More women turn to Qimaavik

SARA MINOGUE

An advertising campaign to raise awareness about family violence in Nunavut has led to a 70 per cent increase in women using Iqaluit’s Qimaavik women’s shelter – but no extra funding to help support the facility.

“We don’t believe there’s more or less violence happening,” says Cheryl Nadeau, who became the shelter’s executive director in March of this year.

Rather, Nadeau believes that two public service announcements now being broadcast on CBC and APTN are creating more awareness of the services available to women in abusive situations.

The ads – produced by the Baffin Regional Agvvik Society, which runs the shelter, and funded in part by the National Crime Prevention Centre – have been airing since September 2003.

“Nowhere to Hide” shows a boy cowering outside a house while his parents fight inside, and then reconcile.

In “What is Love Anyway?” a woman shot in silhouette tells a story about a puppy she befriended as a child, “because there were awful things going on in my family.” The woman explains that she put an end to violence in her own life to become a counsellor.

Both ads then list places to call for more information, including “social services, local health centres, the RCMP, addiction centres, your church or someone you trust,” as well as the phone number for the Baffin Regional Agvvik Society.

The 21-bed shelter in Apex has struggled with finances and other resources for years, but the increase in clients mean that the shelter is now just “scraping by.”

“There are many months when we have over 100 per cent capacity,” Nadeau says, which means moms often sleep with babies.

Iqaluit’s housing shortage contributes to the problem by making it difficult for women who use the shelter to find alternatives to returning to an abusive spouse. Qimaavik was set up to offer six-week stays for women in crisis, but realistically, many people stay for up to six months.

Forty-five per cent of the shelter’s clients are referrals from the communities, and some have no place to return to. These women have to live in Iqaluit for one year just to get on a waiting list for public housing. A transitional home for women moving out of the shelter has just two apartments available.

A funding agreement with the department of health and social services, which donated the former Inusiqsiuqvik treatment centre in 2000, has not been updated to meet the new demand for services.

Instead, Qimaavik relies on donations of basic supplies such as baby formula, diapers, country food, and baby clothes.

Even food is a problem. Nadeau says the shelter is “lucky” to have a skilled cook who can make cheap, healthy dishes that meet Canada’s food guide. But the cook is on vacation now, which means staff members and residents are doing the cooking themselves, an alternative that is wasteful in comparison to having one chef in charge of the pantry.

Staffing is another concern. Qimaavik operates with 16 employees, mostly part-time, at wages that are not competitive with other social services agencies. Many employees burn out early, or take higher-paying jobs.

There are two counsellors on staff, as well as a victim’s services counsellor, but there is no youth counsellor, even though about 420 kids under the age of 17 stayed at the shelter last year.

Fortunately this summer, Social Services has a child and youth counsellor who takes referrals from the shelter, but his contract is only for six weeks and may not be renewed.

“We have 14 to 30 kids here at all times,” Nadeau says. “These are children who have witnessed violence or experienced violence. We need someone here full-time.”

The shelter would like to see a teacher on staff, but wages are not competitive with other institutions. A literacy worker – who is skilled, but not certified – provides books and educational material to moms and kids three days a week.

The literacy worker also picks up homework from school on days when angry dads have threatened children and it is not safe for them to go out of the shelter. This has happened three times in the last three months.

Nadeau is optimistic that more resources will be found once work gets underway at the Nunavut Suicide Prevention Council, and the two parties can work together to make the connection between youth in the shelter and youth at risk.

To combat burnout, staff members are getting together monthly to focus on self-care, or looking after their own needs to avoid succumbing to the constant stress of shift work, on-call work, and often, threats to the shelter’s residents, or the shelter itself.

Residents of the shelter pitch in daily to keep the place clean and tidy and the children fed.

Nadeau says that community support has been strong, even though there are still people who blame the shelter for breaking up families rather than trying to heal families.

“We get donations almost every day. That shows us that people are supportive.”

Donations of country food, baby items, clothing, toys, books, or your own time are always welcome. For more information call Qimaavik at 979-4500.