Pamela Glode-Desrochers and her staff have been working around the clock to support their Halifax community during the COVID-19 pandemic. The executive director of the Mi’kmaw Native Friendship Centre says despite a lack of government funding, the centre is providing emergency support to the nearly 6,000 people who use their services every year. 

“We didn’t stop working — it became more hectic for us,” Glode-Desrochers explains. 

The Canadian government announced a $305-million package to support the country’s Indigenous population during the pandemic, of which $15 million has been committed to organizations in urban areas, while the rest is distributed amongst First Nations, Inuit, and Metis Nation communities. 

Glode-Desrochers says $15 million isn’t enough for organizations serving urban Indigenous people: “The amount of lack of response for urban Indigenous response was kind of disturbing to me.”

Friendship centres across the country — who have been supporting First Nations, Inuit, and Métis people in urban areas since the 1950s —  have been vocal about the insufficiency of the funding, which will be disbursed to successful organizations following a proposal process. 

We’re trying to make decisions that may cost lives or may save lives and you want me to write a proposal?

Friendship centres provide a range of services for members including employment programs, healthcare, housing support, shelter, mental health counselling, daily meals, and youth programming. On Monday, The National Association of Friendship Centres (NAFC) was notified it would receive $3.7 million of government funding, although it is unclear when they will have access to the funding.

Jocelyn Formsma, executive director of the NAFC says even if the association was granted the entire $15 million allocated to urban Indigenous organizations, it would only cover about one month of food, protective equipment, and other immediate costs for their 107 member friendship centres and provincial/territorial associations in Canada. 

As all qualifying organizations were asked to submit proposals for funding, Formsma also says this process puts organizations serving urban Indigenous communities in competition with one another. She says organizations don’t know who applied for the funds, or what they applied for, and wants to see more coordination to ensure there are no service gaps. 

Glode-Desrochers says the centre’s staff have been stretched thin during this crisis and the application process is unnecessarily laborious. “Here we are in the middle of a pandemic and the first thing I [am told] is, ‘You have to write a proposal.’ Are you kidding me? We’re trying to make decisions that may cost lives or may save lives and you want me to write a proposal?” 

She says there is a double standard when it comes to granting funding to Indigenous organizations. “It’s frustrating when you see the government give money [directly] to… national organizations and we have to apply.”  

Before being granted emergency COVID-19 funding, friendship centres continued to support their communities. Glode-Desrochers says she is making decisions based on what she knows her community needs, without considering what the financial costs are, adding that she is “expensing things and on a wish and a prayer.” 

The Centre purchased $55,000 worth of gift cards to support community members in buying essentials such as groceries. It has also increased operating costs as a result of transforming the Centre into a 24/7 shelter and paying to house vulnerable people in hotels. 

“If some of our programs don’t continue, especially around harm reduction and homelessness and housing, people will die. Point blank. People will die,” Desrochers says. 

The Mi’kmaw Native Friendship Centre provides a range of programming including harm reduction programs, justice programs, pre- and post-natal services, and an emergency shelter for Indigenous women escaping violence.

If some of our programs don’t continue, especially around harm reduction and homelessness and housing, people will die.

The Centre needs $200,000 to cover emergency response costs until the end of June. Glode-Desrochers says she didn’t wait for the government’s announcement; she was already reaching out to funders about the budget gap. The United Way Centraide Canada granted the Centre $15,000 and Status of Women Canada gave $10,000. 

At a national level, the Mastercard Foundation donated $1 million to the NAFC to support friendship centres and provincial/territorial associations with their COVID-19 response. NAFC president Christopher Sheppard Buote says this donation recognizes they have been “doing the best they can, with limited resources… from the start of the pandemic.”

While the assumption is that Indigenous people who live in the city have better access to services, there is less programming that is culturally sensitive. Glode-Desrochers explains that Indigenous people are less likely to be comfortable or trust support from mainstream organizations. Formsma says Indigenous-specific organizations bring culturally relevant expertise that mainstream organizations cannot. “Even though we’re in a global pandemic, racism doesn’t take a break,” she says. 

Meanwhile, friendship centres across Canada have been doing community outreach, sending care packages with traditional medicines and beading supplies, arts and crafts for children. They’ve also been delivering food hampers to community members in need, outfitting their centre windows to give people safe access to computers to apply for benefits, and running errands for those who are more at-risk during this pandemic.

In addition, Formsma explains that Indigenous organizations are better-positioned than mainstream groups to support people dealing with mental health or addictions issues as a result of surviving residential schools or intergenerational trauma. She says risks to these community members are heightened during the pandemic, as self-isolation may cause triggers; and that friendship centres are continuing their work, while questions about budgets remain. 

“There is only so much money to go around and we’re always fighting for it. And it’s done to us on purpose,” Glode-Desrochers says. While both Glode-Desrochers and Formsma have champions within the various levels of government, they say the system itself is broken, leaving them “fighting for scraps.”

“I hope when this is all done, that the system may change for us. And I’m not sure it will, but I have to have that faith,” Desrochers says. 

Our team is working around the clock to deliver insightful stories, analysis, and commentary on the effects of COVID-19 on the social impact world. If you like our content, please consider becoming a member. Start a 14-day free trial now.

Tell us this made you smarter | Contact us | Report error