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“Here, we are always one second from the Apocalypse. »

This is the area of ​​neighborhood station 21. Downtown Montreal. The one who speaks is one of the agents of this post, Jean-Simon Beauchesne. He is speaking to his future colleagues, SPVM recruits who are immersed in the immersion program at the Old Brewery Mission. In the heart of Montreal’s homelessness crisis.

In 45 packed minutes, he and his colleague Philippe Roy gave an intensive course in Montreal police to the four recruits, a course like they have probably never had. Live from the 21st, a “call station”.

Here, the police are constantly overwhelmed by calls, and too few to respond. “In summer, the city is on fire! » Concretely, this means that during 60 shifts last summer, officers Beauchesne and Roy did not have a minute to eat. They had planned the move: the “tactical bar”, permanently placed in a pants pocket, at the ankle.

A demanding and difficult job.

“In short,” says Agent Beauchesne, “we need the rest of you. »

The recruits look at their two colleagues, wide-eyed. Half of these 20 recruits who we immersed in are leaving the National Police Academy. They never patrolled. Some, like Olivier, have a few years of police experience under their belt. The 26-year-old worked for four years for the Sûreté du Québec. He spent two years in a tiny Innu community, with so few police officers on duty that he was constantly on call and sleeping with his radio on.

Others have gained valuable experience elsewhere. Like Vicky, 22, who worked for five years as a worker in a shelter for abused women. Or Charlie, 21, who was an intervention officer in a youth center in Quebec for three years.

Aside from two young Asian women, this group of recruits does not include any visible minorities. “There’s not a black guy here!” exclaims host Varda Étienne, who came to give a conference. For what ? »

About a third of them were born in the Montreal region, but almost all now live in the suburbs. At the end of the program, the young police officers will inherit their assignment to a neighborhood station.

But for now, they are immersed.

Healthy shocks

“ You got cocaine? », says a homeless Inuit to Alexandre, 25, and Loïc, 27, who are patrolling with Moses Aronson and Brendan Meawasige, two street workers from the Native Friendship Center of Montreal. With them, the recruits toured the circuit frequented by the most vulnerable members of the Inuit community. Cabot Square, Milton-Parc intersection, Lionel-Groulx metro station.

The man who calls out to the recruits has a black eye and a hip problem that leaves him unable to walk. He drags himself on the asphalt. A woman in a dirty winter parka is lying on the sidewalk, a street corner away. Another quest in the Guy-Concordia metro, bare chested and barefoot.

In their backpack provided by the organization, the recruits have clean injection equipment, condoms and granola bars. Not forgetting the naloxone kits.

Moses, born in Nunavik and raised in Nunavut, knows his clients by name and can approach them in Inuktitut. “It works miracles,” notes Anthony, 24 years old. The joint patrol has officially existed since 2020. It was launched in 2014 at the instigation of a police officer… from neighborhood station 21.

At the Native Friendship Center, the four recruits also realize that they ignore large parts of Indigenous history, such as the massacre of sled dogs by Royal Mounted Police officers in the 1950s and 1960s. I saw today, it was new for me,” said Loïc.

Étienne, 22, and Charlie were sent to Accueil Bonneau. They also distributed injection equipment to homeless encampments. “It’s always a shock to see that,” says Étienne. Adèle, 22, and Olivier sprayed their shoes with insecticide to visit several almost unsanitary housing units in the Federation of Housing Organizations of Montreal. “When I opened the door, things were moving all over the floor,” says Adèle.

One of the tenants, sick and vulnerable, is exploited by other homeless people who squat in his accommodation in exchange for crack cocaine.

And then, four rookie police officers were sent to the Old Brewery Mission, whose 5 floors and 197 beds are the equivalent of Montreal’s Court of Miracles. “Here, it’s Louis-H. Lafontaine 2,” summarizes Junior Félix, who has worked there for eight years. His advice to recruits? “Patience and observation. This is the key to intervention. »

At the beginning of the afternoon, the recruits already saw “the cavalry”, police, firefighters, ambulance drivers, arrive for a user who had overdosed. An event that has now become part of the life of the organization, deplores the services coordinator, Mila Alexova. “At least once a week. »

While slaloming between the bunk beds, Olivier asks if consumption is authorized for the organization. Not really a choice, says Kenza Rougui, clinical director of the organization. Even if the mission is not a supervised injection site, certain places have been reserved for consumption.

Colleagues in action

In the morning, Charlotte, 22, was able to see the calming effect that the police uniform can sometimes have on a user in crisis. “As soon as the two police officers arrived, she calmed down. Two women made a difference. They were gentle, calm. »

Another observation: on the ground, the famous “safe distance” that police officers are taught to respect with a subject in crisis, has really gone to waste. “I realized that sometimes it can create a barrier. »

By evening, the line of homeless people waiting to enter the Mission café stretches for an entire block. Among these “clients” is Suzanne. Dressed entirely in scarlet clothes, including smudged lipstick, Suzanne looks like a little Red Riding Hood badly beaten up by life.

As she enters, she smiles: Junior Félix is ​​there, he’s her favorite speaker. She hugs him. Every evening when he works, Suzanne comes to serenade him. Tonight it will be The birdby René Simard.

“OK, a little silence, Suzanne is going to sing,” announces Junior, starting the song on the café speakers, in front of an audience made up of the most posh people in Montreal. Then, Suzanne begins, in a quavering but clear voice, her almost translucent eyes fixed on Junior.

“It showed so well the extent to which the speakers have a real relationship with the customers,” says Adèle, who had been given the reception position at the Mission café that evening. “That was my favorite moment. »