Early December, first snow. Montrealers go down to clear their stairs, their entrances, sometimes even part of the sidewalk or common alley. During this bustle, several exchanges: it had been a long time since they had seen each other. A shovel lent here, a helping hand to get the car out of the snow bank there. The first snow, like a break from our stultifying daily lives, always sparks a surge of spontaneous solidarity.
When we woke up that morning, we could be dazzled by the beauty of our city under this white cushion. For a moment, coffee in hand, we could forget the housing crisis, lease renewals full of rent increases and, who knows, maybe a housing repossession or eviction coming in the next few years. month. We could forget our grocery bills which are constantly increasing, those from Hydro, our ever more difficult working conditions and our salaries which are not increasing and which make us poorer from year to year.
That morning, dozens of people across the island of Montreal also woke up, came out of their tents and dropped the white cushion on their roof. Hidden further and further from the eyes of those who – also although differently – are struggling these days, they came out of their shelter and began their day in search of answers to their basic needs.
The irritability of the end of the year and the darkness of November got under our skin. Stress, distress, the urge to scream and let go of everything multiply, although many manage to keep them inside, as if it were a good thing. Our neighbors without a door number are no exception.
Sometimes we boil inside, sile like water in a good old kettle. In these moments, it is better to close the ring and let the heat escape rather than putting the lid on and holding it down by force. Sometimes, this is what happens with the frustrations that accumulate: an expulsion from the metro because you dozed off on a bench here, a refusal to go to the bathroom in a business there, and to make matters worse, there is no place to sleep warm this night.
No place, because the community environment — this environment that does so much with so little — is overflowing. No location, because even if the projects to administer reception centers for the winter were submitted this summer, confirmation of funding was given in November. No place, because the private rental market is increasingly aggressive towards those who have little and because the government seems determined to fuel this anger with its Bill 31.
No place, because shelters are full and public places, whether indoors or outdoors, increasingly hostile to people experiencing homelessness or otherwise marginalized. No place, because the authorities are slow to invest in the renovation and construction of infrastructure, and recurring financing that would allow other spaces to welcome different faces to be opened. These faces that we don’t want to see anywhere.
In these snowy times, we need a good dose of humanity, to close the circle that consumes us all in a certain way and to remove the lid of precariousness. In these snowy times, while clearing our little patch of sidewalk before going inside to warm up, let’s also think about the tent that continues to accumulate snowflakes in a dark corner of the neighborhood. In these snowy times, let’s rekindle the flame of solidarity.