Hannah Vogan

Secularism in action

Local Journalism Initiative / / / , , , , , ,

Fatima Khan’s course material. Courtesy Fatima Khan

Hannah Vogan,
Local Journalism Initiative

Bill 21’s consequences on Muslim women wanting to teach in Quebec

Fatima Khan is the definition of a powerhouse, with an indestructible dedication to her passion as an art educator. However, due to Quebec’s secularism law, none of Khan’s devotion or skills matter because her religion makes her ineligible to work in the province’s public school system.

Khan’s current norm consists of working more than 12 hours everyday, five days per week, with her weekends booked up with a part-time job. Anytime Khan finds herself in a rare moment of quiet, she leverages her peace to prepare her art lessons for her students. 

She is about one month away from graduating with a degree in art education specialization at Concordia—her second degree from the university. 

“It’s so intense, I don’t know how I am doing it,” Khan said, exhaling.

To graduate, Khan must complete four internships for her degree: two at an elementary school and two at a high school. She must accomplish 700 hours in internships throughout her entire degree. Her final year consisted of 140 hours in her fall semester and 350 hours in her winter semester, all while still attending classes, keeping up with course material, preparing lesson plans for her students and maintaining a steady income by working from 11 a.m. to 5 p.m. on weekends at a library. 

Most days, she leaves her house at 7:15 a.m. and doesn’t get home until close to 9 p.m.

By their second internship, students in the art education specialization can begin substitute teaching, or in other words, start getting paid for the work they already do.

Khan was eager to start substitute teaching. To become a registered substitute teacher, she had to fill in the required documents with the help of her supervisor or principal, and Khan did just that. However, overcome by busyness, Khan couldn’t complete the forms. 

She would try again the following year, just in time for her final internships.

Khan started her final internships in September 2023. She taught two classes per week in the fall semester and, in the winter, led a total of seven art classes for five days per week. 

When it came time for Khan to choose her final internship placement, her decision was a no-brainer. Khan sought to finish off strong at the English primary and secondary school St. Johns in Saint-Jean-sur-Richelieu, where she and a sizable chunk of her family are former students. The school is well known to her, as are the staff, the community and the space. She could have chosen any school but chose St. Johns for its familiarity.

With one placement to go, familiar faces, and a comfortable environment where she’d frequently be teaching, Khan felt it was time to try again with her substitute teaching application. Upon giving her completed forms to the school’s secretary, the secretary assured Khan that she would have nothing to worry about; her forms would be taken care of and she was on the cusp of becoming a registered substitute. 

About an hour after submitting her forms, the secretary came to the art class Khan led. “The principal wants to see you,” she told Khan.

At the time, the principal was Colleen Lauzier, who already knew most of Khan’s siblings and her parents.

Khan had no idea what to expect of her summoning; what came next never even crossed her mind. 

When Khan sat down with Lauzier, the principal began explaining the parameters of Bill 21. 

Bill 21 was established in 2019 and declares Quebec a secular state. The law prohibits public sector workers in positions of authority from wearing religious symbols on the job, such as judges, police officers and teachers. Those exempt from the law include members of the national assembly and public sector workers employed before March 2019 as long as they remain in their positions.

Khan recalled Lauzier underlining how she could not be hired and that submitting her documents was pointless.

Khan said Lauzier asked whether she would remove her hijab when she came in as a substitute. This meant Khan could wear her hijab on days she is interning, yet she must set aside her faith on the days she is substitute teaching and being financially compensated. Lauzier denies that she asked Khan to remove her hijab.

Khan was appalled.

To Khan, Lauzier knew of her Muslim faith and knew removing her hijab was not an option.

“To answer your question, no, I will not be removing my hijab on the days I will be subbing or anywhere else,” replied Khan.

According to Khan, Lauzeir apologized, affirming to Khan that she must abide by the law and refused to hire her.

Khan then asked Lauzier if she could at least put her name in the system so that if the law were to be abolished, Khan could start substitute teaching.

Khan recounted Lauzier’s denial again.

Khan said Lauzier told her that if the law were to be abolished, she would hire Khan right on the spot—even if her documents were not entirely completed—and that Khan would have Lauzier’s full support.

Lauzier’s comments confused Khan, “I was thinking, ‘Why would I need your support then? By the time I graduate, I am going to be a qualified art educator, I don’t need your support then. Right now, we are trying to fight this discriminatory law, and you are not being supportive.'” 

Khan was enraged. She thought the interaction in the principal’s office was racist and that Lauzier demonstrated no care for her situation.

“If I can’t teach, and I know I can’t teach here, the least you could do is support me in this whole process,” Khan told The Link.

Khan at least hoped Lauzier would pretend to show solidarity by trying to speak with the school board and seeing what she could do. Yet being told upfront that she could not be hired because of her hijab left Khan disheartened, questioning the time and effort she had put into St. Johns.

“I’m giving so much,” stressed Khan. “She could have just pretended or been a little more sympathetic. She could’ve made that little gesture of kindness.”

Khan questions working in a community setting when its foundation is based on exclusion and secularism. She noted how barring her from teaching impacts her and the students.

“Right now, in secondary three, there is a student who is fairly new and Muslim. When I’m in class, his face lights up because representation matters,” Khan said, stressing the word representation. 

Growing up, Khan did not have representation in the classroom. “For Colleen to make that decision without even a second thought for me or the students or the community was very evident of a privileged place,” said Khan. “When you are privileged enough, you don’t have a second thought for the other person’s struggle.”

“I can do my internship totally fine because I am not getting paid. But suddenly I want to sub, I want to teach, my hijab is an issue,” Khan said.

Khan recounted multiple scenarios where she primarily led the classes, and the teacher would sit back and supervise. “You tell me, how is that fair?” said Khan. “I will take full responsibility of the entire class, and someone else will come just to sit there. And then they get paid?”

To Julius Grey, a constitutional lawyer for about five decades, the contradiction Khan describes “is classified under the rubric of idiocy.” 

Idil Issa, a Muslim law student at McGill University, who founded Femmes Musulmanes du Québec, believes Khan’s situation is a prime example of “how impossible it is for Muslim women to create their careers as teachers in Quebec right now. It is just so impossible, so unfair. Even if she is super qualified, she is met with these tumbling blocks.”

Issa noted that the law creates a norm within Quebec society of who is a good citizen. “To be a good citizen, you are not allowed to publicly express your faith,” she said. “It creates an environment of permissiveness. Because the government introduced Bill 21, people who may be Islamophobic, antisemitic, really have a sort of green light in order to continue with their views and goals. If there is a law that actually enshrines these values of intolerance, then individuals really feel enabled to express those Islamaphobic views because the government is really co-signing that type of view.”

Bill 21 was recently challenged in the Quebec Court of Appeal, with many advocates stressing that the law is unconstitutional and infringes on section two of the Canadian Charter, which guarantees everyone’s right to freedom of conscience, religion, thought, belief, expression and so on.

“Any violation of an individual’s conscience is unethical,” argued Grey. “The conscience of the individual must be given priority. That’s the essence of liberal democracy.” 

In February 2024, the court ruled Bill 21 constitutional after exploiting the notwithstanding clause, a section of the Canadian Constitution that protects legislation from most court challenges over violations of fundamental rights. 

“There is no doubt that if there was no notwithstanding clause, this would be struck down in five minutes,” said Grey, one of the intervenors on behalf of the plaintiff for the recent appeal. He argued before the court that the law was unconstitutional. “What the Bill does is it says ‘this law operates notwithstanding the charter,’ both Quebec and Canadian charter.”

Khan’s colleagues who were to be interviewed for the article were not permitted to speak to The Link, nor was The Link permitted on St. Johns’ premises. 

“[The school and Board] talk about all of this diversity, and they talk about all of this accountability, all of this fancy stuff that only looks good in books. But when it comes to a controversial situation like mine, then they just want to sweep it under the rug and not talk about it,” Khan said. 

The Link contacted Lauzier and Riverside School Board (RSB), which administers St. Johns, to comment on the principal’s encounter with Khan and the board’s stance on equality and diversity. 

The statement received, penned by Lucie Roy, the director general of RSB, was written on behalf of the school board and Lauzier. The statement reaffirms RSB’s stance of valuing and honouring “all faces, voices, realities, and experiences, and ensure that ours is an organization where children, youth and adults are acknowledged, respected, welcomed and empowered. We commit to the ongoing work required to keep equity and inclusion at the forefront of our reflection and decision-making […] Supporting equity, diversity and inclusion is an ongoing endeavour at Riverside.” 

The statement continued highlighting that RSB is compelled to abide by Bill 21 and strives to apply the law with sensitivity and compassion. The statement concluded with the Board denying Khan’s recollection of events, writing, “Conveying this information was perceived as a request to remove a religious symbol which was not the case,” adding Lauzier navigated the legislation with “great care and respect.”

However, according to Khan, the request to remove her hijab is far from false. She feels the denial of her claim confutes their statement. “Stop promoting diversity, because you really don’t believe in it. When somebody is speaking up for justice or against discrimination, you shut it down right there,” she said.

March 28 marked the final day of Khan’s internship and possibly the last time she would ever lead a class at St. Johns or in Quebec again. Typically, following graduation, interns are invited to teach at the schools where they worked, and if it weren’t for Bill 21, Khan would continue to work with the school where she and her family had deeply rooted themselves.

“I don’t have a choice but to leave Quebec,” said Khan. “If I can’t teach. If I cannot continue to pursue my career and my goals and my passion, what am I doing here?”

After graduation, Khan will move away from her home, siblings and parents. She has family outside of Quebec and plans to move in with them to begin teaching the subject she loves most.

Upon Khan’s departure from St. Johns, she had to explain to her students why she would not be returning. Khan shared how her students were heartbroken that she wasn’t able to teach because of her hijab. In her three months interning at St. Johns, Khan noted how the students really took to her.  

“You can see it in the students; if I was not a good teacher, if I was not fit for this [they would not have this reaction]. They all enjoyed having me as their teacher,” Khan said.

Many of her students did research on the law because of Khan’s situation.

“If I leave Quebec and I didn’t speak up about this law, I would have this huge regret. I want to speak up, even if things don’t change or stay the same or get worse. At least I know I did my part as a Quebec citizen, as a Canadian citizen, as a human being.”

This article originally appeared in Volume 44, Issue 13, published April 2, 2024.

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Divestment then. Divestment now. Why does it seem tougher?

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The student-led divestment movement against Israel follows a similar framework to the one that helped liberate South Africa from Apartheid. Photo Andraé Lerone Lewis

Hannah Vogan,
Local Journalism Initiative

A look at the historic student-led divestment campaign against Apartheid South Africa and the current against Israel

From 1949 to the early 1990s, South Africa was under the boot of a racist, oppressive, nationalist, segregationist regime.

It went by the name Apartheid, which in Afrikaans translates to ‘separateness.’ The minority of white South Africans dominated the region socially, economically and politically, impoverishing the Black population. Eighty-six per cent of South Africa’s land was apportioned to white people, with the remaining 14 per cent to the Black population per the Native Trust and Land Act enacted in 1936. Sexual relations between different races were illegal. Black people could not vote or form political parties. They had limited access to education and were excluded by law from holding skilled jobs, as they were reserved for whites. The Apartheid government also enforced a mandatory birth control plan for the Black population to suppress their growth.

In the 1960s, activists began denouncing the racist regime by calling for divestment from South Africa. The movement grew to immense popularity in the late 1970s. Student campaigns popped up around the globe demanding their educational institutions to economically isolate from Apartheid South Africa. Upwards of 200 universities and colleges in the United States took part in the grassroots movement against Apartheid, which notably stemmed from Columbia University, Yale, Berkeley and Stanford. Canadian students dually partook in the movement with campaigns from the University of British Columbia, York, Queen’s, Dalhousie, University of Toronto, McGill and Concordia. 

On Nov. 19, 1985, following years of pressure from anti-Apartheid student activists, McGill became the first Canadian university to divest wholly from South Africa, with York and Dalhousie following soon after. According to The Link‘s archives, McGill’s Board of Governors (BoG) voted 9-4 to divest $45 million CAD from companies doing business in South Africa.

A number of McGill’s student activists’ success in pressuring the university to comply with their demands can be attributed to the university’s South Africa Committee (SAC). Barbara Jenkins, was a political science student at McGill, the chairman of SAC, an undergraduate representative on McGill’s BoG and a student union representative in 1980, a year after SAC’s inception. 

While she was chairman, her goal was to raise awareness about divestment. Jenkins was at every BoG meeting, consistently bringing up the problematic nature of the university’s ties to South Africa.

“It became such a big student movement on campus,” Jenkins told The Link. “It became the movement on campus.” 

She noted that following BoG meetings, the governors would regard her speeches as unimportant. The governors saw Jenkins as no more than ‘cute.’ She recalled an instance where the chair of the BoG at the time allegedly came up to her after she made a rousing speech for divestment, saying: “Oh, my sweet little girl, can I give you a kiss?” Nevertheless, SAC and students united for the cause never backed down.

She explained how the group’s popularity grew rapidly on campus as it organized protests, integrated into student government and continually raised questions at the Senate, while also handing out pamphlets, hosting events, talking to students, going to classes and delivering speeches.

To Jenkins, this persistence, coupled with years of advocacy, yielded success.

“Any successful grassroots movement takes time,” she said. “You have to be persistent and keep going, and building and building your influence until […] they can’t ignore you anymore.”

Jenkins also attributes McGill’s divestment to an overall shift in the political tide in 1985.

“It was starting to become more normal around the world to divest,” she said. 

An example of this shift was in the 1980s when the Canadian government encouraged Canadians to boycott Apartheid South Africa.

“I don’t even think I remember Concordia ever divesting formally from South Africa,” said Grant Spraggett, former Concordia student and organizer for Concordia University’s SAC, later renamed to Concordia Students Against Apartheid (CSAA).

Spraggett is correct. Concordia never divested formally from South Africa. Other associations within Concordia, however, did. 

CSAA was pushing for Concordia to divest its funds from the Bank of Montreal (BMO). At the time, the university had more than $54 million in outstanding loans to the South African government and its agencies, according to The Link’s archives.

In the same month McGill divested, Concordia’s BoG established a 10-member standing committee on social policy to consider divestment, including two members who head companies that bank with BMO.

In 1986, the Concordia University Faculty Association (CUFA) withdrew all the money it had invested in BMO and transferred it to government securities instead, citing moral reasons warranting the decision to divest. 

That same year, Concordia University Students Association (CUSA), later renamed the Concordia Student Union (CSU), decided all Carling O’Keefe products would be boycotted and no longer sold by CUSA due to the brewery’s ties and “symbolic connections” to South Africa. 

Spraggett was on CSAA until he graduated in about 1985. He had found and shortly after joined CSAA while they were tabling.

“We used to set up tables everywhere,” Spraggett noted. CSAA would set up their tables outside the Hall building cafeteria and spark up conversations with other students, screen documentaries, hand out flyers and advertise events.

According to Spraggett, CSAA was primarily an educational group with the goal of mobilizing divestment locally.

“Divestment was a core issue, which is why the local was involved,” Spraggett emphasized.  “We are implicated, and we should know that we can do something about it.”

CSAA may not have had the same campus influence compared to McGill’s SAC, but they made due. 

“We showed movies because you didn’t see much about Apartheid on the news,” Adrian Archer told The Link. “The movies dealt with the personal lives of these people under this regime that controlled your life from cradle to grave.”

Like Spraggett, Archer chatted with students who stopped by the CSAA table to provide context about the reality of Apartheid.

“I would also explain to people on the tables what Apartheid was like,” said Archer, who educated himself extensively on the matter at the time. “I could give students the concrete information that they could identify with, and that was key to me.”

Spraggett, Archer and Jenkins all agree that the anti-Apartheid movement took time but was nonetheless successful, and was nowhere near as complicated and widely-debated as the current divestment movement against Israel.

“There was no other side to the anti-Apartheid movement, merely inertia and indifference,” Spraggett said.

“The support South Africa had was not equivalent to the support Israel has from, for example, the United States,” Archer said.

Pro-Palestinian activists and students in Montreal have long been calling on Concordia and McGill for an academic boycott and divestment from Israel. The pressure has only increased as Israeli attacks have killed more than 40,000 Palestinians in Gaza since Oct. 7, 2023. The coalition of pro-Palestinian students leading the demand on university divestment, the Montreal Popular University of Gaza, is composed of and supported by organizations like Solidarity for Palestinian Human Rights McGill and Concordia, and Palestinian Youth Movement Montreal. This student movement follows a similar framework to the academic boycott of Apartheid South Africa in the 1980s, which contributed to the liberation of Black South Africans. Students are demanding the university comply with the Boycott, Divestment, Sanctions (BDS) movement, which works to “end international support for Israel’s oppression of Palestinians and pressure Israel to comply with international law.“

The CSU voted to divest from Scotiabank in March due to accusations of the bank investing in Elbit systems, which produce weapons for the Israeli Defense Force. However, in the past few years, it has made no by-laws or public statements about divestment or BDS. In the 1980s, the CSU voted in agreement that the university should divest from entities tied to and funding the Apartheid state of South Africa. The CSU has yet to respond to The Link’s request for comment after multiple attempts to clarify the union’s stance on divestment, particularly in alignment with the BDS movement.

Concordia has made its stance on BDS crystal clear.

“Concerning BDS specifically, [Concordia] stated clearly in 2014 that barring contact with other universities and scholars would be contrary to the value of academic freedom—a pillar of all universities,” Concordia spokesperson Vannina Maestracci said.

Though the current academic boycott against Israel follows the same structure as the one in the 1980s, activists are having a harder time garnering support because it is a much more divisive matter.

Michael Bueckert, vice president of Canadians for Justice and Peace in the Middle East, compared the South African anti-Apartheid movement to the current BDS movement in his PhD dissertation. Bueckert said he believes that, even if the same tactics are being applied to a new case of oppression, pro-Palestiain activists are having a more challenging time building a case as the movement is being framed as an issue of antisemitism.

He explained how there was a fringe of people who believed the boycott of South Africa was racist to white South Africans, “yet very few people fell for that,” Bueckert said.

“Whereas, with the history of Jewish persecution and genocide, I think people are much more likely to see the sorts of claims as credible when you say that boycotting Israel is racist,” he said. 

Like Jenkins, Bueckert added how it takes time to thrust a movement into the agreeable mainstream with many social dynamics changing the way people think about a movement’s credibility.

“The anti-Apartheid movement in the South Africa case really spent decades organizing before they really got a lot of traction,” Bueckert said.

In 2016, Parliament voted to condemn Canadians who used divestment tactics against Israel in solidarity with Palestinians, signalling to activists Canada’s strong stance with Israel. However, Bueckert notes that with persistent movements, each small step taken toward liberation is an example of the changing tide, like Canada halting arms sales to Israel.

“[This] is something that, a year previously, we couldn’t have imagined,” Bueckert noted.

To Bueckert, it is not just students but all areas in civil society that need to demand change to spur the Canadian government into action. However, he believes students are essential to spearheading movements and building momentum that addresses complicity domestically.

“Power speaks its own language, and that language is often money. So long as there is money to go after, sites of resistance will be crushed,” Spraggett said. “But when money is held back from the powerful, that is one hope we might have.”

This article originally appeared in Volume 45, Issue 1, published September 3, 2024.

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No solutions, just evictions: Jacco Stuben, an unhoused man who recently experienced a challenging eviction, faces the threat again

Local Journalism Initiative / / /
Jacco Stuben trying to move his belongings before he is evicted by Transport Quebec. Photo Tuza Dulcinée

Hannah Vogan
Local Journalism Initiative

In a small forested area just steps away from a Westmount Sherwin-Williams paint store, tents and trinkets lay low beneath the trees, where Jacco Stuben and one other unhoused individual reside.

The residents were evicted from their previous encampment only two and a half months prior, enduring a hellish cycle of eviction and displacement. After recently being evicted from the encampment under Route 136 of the Ville-Marie Expressway, Stuben can’t seem to escape the shoving hands of the Transports et Mobilité durable Québec (MTQ).

“[MTQ is] throwing people out […] just rushing everybody out, all the people are [now] scattered on the streets,” Stuben told The Link.

One year ago, MTQ had signed a contract to do repair work on Route 136 of the Ville-Marie expressway; about 20 individuals had lived in the encampment for roughly five years. As preparations for construction began, MTQ realized it would threaten the safety of the individuals living under the expressway if construction proceeded, calling for an evacuation of the area.

MTQ faced criticism from activist groups, allies and shelters for evicting the residents of this encampment without providing adequate alternatives. On account of the campers’ first official eviction date, Montreal’s Autonomous Tenant Union (MATU) organized a public demonstration in retaliation, thus delaying the eviction to a later date.

MTQ’s pattern of proposing an eviction, receiving pushback from the community, and then halting evictions continued until March 2023, when campers were verbally informed by MTQ that the camp was to be vacated along with their belongings by the end of the month. Fifteen days after this notice, Mobile Legal Clinic (MLC), a team that represented the campers’ rights in court, solicited an injunction to prolong the end-of-month eviction against MTQ and arrange for suitable alternatives to the encampment. MLC sought to defer the eviction until mid-July to allow for the relocation of campers in friendly weather while culminating an action plan that redirects these individuals into stable housing, offering social reintegration programs and aiming to permanently detach them from the cycle of homelessness.

This gruelling legal battle ended after the judge ruled construction could no longer be postponed and that the campers would be evicted on July 11, 2023.

MTQ spokesperson Sarah Bensadoun said MTQ had only one purpose throughout all this, “to be able to find long-term housing for the campers.”

In documents acquired by The Link, it is revealed that from the period of Nov. 2022 to July 2023, MTQ spent $38,415 on protection activities—such as fencing and concrete barriers—for the campers and $57,210 on relocation (containers).

Still, only four people who lived under the bridge moved into government-subsidized housing. The others could put their belongings in lockers provided by MTQ and were left to scatter throughout the city.

Photo Tuza Dulcinée

Not only were the campers evicted, but more than half of them currently resorted to more threatening situations than before.

“Everyone is interested in looking good […] We all wanna look good. Frequently, people choose to look good over facing real problems that are with us,” David Chapman, the executive director of Resilience Montreal, told The Link. “They (MTQ) had people going in for the purposes of saying that they did [help the campers]. That was largely about the optics.”

Two and a half months after the Ville-Marie eviction, Stuben finds himself scrambling as he prepares to be ejected from a different piece of MTQ property in a matter of days.

“Everywhere, the [MTQ] want to conquer,” Stuben said.

Chapman has worked with Montreal’s unhoused population for years and has fought alongside encampment members for their rights since the beginning.

“If simply an alternative location would have been given to the people, there would’ve been no court case. All they needed to do is say where they could go. That proved impossible,” Chapman said, sharing his disappointment about Stuben’s situation.

According to Chapman, dismantling encampments and displacing campers ushers them in search of dark alleyways, small forested spots, and abandoned buildings, which isolates them from the community and forces them into dangerous situations.

“What’s concerning is for some of the folks who’ve headed to abandoned buildings, they won’t even tell me as an intervention worker where they are,” Chapman said. He added that the more secret the location, the lower the probability of eviction. However; “If something goes wrong, you really are in a predicament. There is no one there to administer naloxone. There is no community looking out for you. What it does is it just hastens the probability of an early death.”

On Apr. 11, a judge overseeing the case between MTQ and MLC found that if no alternative solution was granted to the campers in the event of an eviction, the campers would suffer irreparable harm.

“Bonds have been formed between them and as a result of the mutual assistance between them […] they consider themselves a community, which gives them a certain sense of security,” said Judge Chantal Massé in French.

Stuben has been told he is facing eviction due to complaints from neighbours. According to Bensadoun, MTQ must intervene with an encampment when a request by the city, police, or emergency services is made. Guillaume Rivest, press relations for the City of Montreal, told The Link in an email that “the City must intervene very quickly for the safety of all.”

The issue with the dissolution of encampments is the lack of options for those continually displaced.

Rivest declared that, “For the City of Montreal, urban encampments are not a viable, safe or lasting solution.”

Chapman believes rather than shutting down encampments, one could designate an area of a park, or an unused spot under a bridge, “an area where you can be left alone in the meantime,” said Chapman. Without resources to help people transition into subsidized housing and access to affordable housing, Chapman emphasized that encampments will continue to exist.

Shelters aren’t permanently a solution, either. Chapman told The Link, although shelters were liberally offered by MTQ partners to the campers, not one of them went.

Shelters tend to have strict rules, making accommodating individual needs challenging. Out of the 79 shelters listed on Quebec 211 on the island of Montreal, only six allow pets. Some shelters are gendered (which restricts heterosexual couples from living together), only offer daily accommodations or have limited bed availability. Others require interviews and applications by phone or email, and some shelters bear a zero intoxication tolerance, requiring users to do the difficult task of going cold turkey.

Stuben has plenty of belongings that make it difficult to move anywhere: he has an expensive grill he was gifted, which he loves to cook on. On Sept. 28, he was told he had 24 hours to evacuate his new spot. After some negotiation, MTQ asked Stuben to leave by Oct. 9. As of the last contact with Stuben, he is still struggling to collect his belongings and desperately needs a moving truck for transportation. All belongings left behind are thrown in the trash.

Evictions with no solid solution only shake the ground for the unhoused trying to find their footing. “It’s not fair. Don’t treat us so bad,” Stuben said.

No solutions, just evictions: Jacco Stuben, an unhoused man who recently experienced a challenging eviction, faces the threat again Read More »

Concordia Health Services refers student to “unprofessional” clinic: An out-of-province student was charged $150 with no receipt, for lacklustre service and a prescription of Reactine

Local Journalism Initiative / / /

Hannah Vogan

Local Journalism Initiative

Fresh into the semester, Olivia Steer, a second-year out-of-province full-time Concordia student spent days coping with a full-body rash and hives. When Steer began to miss classes as a result of her ailment, she sought refuge in Concordia Health Services (CHS). CHS is available to all students who pay their Student Service fee which is the sum of $11.11 per credit each semester.

On Sept. 29, Steer described her symptoms to a CHS nurse. After examination, the nurse advised Steer to see a doctor. However, Steer visited CHS on a Friday and the clinic only schedules doctor appointments Monday through Thursday. The nurse then handed Steer a sheet with two referral clinics listed: Queen Elizabeth Health Centre and Clinique Médicale Crescent, to which Steer called the latter of the clinics listed and booked an appointment. Steer was met with disappointment after CHS referred her to a clinic where their quoted client testimonials are dummy text, and the attributed photos are stock images.

Steer eventually arrived at the clinic at around 4:10 p.m. As she walked in, she felt uneasy. Steer notices printouts that read “seven dollar Botox,” and that the clinic was packed. Those who were unable to take a seat on the chairs provided stood or sat on the floor. As she checked in with the front desk, Steer clarified she is an out-of-province patient, to which the receptionist told her a fee of $150 is required for the appointment. When Steer said she would pay by card, the receptionist told her it was cash or e-transfer only, mentioning to Steer that there was an ATM across the street.

“I should’ve known just from that,” Steer told The Link.

The receptionist handed her a large printed paper with the email in which to e-transfer. After Steer sent the money, she was subsequently told that there was still a bit of a wait. The receptionist emphasized that the time you booked your appointment is not the time you will receive treatment.

Over five hours of sitting on the floor later, Steer was still waiting.

Meanwhile, Steer’s mother called the clinic to request a refund for her daughter as the service at this clinic had been anything but timely.

The clinic staff told her mother that there was no need for a refund, and that Steer was already in the doctor’s office: Steer was still in the waiting room.

By the second time Steer’s mother called, “They picked up, said nothing and hung up,” Steer said. “At this point, I’m fed up. This is not worth waiting this long. I could literally have traveled back to Ontario and saw my family doctor for free in that amount of time.”

Feeling irritated, Steer requested a refund so she could leave the clinic. Insisting they were unable to e-transfer her back, the receptionist insisted Steer would see the doctor shortly.

“I don’t know why they made it seem [impossible to issue a refund]. They literally refused to give me my money back,” Steer said.

The way the clinic took payments, you were unable to obtain a receipt. In Steer’s case, there was no way to verify that she paid for the service, she was unable to cover the treatment under her insurance.

Once again, Steer requested a refund; she wanted to go home. The receptionist then told her to “wait,” and put Steer in front of everyone who had been waiting longer than her.

By the time Steer met with the doctor, she told him, “before you say anything, I want a refund,” to which the doctor started to diagnose her. Compliantly, she told him her symptoms.

“I don’t know why I said anything, I should have kept it quiet,” Steer said. “He (the doctor) just didn’t care.” The doctor proceeded to prescribe her Reactine. “I could’ve gone to a pharmacy, and they could’ve told me that for free.”

With 111 reviews averaging a 2.3 star rating on Google, Steer questions why Concordia could not conduct a simple background check.

“I feel betrayed,” Steer said. “The fact that Concordia is making people go to this place is very odd. I feel like they haven’t had a background check on that place. I think whoever put that place down has never been.”

Steer’s experience is not unique.

Carly Hylton, a Quebec resident, is a registered nurse (RN) who is completing her bachelor’s degree in nursing at McGill. This past June, Hylton booked a blood draw at Clinique Médicale Crescent.

Hylton described the clinic as strange.

“It didn’t look very hygienic,” Hylton told The Link.

She noticed the clinic was hot, sticky and crammed. The prices for services were slightly higher than other private clinics, the two receptionists were on their phones texting—not really being responsive to patients—and the Botox advertisements plastered around the clinic alarmed Hylton.

The receptionists were confused about her requests to get her blood drawn. They told Hylton to sit and wait to see a doctor. This weirded Hylton out, she told them that for a blood draw she just needed to see a nurse.

The receptionist kept asking questions about her blood test, even though it was written on her requisition. “How do you not know what this is?” Hylton said.

Hylton left as the clinic exhibited “too many red flags.”

“I felt like the environment was very unprofessional, and kind of sketchy […] I waited for a half hour with no idea of what was happening.”

When told about Steer’s situation, Hylton was shocked.

“As a healthcare professional I am surprised,” Hylton said. “I think it is strange that [CHS] would be referring people to this clinic […] If I am referring people somewhere I personally check out the place.”

Hylton additionally expressed how prescribing Steer Reactine does not require an in-person physical assessment. “I think Concordia should take a stronger stance on this and help students access good care.”

She mentioned how there are tons of other private healthcare clinics in the downtown area. At a different clinic only minutes away, Hylton got her blood drawn “quicker,” for cheaper, and in a “clean environment.”

Concordia spokesperson Vannina Maestracci said Concordia has never received any formal complaints about this clinic, and only removes clinics from their reference list if they are told the clinic engages in problematic practices.

Clinique Médicale Crescent declined The Link’s interview request. A Link photojournalist was harassed on the street as she attempted to photograph the building.

Concordia Health Services refers student to “unprofessional” clinic: An out-of-province student was charged $150 with no receipt, for lacklustre service and a prescription of Reactine Read More »

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