The Mosaic is Not Broken

What finally pushed me to write about immigration in Canada was an incident that happened while I was checking into a hotel.

A man walked in who was clearly struggling. He was yelling and talking loudly to himself. The receptionist’s response was immediate: “Well, at least this is not immigrants’ fault.” The fact that someone felt the need to say that, as a defence and as an explanation for that man’s presence, broke something in me. They must have heard this accusation so many times that justifying their belonging has become second nature. I have been thinking about that moment ever since.

I have been working in and around immigration policy in a more or less official capacity since 2023. But my experience of immigration began long before that. It started in 2016, when I was mapping out my own plan to remain in Canada permanently, first as an international student, then as a temporary foreign worker, and then as a permanent resident. Finally, in December 2024, I became a proud Canadian citizen.

While my choice to come to Canada was driven by wanting a better life for myself and exploring new opportunities, I often think about Canada’s immigration system through a humanitarian lens. It is probably a professional defect at this point. I think of the first waves of Ukrainians arriving in Canada after russia’s full-scale invasion, navigating confusion, paperwork, trauma and uncertainty. I have also worked with refugees coming to Canada from all over the world, and with people fleeing persecution for political, religious, or personal reasons.

I love working with newcomers. I love being part of their journey. I love learning about other cultures and customs and watching them become woven into the larger mosaic of the Canadian population.

But the Canada I fell in love with feels like it is being talked about differently now. When I first came here nearly ten years ago, one of the things that drew me was the diversity. I was mesmerized by the mosaic of people and cultures, living alongside one another and learning from one another. That vision of Canada still matters deeply to me. But for a while now, negative narratives, amplified online, repeated by politicians, echoed by influencers, have been reshaping how many Canadians view immigration. Suddenly, immigration is blamed for everything: a strained healthcare system, a lack of affordable housing, rising grocery prices, and more.

These are real issues. I am not denying their existence or minimizing their impact. Immigration is complex, and I do not pretend to have all the answers. What I do want to say is this: people have been moving across borders for as long as borders have existed and for much of history they moved freely. Yes, borders exist for a reason and they must be respected. But compassion should not disappear the moment paperwork enters the conversation.

In Canada particularly, most of us who call ourselves proud Canadians can trace our roots to somewhere far away, and that is okay. Unless you are Indigenous, you or your ancestors came from elsewhere and made a life here. So when I hear fellow immigrants repeating harmful narratives and assigning blame to people who are newer arrivals, it is both sad and frightening. Canada’s colonial history is troubling, and in order to move forward we must work together toward a vision of Canada where everyone is thriving, regardless of where they come from. There is so much to feel proud of as Canadians, but without addressing challenges honestly we will not get far. While it might feel satisfying to complain and criticize, I encourage people to try to be part of the solution rather than part of the problem.

It is easier, I admit, to blame systemic failures on immigrants, who often have no voice, no political rights, and no representation in the larger public discourse. Any newcomer can tell you how difficult it is to feel a sense of belonging in a foreign country, how hard it is to adjust, to rebuild, and to feel safe.

Some people respond to this by saying that immigration is a choice, that no one asked immigrants to come here and struggle. But that statement often does not reflect reality. People move because their homes are destroyed by missile strikes. Because climate disasters wipe out entire communities. Because political situations change and it is no longer safe to live where they were born. And yes, sometimes people move simply because they want a better life for themselves and their families.

The immigrants I know are incredibly hardworking people. They are not looking for a handout and are ready to take on demanding work to prove that they can contribute as effectively as anyone else. Often they are not eligible for benefits or social assistance programs, even while paying taxes and contributing significantly to the economy. Sometimes they are forced into precarious temporary jobs, and they may not feel able to report workplace harassment out of fear of being sent back to their home country.

Another narrative I hear constantly is that immigrants abuse the system. If I had a dollar for every time I heard that, I would not have to work, at least for a while. I will be honest: people who try to game systems exist. Every system, not just the immigration system. I have seen examples of this while working in newcomer settlement organizations. But does that justify painting everyone with the same brush?

I have also witnessed people who lost everything multiple times, received little to no support, and still worked relentlessly just to afford the bare minimum. I have heard stories of violence and fear at levels many Canadians will never experience. I have heard people say that for the first time in their lives they feel safe in Canada. And every single time we bring someone to safety, despite the imperfections of the system, it is worth it.

Most immigration systems are built on sorting people into boxes and categories, often based on their perceived ability to contribute economically. Most policies are designed to answer a single question: is this person worthy of coming here?That is why we so often see numbers attached to discussions about immigration. How many people crossed the border. How many are here. Are they productive. Are they contributing enough. In all of those numbers, we lose track of individual human stories of resilience. We forget to look past the statistics and learn from each other. We forget to ask where people are coming from, what their culture adds, which holidays they celebrate, what they bring.

Strength lies in diversity, not division. And in a world that is already messy and constantly changing, the last thing we should do is continue to isolate one another. It might sound naive, but we all share a common humanity, and that should be enough.