It's been almost two years since Montreal's ombudsman denounced the “humanitarian crisis” plaguing the Milton Parc sector of the city center. Nadine Mailloux called for “not to look away” from the dozens of homeless Inuit who often survive drunk in this neighborhood. Was she heard?
It's snowing in Montreal. The wet snow soaks the shoes and pants of those who wear poor footwear. Winter is shaking up the habits of the homeless in Milton-Parc… but it isn't making them go away.
This afternoon two young women are patrolling the streets and alleys of this area near Mount Royal. These are psychosocial workers sent here by the city of Montreal.
Often, explains Lehia, we come across people in the entrances of companies seeking shelter from the elements. We also do the alleys to make sure no one hides in a corner and might overdose.
The tandem is part of the Mobile Mediation and Social Intervention Team (EMMIS), which patrols Montreal's central neighborhoods. In response to the Ombudsman's heartfelt call, the authorities commissioned a team in this sector.
Do you have everything you need? Lehia asks an older woman sitting alone on the sidewalk, leaning against the wall of a grocery store. Protected by a blanket, she asks for nothing but cigarettes. She just seems to be waiting for time to pass.
Lehia and her partner greet them and continue their patrol.
We try to interact with people. If we don't interact with them, we can't know their needs.
Contact limits
The two speakers walk up an alley. There is a lot of food waste on the floor near a container: water bottles, leftover food, a pizza box. Someone ate here.
A little further, near the cars parked by the residents of the buildings, there are more leftover food and dirty clothes. We're a long way from the Montreal of postcards.
Lehia talks about the less attractive city behind the scenes, [des lieux] that are actually real. And for the people I work with every day, it is their living environment. Survive.
The woman stretches her neck as she walks and checks detours to make sure no one is in the corners of the building or in the discreet emergency exits. Sometimes we come across homeless people who are heavily intoxicated and need to be woken up to make sure they are not in danger.
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Psychosocial worker Lehia is part of the mobile mediation and social intervention team set up by the City of Montreal.
Photo: Radio-Canada / Yanik Dumont Baron
The team often encounters Inuit walking and begging near restaurants and shops on Avenue du Parc. Often they are the only places where you can sit and seek shelter.
We will mediate, explains Lehia, and try to find a compromise between the dealer and the person occupying the space. Living together, no pressure.
The aim of EMMIS patrols is to replace police officers in less dangerous situations where social workers are better able to act as intermediaries between residents, traders and the homeless.
The speaker admits that sometimes you have to be creative to convince a homeless person to move out of a company. However, EMMIS interventions are not binding. In the event of a refusal, it is the dealer's responsibility to contact the police.
A controversial refuge
In the heart of this neighborhood is a shelter that is popular with Inuit homeless people. A warm place to stay overnight. This is the open door located in the basement of the Notre-Dame-de-la-Salette church.
To get there you have to go through the main entrance and go down two flights of stairs. Do not pay attention to the smells floating in the air, to the strange atmosphere that reigns there.
The room, which was presumably a common room, was partitioned off with white plastic sheeting. A thin wall that offers little privacy between the dozens of cots.
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Church of Notre-Dame de la Salette, on the Mont-Royal plateau
Photo: Radio-Canada / Gabrielle Paul
“You can hear everyone snoring, coughing and farting,” admits Lehia. It is the best we can offer. When this happens, or when we sleep outside on the street, in the cold, we tell ourselves that it's not that bad. […] They have a high tolerance threshold. Many behaviors that could be viewed as problematic are tolerated here.
The “Open Door” sometimes accommodates people who are prohibited from entering certain emergency shelters in the city. Very practical, especially in winter, says Lehia. It's a resource that helps me a lot.
However, the accommodation is seen as a source of problems by many residents. The place would act as a magnet for homeless people without offering them real opportunities to get off the streets.
The Milton-Parc Residents' Collective is calling for the closure of this accommodation in a stuffy, windowless and unhygienic basement. Her spokeswoman, Martine Michaud, says she wants something better for the homeless, but not directly in a family neighborhood.
A report by Yanik Dumont Baron will be presented on this topic in the program All Floorbroadcast on ICI Premiere on Sunday at 10 H.
Traders' impatience
Dealers also have their complaints, but few are willing to discuss them openly. Martine Michaud therefore carries her voice. Let's be clear: They're not doing well, she said.
There have been some pretty disastrous situations, she points out. People in crisis enter cafes, steal food, tips, and intimidate customers who want to enter the cafe.
Some of the traders surveyed by the Milton-Parc Residents' Collective estimate that their income has fallen by half since the Open Door Shelter opened in 2018.
These complaints are not new. The Ombudsman talked about this in his spring 2022 report. But little seems to have changed since then, say those who regularly walk in the neighborhood.
Ms Michaud recognized that the Ombudsman's report had the merit of awakening decision-makers. Her speech illustrates the urgency of action, the special need of the Inuit.
Boots should go along the way [à la Ville]. The residents have no solutions.
In their eyes, nothing is happening fast enough and some are on the verge of bankruptcy.
The Montreal Ombudsman has noted real efforts in terms of consultation, but there is still much to be done in terms of precautions and prevention.
Permanent housing for homeless indigenous people is planned to open, but not before the end of 2027, five years after the Ombudsman's wishes. The animal shelter could remain open until then.
An intergovernmental committee (bringing together the city, the province and the federal government) has also been established in the hope of better coordinating the actions of all involved. Further initiatives should be announced shortly. This reflects the position often repeated by municipal officials: Montreal cannot solve these complex problems alone; there needs to be a stronger commitment from Quebec and Ottawa.
Help, one at a time
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Simiuni Nauya, Inuk, employee of the Comm'un organization operating in the Milton Parc sector.
Photo: Radio-Canada / Yanik Dumont Baron
It's not just EMMIS that patrols Milton Parc. The organization Comm'un was founded following the presentation of the report, with the particular aim of listening to the homeless, who are the first to be affected by the situation.
In the evening it is bitingly cold as we follow Simiuni Nauya along Avenue du Parc. He is Inuk, a former hiker who can well understand the reality of the sector he also visited.
His face is familiar to the people we meet; he often sits on the ground despite the cold. They're smiling, he notices. They drink a beer together and beg.
He doesn't worry about those he suspects are a few feet higher up the open door, but he does worry about those who don't have a bed in the middle of winter.
We pass the spot where an Inuk was found frozen to death in a chemical toilet three years ago. Simiuni Nauya claims to have known Raphäel André, just as he has known others lost to overdoses or illness.
He speaks about the need to focus on the traumas that continue to haunt the Inuit of Milton-Parc. Scars left by the violence and abuse in the north and here.
Alcohol and drugs can mask these injuries. Temporarily reminds the speaker. It's not easy to get through all of this. The only way to numb the pain is to drink beer and drugs.
A few flakes fall from the black sky. It's cold, but that doesn't take away the smiles from the three Inuit sitting on the steps of a closed restaurant. They're excited about weed, Simiuni notes. Maybe they'll fall asleep soon.
He offers them cigarettes and exchanges a few jokes before leaving with a heavy heart.
I want to help you. I can maybe help one person at a time, but it's a lot of work.
Many of them need help.