海角大神

Juan Luis Mendoza has spent more of his adult life on Canadian soil than Mexican. For eight months of each of the last 30 years, the Mexican agricultural worker has harvested sunflowers, cabbage, peaches, and strawberries from Ontario farms 鈥� missing the graduations of his three daughters as they moved from elementary to high school to college.

Today as COVID-19 has swept through migrant farms 鈥� three agricultural workers in the province have already died and more than 1,000 have been infected among some of the worst outbreaks in Canada 鈥� he wipes a tear from behind his glasses. But not because of the virus or fear of it. 鈥淵ou remember all that you missed with your family, all those moments,鈥� he says.

He recognizes all that he has gained by participating in Canada鈥檚 temporary foreign worker program, modeled after one in the United States. But he feels that the sacrifices he has made warrant permanent status. And now he says people are finally paying attention. 鈥淲e have contributed to the development of Canada,鈥� he says. 鈥淏ut we have been invisible, until this pandemic.鈥�

Mr. Mendoza joins a growing movement of agricultural and health care workers and asylum-seekers seeking permanent residence here. And many Canadians agree that the essential nature of their work and sacrifice, during the biggest modern threat to Canadian life, should be recognized, much the way immigrants in the U.S. are fast-tracked to citizenship if they serve in the American military. Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau has said he is looking into the possibility of granting asylum-seekers on the front lines of health care permanent status in Canada.

Editor鈥檚 note: As a public service,聽all our coronavirus coverage聽is free.聽No paywall.

They join a global movement sparked by the precarity that has been exposed by the pandemic. In Paris, more than 5,000 marched for legalization of the sans papiers, or聽unauthorized workers. In Portugal and Italy, governments have granted temporary rights to workers, while in Lebanon, where maids were abandoned by families who said they could no longer afford to pay, a push to end the 鈥渒afala system鈥� in which domestic workers are tied directly to one family has grown. Over the weekend, asylum-seekers, unauthorized workers, and migrant workers protested in Canadian cities demanding more rights and protections amid the pandemic.

鈥淚t鈥檚 part of a broader reckoning during this pandemic, in the kind of profound irony and hypocrisy that a lot of the most essential workers in our economies are often the worst treated and lowest paid,鈥� says Edward Dunsworth, a historian of migrant agricultural labor in Canada and soon assistant professor of history at McGill University in Montreal.

Guardian angels in a precarious situation

The movement for migrants has gained much traction in Quebec, the epicenter of Canada鈥檚 COVID-19 crisis, with half of all cases and more than 5,400 deaths. Some 80% of those have occurred in long-term care facilities, which were so depleted by the pandemic that the military had to come in to assist this spring. So too did asylum-seekers, says Wilner Cayo, an activist with the Quebec-based advocacy group Debout pour la dignit茅 (Stand Up for Dignity). He says between 1,200 and 1,400 asylum-seekers are working in Quebec鈥檚 health care sector, including many from Haiti and North Africa, and a large portion of the workers are nonwhite women who are living in poverty.

Quebec Premier Fran莽ois Legault began referring to these home care workers as 鈥済uardian angels.鈥� It鈥檚 a stark reversal from rhetoric that propelled him into office in the first place. In August 2017, he said Quebec couldn鈥檛 be expected to accept 鈥渁ll the world鈥檚 misery.鈥�

Now many recognize the service of those escaping misery 鈥� men like L鈥橦oucine El Arbane who came to Canada in 2016 and began a job as an orderly at a long-term care home north of Montreal in mid-April, making sure elderly patients there were well-fed, clean, and comfortable.

Courtesy of L鈥橦oucine El Arbane

L鈥橦oucine El Arbane started his first shift at a long-term care home north of Montreal a week after his baby girl (pictured) was born. He worried about the risk of bringing the coronavirus home.

His first shift started a week after his daughter Ghalya was born. He didn鈥檛 want to worry his wife. But his own anxiety rose with each red marker placed outside residents鈥� rooms to mark positive COVID-19 cases. 鈥淚 thought about quitting,鈥� he says. 鈥淓very [day] you would see funeral homes [arriving] with their stretchers to pick up a patient who had passed away. They were long days 鈥� long, long days.鈥�

Today as those numbers have gone down, he faces another uncertain road ahead. His original refugee claim was denied, and he resubmitted an application for permanent residence in March 2020. Now he waits.

Mr. Cayo says many asylum-seekers are suffering psychologically because they are unsure whether they will face deportation once the pandemic ends and their jobs are no longer deemed 鈥渆ssential.鈥� 鈥淔ran莽ois Legault [compared them] to guardian angels. Justin Trudeau called them humanitarian workers. Yet despite that glowing rhetoric, we still left them in a precarious situation as to their migration status,鈥� he says.

And the current proposals pertain narrowly to health care workers, launching a conversation about what 鈥渆ssential鈥� means, and why food processors or security guards in care homes, for example, wouldn鈥檛 also fit the definition.

鈥淭his issue of status鈥�

Patti Lenard, an associate professor at the University of Ottawa鈥檚 Graduate School of Public and International Affairs, says all of those who need protection in Canada should be granted it. Still she likens the moment to grant health care workers a path to residence to Mr. Trudeau鈥檚 promise in 2015 to resettle 25,000 Syrian refugees in Canada. The political class and the public were on board then just as they are today.

鈥淭here鈥檚 a political will here [today] in a government, which has been pretty reluctant to recognize the claims of asylum-seekers and refugees and is pretty hostile to certain categories of immigrants,鈥� Dr. Lenard says.

Among them are temporary workers, who number as many as 60,000 every year to work in agriculture and food production. This year the program, central to Canada鈥檚 food security, was initially in doubt over possible border closures. It went forward with workers required to quarantine for 14 days upon arrival in Canada. But still the virus spread, many public health officials say, because of bunking arrangements.

Dr. Dunsworth says his research has shown that as programs have grown in scale since the first was established in 1966 鈥� and as Canadian farming has become a more centralized, corporate industry 鈥� conditions have worsened for workers. But it鈥檚 been hard to draw attention to that, in part because of the program鈥檚 juxtaposition to American farming. 鈥淏ecause of how prevalent undocumented labor is on farms in the U.S., these managed migration programs are actually seen in a more positive light compared to the abuses and the ever-present dangers for undocumented workers,鈥� he says.

He says permanent residence for temporary workers would protect them 鈥� giving them the power to walk away from an abusive boss, unsafe conditions, or, particularly relevant in today鈥檚 environment, poor living conditions. It doesn鈥檛 mean, he says, they would necessarily 鈥� or even want to 鈥� stay in Canada permanently. Permanent residence 鈥渨ouldn鈥檛 solve every single issue,鈥� he says. 鈥淏ut a lot of these problems really lead back to this issue of status.鈥�

Syed Hussan agrees. As executive director of the Migrant Workers Alliance for Change in Toronto, he is trying to protect the rights and welfare of migrants,聽unauthorized workers, and refugees in Canada. But it is an uphill battle; for example, Ontario Premier Doug Ford recently changed rules to allow workers who test positive but are asymptomatic to continue working.

鈥淚 think it is very possible that there鈥檚 a huge instinct and a desire to return to normal,鈥� Mr. Hussan says. 鈥淣ormal was just not good enough.鈥�

Editor鈥檚 note: As a public service,聽all our coronavirus coverage聽is free.聽No paywall.