The Kid Who Sits Next to You in Class (Study, 2020)
Undocumented childhood arrivals are young folk who were brought to Canada as children and who have lived here since, attending school, establishing friendships and community, developing a sense of themselves as Canadian, and planning Canadian futures, all without immigration status. South of our border they are colloquially known as Dreamers. However, in Canada, where undocumented childhood arrivals do not have the specific legislative pathways and protections that they have in United States, it’s as if they do not even have the option of “dreaming” of a route to citizenship.
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One important consequence of this legal and political deficit is that most Canadians are entirely unaware of the existence of these aspiring Dreamers. Yet they exist and the situation for most is bleak. Fear of deportation (for them and their families) means they are conditioned not to disclose their lack of status under any circumstances, hiding it from schools, teachers, friends, and community agencies. Many Dreamers do not even become unaware of their precarious immigration status until they are late teenagers. While able to access primary and secondary school through school boards’ ‘don’t ask don’t tell policies’, once they graduate high school their further education, career choices and lives are comprehensively curtailed. They are unable to build chosen futures and make engaged contributions to Canada’s social, economic, and civic systems, despite having had the benefit of a Canadian education. They struggle to obtain valid identification, bank accounts or driver's licenses, and access important services, safety-nets and legal assistance that Canadians take for granted. Without social insurance numbers, they are unable to work ‘legally’ and must find precarious employment, often in dangerous abusive workplaces. They struggle to secure housing in their own names, leaving them vulnerable to abuse by landlords. Most have only weak, if any, ties and connections to their countries of origin. Going “back” isn’t an option. Their secrecy and the lack of a Canadian “Dreamer” discourse means they often understand themselves as the only person in this situation.
In 2020 I began documenting these resilient and courageous young people. The project is necessarily a protracted and long form of documentation and story-telling, as the safety and security of these folk hinges on their continued invisibility. The two aspiring Dreamers whose images you see here have taken the first steps to apply for Canadian residency, risking everything they hold dear in the process. In each photograph, a Dreamer hides their face while simultaneously communicating the reality of their lived experience with poignant messages they've penned themselves.
With support from CASA (Childhood Arrival Support and Advocacy)