Beyond Statuses

An immigrant is experiencing severe anxiety and depression (rarely goes out, eats very little, isolates themself…). They do not have access to CLSC services and cannot afford private care. During their social evaluation at Doctors of the World, it became clear that their mental health struggles are directly linked to their social and immigration situation:

• Unable to plan for the future because it feels too uncertain,

• Feeling of uselessness,

• Having to hide in order to stay safe,

• Fear of being arrested, deported, separated from their support network, or forced to return to their country of origin,

• Social isolation,

• Workplace exploitation.

A father of a 3-year-old is always emotional when he talks with his child online. His heart is broken because he has never had the chance to meet his child in person or hold them in his arms.

An immigrant woman came to Quebec to join her Canadian partner through the sponsorship process, hoping they could build a life together. After a few months, her partner took away her identity papers and became psychologically and physically violent. 

He threatened to withdraw the sponsorship application and have her deported if she reported him to the police. Despite the fear of losing her immigration status, she decided to leave him to escape the violence and regain control of her life. 

She then found herself homeless. Eventually, with the help of a community organization, she was able to regularize her situation. Still, she remains uncertain about what will happen with her immigration status next year.

A newly arrived trans person in Montreal submits an application to the Quebec Civil Status Directorate to change their name and gender marker on official documents. This request is crucial for their safety when moving around the city and to enroll in a French language course they are entitled to, without fear of being misgendered (called by a gender that doesn’t match their identity) or having their gender identity disclosed. 

After a few weeks, the application is returned because it did not meet the requirements, including one year of residency in Quebec, proof of identity, and an original birth certificate. The person cannot provide an ID with a signature because the only document they had (their passport) was taken by the Canada Border Services Agency (CBSA). They also do not have any Quebec or Canadian identification. 

It is also impossible for them to obtain a birth certificate from their country of origin, since they no longer have ties there and are living in social isolation.

A woman goes to the hospital at 41 weeks of pregnancy because her doctor at a private clinic said she needs to be induced. Since a C-section has to be planned, the hospital does not consider this an “emergency” and refuses to schedule the procedure unless she pays in advance. 

On top of the stress of not knowing whether she and her baby will make it safely to delivery, she suffers verbal abuse from hospital staff (for example: “no money, no baby”). After going to several hospitals and spending hours in emergency rooms and administrative offices explaining her situation, with her medical file in hand, she finally finds a doctor willing to schedule her C-section and agree to a payment plan. 

Because uninsured immigrants are charged 200% of the regular cost, she is billed $18,000, a debt she will spend 10 years repaying (at $150 per month). 

A person from Guatemala decides to come to Quebec to work in agriculture, hoping to improve their financial situation and support their family, who have been going through a severe economic crisis for several months. 

To make this possible, they sell all their possessions and pay $10,000 to an agency that promises to arrange their arrival in Quebec. Hired on a contract for 30 hours a week, they end up working more than 70 hours. 

Despite these clear abuses, they struggle to find the strength and courage to report their situation, fearing they will lose their job and be forced to return to their home country.