An oasis of hope in downtown Montreal

Pauline Harrison, originally from Inukjuak, has been coming to the Montreal Chez Doris day shelter for 28 years and “Annie [Pisuktie]’s the best thing that ever happened to us.” Pisuktie recently started working at Chez Doris as its Inuit crisis worker.(PHOTO BY SARAH ROGERS)

Chez Doris, located at 1430 Chomedey Street in downtown Montreal, is open seven days a week for the 100 or so women who visit the day shelter every day. The centre survives on money from community organizations, the city of Montreal and the provincial health agency. (PHOTO BY SARAH ROGERS)

Outreach worker Annie Pisuktie, left, chats with Sylvie Cornez, the director at the Montreal day shelter Chez Doris. The needs of women in the Inuit community are “overwhelming,” Cornez said. But since Pisuktie has been hired, “we’re seeing a difference.” (PHOTO BY SARAH ROGERS)

MONTREAL — For once in this bustling house, there is silence.

In the front room of the Chez Doris women’s day shelter in downtown Montreal, you can hear only the sound of an ulu scraping against cardboard.

Since Annie Pisuktie started working at at Chez Doris as its first crisis worker for urban Inuit women, Friday afternoons now include special treats.

On a recent Friday afternoon Pisuktie and about eight Inuit women gathered around the table to enjoy a rare treat in Montreal – country food and an Inuktitut-language film.

Pisuktie’s presence at Chez Doris has boosted the range of services offered at Chez Doris to Inuit women.

Some come to Chez Doris, located at 1430 Chomedey St., because they’re homeless, fighting addictions or abused. Others simply need a quiet place to go, to use a computer or get something nutritious to eat.

Many who do have a place to call home still live in poverty, Pisuktie said.

Chez Doris tries to help them get back on their feet: Pisuktie can now provide this support in Inuktitut.

Some Inuit women have been using Chez Doris’ services for years, secure in its unwavering support. Others use its services on and off while they look for work, try to beat an addiction, regain custody of their children, or get out of an abusive relationship.

“I had a lady come in last week in tears,” Pisuktie told Nunatsiaq News. “She just needed someone to listen to her. She hadn’t eaten for four days so she was really appreciative.”

Inuit clients make up about 15 per cent of all the women who come to Chez Doris, with five to 20 dropping in every day, where they can enjoy a hot lunch, go on the Internet, visit the clothing bank, use sewing machines, take a shower or use a phone to call home.

The day shelter encourages its Inuit clients to keep in contact with their families in the North. Most of the Chez Doris’ Inuit clientele is from Nunavik, others are from Nunavut, and a smaller group comes from Nunatsiavut.

Pauline Harrison has been coming to Chez Doris for the past 28 years, since she moved to Montreal from Inukjuak. Although she is financially independent, she visits the day shelter every day to meet with other Inuit women.

“It’s a safe place,” she said. “It keeps us sober and gives us what we need. And Annie’s the best thing that ever happened to us.It’s really nice to have someone Inuit working here with us.”

The outreach position was a project developed by Chez Doris with the help of Makivik Corp., which has funded Pisuktie’s position for three years.

Last month, after Pisuktie was only two weeks ago into her new job, a client from Nunavut died and Pisuktie helped find the money to ship the woman’s body home to relatives.

Pisuktie said she must take comfort in what little relief she can provide amid the pain and suffering she sees every day.

“Inuit are sensitive people, you know. I feel it – it hurts me,” she said as she prepares bannock in the centre’s kitchen. “We do what we can.”

Pisuktie moved to Montreal from Iqaluit 30 years ago. A long-time board member of the Association of Montreal Inuit, Pisuktie worked for many years with the Native Women’s Shelter of Montreal.

Chez Doris director Sylvie Cornez said hiring Pisuktie was an obvious move.

“Annie was the best [candidate], she already knew the women in Montreal from her past outreach work,” Cornez said. “Because they can communicate with her, these women have really opened up. We’re seeing the difference. We’re helping them survive, but now, with Annie, we want to go beyond that. We want to help them stand up to violence, to use the police and other community resources.”

Since Pisuktie started in late March, Cornez said she has seen more Inuit women using the shelter.

But the day shelter has many challenges to tackle, she said, admitting that alcohol addiction remains an issue they are not equipped to deal with.

As part of her work, Pisuktie doesn’t patrol the streets, although she says she might do that eventually, if she can team up with a colleague.

That’s because the downtown neighbourhood around Chez Doris has become notorious for its crime and drug culture.

The recent relocation of the Nunavik patient boarding home to the YMCA residence on nearby Tupper St. hasn’t helped; Pisuktie calls the location a “set-up” for vulnerable Inuit patients and their escorts visiting the city for the first time.

“They’re getting pulled in by people drinking in the park and they’re getting mugged,” she said. “It’s terrible.”

But Pisuktie knows she’s only one woman and for now, she’s focused on helping the women of Chez Doris.

In her role, she also plans to report back to Makivik, to let them know the needs of the rest of the urban Inuit community.

“I’ve always been an advocate for the Inuit community,” she said. “They know me and they know I can help them if they need it.”