance to Le Chaînon, there is a reception lounge. Comfortable sofas, soothing frames on the walls. A little further on, a small bedroom with a single bed and a bedside table. This is where Tania found herself.
The peace I felt in this room, when I slept. I felt safe. The next day they gave me pajamas. I ate, I slept, I rested. There are no words.
Tanya
come back to life
In a few weeks, Tania returned to projects. While she hadn’t worked since 2017, she tried her luck with an employment agency.
She found herself in a factory, doing packaging and labeling. At the same time, she was able to access a long-term program at Le Chaînon. “It’s going well, I feel different, it makes me feel good to see people. I’ve been here for five weeks, but it feels like a year! »
His dream: to have a stable job, to prepare to return to housing. Work on herself.
“I feel on the right track,” she rejoices. There is renewal, hope, motivation. It’s over, victimization. Everything is possible right now! »
“You don’t know where to go”
PHOTO FRANÇOIS ROY, THE PRESS
Suzanne found herself on the street in 2019, after years of supporting a friend with cancer.
After accompanying a friend to death, part of Suzanne also died. For years, she lived on the fringes, from unsanitary studios to illegal warehouses. Until a rock band reignites its flame.
It is in a soft and light voice that Suzanne recounts her wanderings, her white hair like a veil over her shoulders. “I rented what I could,” sums up the 43-year-old woman. What she could afford were studio apartments with cockroaches. Storage spaces where she washed in a sink. Roommates with men who made her uncomfortable.
We met Suzanne one afternoon in May, in the common room of the women’s pavilion of the Old Brewery Mission, in the Centre-Sud district of Montreal. She has been there since mid-February.
Suzanne found herself on the street in 2019, after years of supporting a friend with cancer. “I gave a lot. He died in hospital. Afterwards, I had difficulty,” she says. The accommodation constantly reminded him of his companion. She decided to leave, not realizing how inaccessible the rental market would be to her.
“In Montreal, we don’t really know where to go anymore,” she explains. “Even on Kijiji, there are ads reserved “for Indians only” or “for French students only”. When you have a little bit of trouble, when you’re not fit enough to work, you feel left out. »
While she was looking for a place to live, Montrealers were enjoying life. A heavy contrast to wear.
You see a lot of people having fun in restaurants, and you, you don’t really know where to go.
Susan, 43 years old
To the point of closing in on itself. “I had become wild, very suspicious,” observes Suzanne with hindsight.
saved by music
Towards the end of the pandemic, Suzanne attended two concerts by rock band The Tea Party, thanks to an invitation. “It brought me back to life. »
In search of music (and perhaps hope), Suzanne then accompanied musician friends on tour in Ontario. “I took the train, the bus, on a budget. I had help, there are people who said: “Come on, come and eat with us [dans des centres d’aide]. »
It was the trigger. “I said to myself: when I go back to Montreal, I’m going to get help,” recalls Suzanne.
PHOTO FRANÇOIS ROY, THE PRESS
The cafeteria of the Patricia-Mackenzie Pavilion of the Old Brewery Mission
She arrived at the Old Brewery Mission in the dead of winter. “I was tired, depressed, I didn’t know where to go, I didn’t have an apartment. I was lost. »
The warm welcome she received at the Old Brewery Mission melted her barriers.
” I sat down. I was crying. I didn’t know anyone, but it was kindness, she says. When you don’t know where to go anymore, when you get rejected, yelled at, sometimes by landlords – because when you have less money, you get treated like nobody – all those insults, it accumulates. »
No longer be alone
Suzanne was lucky to get a spot the very night she arrived at the Old Brewery Mission. In contact with the other residents, she realized that she was not alone. Far from there.
PHOTO FRANÇOIS ROY, THE PRESS
One of the 12 studios reserved for homeless women in the “Les neighbors de Lartigue” project set up by the Old Brewery Mission.
“There are women who have a high education, women from all strata of society. I realized that it can happen to anyone [de tomber en situation d’itinérance]. »
His dream: to find a small place to live in peace. “And quietly start contributing to society again,” she adds. It’s really simple, simple, simple. »