Winnie Czulinski –
Syria, Iran, Cameroon, Eritrea and Afghanistan. These worlds and these people are prominent at the Cathedral Church of St. James on King Street East as its refugee committee marks its 10th anniversary in November.
In autumn 2015, images of drowned Syrian-Kurdish refugee child Alan Kurdi face down on a beach galvanized many people to try to help those facing lives of unimaginable horror. The Kurdi family reportedly had hoped to reach Canada.
Rebecca McTaggart, co-chair of the St. James and Community Refugee Committee, says, “If you tell someone there are over 100 million displaced people in the world, it’s not particularly meaningful to them.”
Then she’ll tell the story of Bibi, a 71-year-old Afghan grandmother who was on her own, vulnerable to the Taliban – and brought to safety in Toronto, to join her children and grandchildren.
McTaggart, a long-time director-general of the Immigration and Refugee Board, says, “It’s not often that you get to say you’ve changed somebody’s life in some sort of fundamental way.” They’re here because “the level of oppression or fear or violence is such that they had no other choice. What we enable is for them to be able to start that new life in a new country, which is incredibly difficult.”
As part of the Diocese of Toronto, and with a committee of ten to twelve people, St James works with the Anglican United Refugee Alliance (AURA), the sponsorship agreement holder. The process may take up to a few years, with delays from countries overseas. Once in Canada, refugees are sponsored for 12 months.
“In that period, which goes by very quickly, we try and help them develop the skills and abilities to be resilient and carry on with their lives. Our job is to help them be able to thrive.”
The cost may be up to $40,000, even $60,000, with funds used for purposes such as housing, education and interpreters, and the 101 things daily living involves.
Refugees grapple with language, housing, illness and snow. But more than gratitude for warm winter jackets, there’s the realization of freedom.
Also active in refugee work is the nearby Metropolitan United Church, on Queen Street East and Church Street. Committee member Darrel Zehr, from a Mennonite background, found himself working on a sponsorship with former politician Paul Hellyer.
The new Metropolitan United committee took on a family with high needs – several children, injured father, and with no family in Toronto. The church group, including a retired school principal and a connection with St. Michael’s Hospital, came together and “really worked for that family,” says Zehr. Metropolitan United recently helped another family, from Afghanistan.
“It’s humbling,” Zehr says. “It makes us more aware of what’s going on in the world today, and how fortunate we are here and what we can do.” That could be anything from help with accommodations and school, to picking up furniture or taking someone to the dentist.
Other downtown churches such as Holy Trinity have also assisted refugees, from El Salvador to Kosovo. Since 2007, Metropolitan Community Church, near Gerrard Street East and Logan Avenue, has helped more than 8,000 LGBTQ+ refugees; brought 75 LGBTQ+ refugees to Canada, and supports over 850 refugees a year.
To raise funds, churches hold walkathons and special concerts, or a feast from the Afghan-food catering company of a former refugee. Toronto also has a history of faith groups teaming up – churches joining with mosques, mosques with synagogues, an ayatollah and a rabbi, a priest and a Muslim imam.
Bayan Khatib, who founded the Syrian Canadian Foundation in 2015, worked then with her downtown mosque, Toronto Masjid (on Dundas Street West, and Adelaide Street East), and the First Unitarian Church to sponsor a Syrian family: Talek, Walaa and their two children.
“The way that people come together in Canada is really wonderful and perhaps unique, and the sponsorship and support of Syrian refugees was just one of the great examples,” says Khatib, whose own family was sponsored by a church 30 years earlier.
For refugee-committee members like St. James’ McTaggart, “It’s the best feeling ever to stand at the airport and say, ‘Welcome to Canada. Bienvenue au Canada.’”
McTaggart and her colleagues get to see newcomers ultimately receive college diplomas, land jobs, settle traumatized families – and learn how to skate. She recalls being at the Nathan Phillips Square rink when Afghan refugee Raihana got some help – from an Asian, an Australian, and a Ugandan refugee doing the lacing-up.
Says McTaggart, “What a Canadian moment!”
