What We Know, What We Hope
An Afterword

GEORGE MELNYK and CHRISTINA PARKER

As we gathered stories for this collection, we didn’t have any particular voices or persons in mind. We sought to connect with people who support refugees, who are refugees, and who work on issues connected to refugees. What we have gathered are stories told from the perspective of those who experienced them first-hand. These perspectives connect to a much larger story about what it means to be a refugee in Canada. The authors speak for themselves with the power of first-hand experience. As co-editors of this book we wanted to emphasize the importance of creating and implementing policies and practices that support human rights in Canada and around the world—protecting persons who face harm is a shared responsibility. These stories offer those of us in positions of power in Canada, as well as those refugees who will surely come to this country in the future, guidance in deciphering the humanness that exists within those classed and identified as refugees. We hope writing their stories for the public has empowered them.

The authors of each chapter approach their understanding of Canada and refugees in their own way; individually and collectively, their perspectives shape how we conceptualize and understand the refugee experience in Canada. These different vantage points provide insight into the lives of refugees in Canada and an awareness of their day-to-day struggles. The wide range of authors illustrates the multifaceted process in which we need to engage when trying to understand refugees’ experiences. Some of the authors write from privileged positions, while others continue to occupy marginalized spaces, even in their new home country. Together, their stories illustrate how moving from one physical or psychological space to another does not necessarily erase the initial situations that led to refugees’ displacement, but at times merely shifts the location of their liminal existence. Their stories illustrate to what extent individual experiences of forced movement and transition from one space to another are shaped by the specific historical events that frame them.

These stories raise critical questions about the nature of Canada’s refugee intake and support system and present important ideas about how the country should engage with refugees. They also point out the flaws in the system. They indicate how Canada uses a mixture of pragmatism and humanitarianism to justify its refugee policies over time. They highlight the human cost of being a refugee. The stories in this volume lay the groundwork for necessary, yet difficult, conversations about how to integrate refugees in Canada. Some of the backlash we see against refugees is based on xenophobia and racism and exaggerated security concerns. Some of it is rooted in ignorance of the legal obligations that Canada has to asylum seekers. Yet more of it is fanned by political rhetoric about “queue jumping.” These stories are meant to move the discussion from the realm of politically loaded terminology toward a space that is respectful of the human experience.

The global pandemic has, unfortunately, exacerbated the marginal status of already disadvantaged groups. News reports indicate that COVID-19 has had a disproportionately harmful impact on these groups in terms of both economic welfare and health (including personal well-being and access to medical care). We in Canada are witnessing a widening gap in how this nation responds to the need for safety and protection of dominant as opposed to marginalized groups, with the latter bearing the brunt of the difference. This trend toward the prioritization of the haves over the have-nots—of insiders over outsiders—has a direct impact on refugees. In the climate of fear and mutual mistrust that the pandemic has created, our human capacity to respond with compassion to the needs of others is temporarily diminished. This, in turn, erodes Canadians’ sense of themselves as members of an inclusive community that is prepared to welcome refugees.

Our hope for this collection is to deepen and broaden the network that supports refugees and to illustrate refugees’ personal activism and abilities to speak their truth to power and in doing so reach more decision makers with the ultimate goal of making real change in the lives of refugees. As this collection illustrates, refugees and those who support refugees engage in an acculturation process that develops the civic competencies needed for success in a diverse workforce and pluralistic society. While COVID-19 has compromised this process of integration and inclusion—severely impacting the protection and welfare of those in most need of shelter and protection—it is our hope that Canada can become a leader in securing the protection of those most vulnerable during this global crisis.

VOICE AND POWER IN REFUGEE NARRATIVES

As Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie points out in “The Danger of a Single Story,” her TED talk about the power of storytelling, “It is impossible to talk about the single story without talking about power. . . . Power is the ability not just to tell the story of another person, but to make it the definitive story of that person.”¹ In other words, the “single” dominant narrative of refugees happily arriving and settling in Canada is challenged through the voices represented in this collection. They indicate the trials and tribulations of the migratory experience and the real and sometimes overwhelming challenges of adapting to a new life in a strange new place. The idea of a benign and generous Canada that is open to helping others through resettlement must be tempered by the individual experiences of refugees who have to deal with so many issues and emotions, including guilt for leaving behind relatives and loved ones, and the effort to maintain a dignified identity in a sometimes hostile environment. While some of the experiences that are related in this collection are transferable and connect to the experiences of others, each narrative remains an account of a unique experience of resettlement and integration. By letting these individual stories stand alongside each other to reflect a multifaceted experience of forced migration, this collection helps to give refugees, and those involved in assisting them, a voice. That itself is an act of affirmation, as Adichie points out.

It is not uncommon for refugees to fear telling their story. This may be because they fear that colleagues or family members in their home country or in the diaspora may be persecuted if they tell these stories. In hearing these stories, we become aware of how precarious their sense of security still is, especially those who are recent newcomers. Their past experiences of persecution haunt them still. This fear is not unfounded. When refugees arrive in Canada, they are powerless. They are without a home and are often still awaiting status. The process of determining their future could take years. Those who are dependent on government aid or on private sponsorship support and have to survive without resources of their own are often left voiceless; they are spoken to, and some speak on behalf of them, but too often they do not, or feel they cannot, speak for themselves. Giving these people the space to tell their stories inverts these power relations and allows us to see how refugees’ lives are still defined by the will of those who have power.

The stories represented in this book invite us to reflect critically on the policies and practices that are necessary to drive the kind of transformation that is needed that will support refugees in their efforts to reclaim their voices. Their stories invite us to ask if there are processes that should be implemented in the refugee determination process that would make refugees active participants in the design of their future lives. We need to ask ourselves how we might encourage those seeking refuge in Canada to participate in developing the policies that affect them. While the refugee determination process has many elements that seem to make sense from the perspective of protecting the country from bogus applications, and thereby ensuring the integrity of the immigration process, there is no reason why the system cannot be upgraded and reformed into a more equitable process for all concerned. These first-person accounts allow us to reflect on the ways in which various communities, contexts, and cultures shape the refugee determination process and its outcomes. The moral and existential dilemmas the authors in this volume have faced, and continue to face, as refugees should serve as the basis of any authentic re-examination of the refugee process.

HUMANIZING REFUGEES: WHAT WE’VE LEARNED

Over the decades, Canada has variously invited refugees into the house or turned them away, as George Melnyk shows in his contribution to this volume. Sometimes government responses have emphasized humanitarian considerations, while at other times Canada has reacted with exclusionary policies that spark conflict and criticism. Refugee workers such as Eusebio Garcia and Shelley Campagnola do their best to help asylum seekers navigate the bureaucratic processes of a cumbersome system that may, or may not, eventually allow them to remain in Canada—the country where, by the time a decision is made, they may already have lived for several years. Because of bureaucratic delays, private sponsors like Katharine Lake Berz and Julia Holland are sometimes left in limbo waiting for a family to support. As they also discovered, refugees—while relieved to no longer be in limbo themselves—live with fears, sorrows, and regrets, even as they are abruptly plunged into a radically unfamiliar culture.

The key issue facing any refugee is the process of settling in their new home. Their perceptions of identity and belonging shape how they negotiate new ways of bridging and connecting their experiences. Their identities are in a process of transformation, and conflicts may never be resolved. Identity may be socially constructed, but it is not a singular construct; it is multiple and fluid. It shifts in response to social contexts, yet it also reflects a person’s cultural heritage, which persists but is recontextualized when they move from one national setting to another. We see this process of bridging old and new in Boban Stojanović’s story. His experiences with persecution in Serbia deeply influence his connection to his new Canadian identity, but they also continue to fuel his gay activist identity.

What we have learned throughout the stories in this book is that is takes a great deal of courage to make the journey to a foreign place as a refugee. Each refugee moves with their own story, yet their courageous actions move with them. Their courage is further tested as they attempt to integrate in their new home, all apparently with varying levels of support. The Hassan family made their courageous journey from Syria, and their connection to their private sponsors has provided them with a strong support system. As a refugee settlement worker, Garcia frequents the Immigration Holding Centre, where he visits with those detained when attempting to enter Canada. Those detained at point of entry do not always have their claims approved, and many are deported, as they lack the resources and justification to support their claim. Clearly, there are some refugees who experience a high level of support and others who are not as fortunate. Many assumptions and responses to refugees are skewed by misperceptions based on the identities of those claiming refugee status. Their identities including gender, class, race, religion, or literacy level, impact their experience and subsequent outcomes. Pablo Policzer closes his essay with a reflection on the processes used to screen refugees. “At some point in the future, perhaps, refugees may be able to become citizens without continually demonstrating their victimhood,” he writes. This would be a significant development, as victimhood is something most refugees would like to put behind them.

The outcomes for refugees in Canada vary just as much as the levels of support refugees receive. Refugees are faced with internal and external obligations of doing good and being good. Victor Porter’s arrival in Canada in the 1980s, after experiencing torture during his four years as a political prisoner in Argentina, was marked with further challenges, as he learned how to speak English and to integrate while working in minimum-wage jobs to build a new life. Matida Daffeh continues to pursue her studies, despite her ongoing fears about her past and future. Despite the many integration challenges that refugees face, they are still burdened with the expectation to “do good and be good.” In exchange for their chance at a new life in Canada, they are expected to carry gratitude with them forever and be exemplary residents.

All the same, those seeking refuge in Canada are full of hope. They wish to find a reason to be thankful. The voices represented in this book speak to the truths, triumphs, and tribulations of coming to Canada and resettling in a new home. These stories—the hope and resilience embedded in each—must allow us to gain the courage necessary to participate in the struggle for the ongoing support of people who have sought refuge in Canada. In 2016, when Justin Trudeau formally apologized on behalf of the Canadian people for refusing entry to the passengers on the Komagata Maru more than a century earlier, he said: “When we have the choice between opening our arms to those in need or closing our hearts to them, we must always choose the more compassionate path.” It is a fitting reminder with which to end.

1 Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, “The Danger of a Single Story,” TEDGlobal, July 2009, https://www.ted.com/talks/chimamanda_ngozi_adichie_the_danger_of_a_single_story?language=en.