Generation 1.5, immigrants between two chairs
“Children who migrated without having made the choice”: This is how Rimel Mehleb, Sabrina Zennia and Bouchera Belhadj defined Generation 1.5, their generation. An invisible and mute population that the three women who arrived from Algeria when they were children or adolescents wanted to talk about by creating a podcast of the same name, unveiled on July 12. Their project highlights the lives and challenges of these uprooted people left to their own devices.
On the occasion of International Youth Day, it seems crucial to talk about this generation of immigrants who have been left behind.
“I migrated with my parents when I was 14. It was in March 2002”, says Andres Larrea. His father very quickly decided that he wanted to leave. “I didn't have much time to prepare,” he said Andres to signify the shock and breakup he was about to experience. He and his family crossed the United States before crossing the border on foot and seeking asylum in Canada. After a stint at the YMCA, they settled in Montréal-Nord and obtained their permanent residence three years later.
Andres was the only person in his family who spoke English, so he had to help his parents with all the administrative procedures. He says that this created a dynamic change in my family: “I had to take responsibility and become an active member of the family. It was a lot of stress.” It was his responsibility to inform his family about the Quebec system and especially to witness firsthand the difficulties of his parents.
Andres is part of generation 1.5. This term was introduced by the Cuban-American sociologist Rubén G. Rumbaut in the 1960s. Usually, we speak of the first, second or even third generation of immigration to refer respectively to the immigrants who have themselves migrated, and the children and grandchildren of these immigrants.
Generation 1.5 is the children and adolescents who were born abroad and left their country with their families to settle elsewhere. They have therefore lived both in the two countries of origin and of destination and often have both nationalities. Uprooted, they are in reality stuck between the two cultures, those who are Québecois without quite being Québecois and those who are Peruvian, Algerian or Senegalese without having completely the same codes.
Pressures
Like so many others, Andres' family migrated to offer children a better future, quality education, freedom of being, and security. Because he spoke English, Andres experienced the difficulties of his family first-hand. “You see the sacrifice and the downgrading, it's very concrete. You know what they have lost,” says Sabrina Zennia during a meeting with the other creators of the podcast at Café Colibri on Beaubien Street, a multicultural café that has become the meeting place for many communities.
Not to mention the pressure to succeed in life, as if children were carrying the weight of success. Faced with these expectations, 1.5 children must find a place in the host society, sometimes in contradiction with the culture of origin. “It's as if the family were telling us 'be better than the Québecers, but stay like us, '” sighs Rimel. Each family has its own dynamic: some families decide to maintain a strong link with the country of origin, values and practices, while others prefer to put it aside to assimilate.
Climb a mountain every time
For 1.5 people, the difficulties do not end with the family and these dualities. Starting with departure and arrival. For adults who choose to migrate as well as for children who suffer, departure remains a rupture inhabited by doubt, fear and misunderstanding. It's a total loss of bearings and you have to learn everything again: how to say hello, how to dress, everyday actions, the snack prepared for 10 am, the language you need to learn to speak, read and write, names that are so familiar and comforting for some, but scary for others, etc. “It's as if you had to climb a mountain every time”, verbalizes Alilou, who arrived from Algeria at the age of 12, in the second episode of the podcast.
“Among the challenges, there are first of all school integration, francization, which is a big deal, but also the creation of a social circle,” lists Marina Doucerain, a professor of social and cultural psychology and belonging to generation 1.5 herself. “I spent almost a year without going to school and I didn't know anyone,” says Andres, who felt very isolated when he arrived. “And with the stress that my As a family, I did not feel comfortable having a teenage crisis,” he explains.
And then there are discrimination or simply being constantly differentiated, and being asked where you come from. “I arrived at the time of the first reasonable accommodations. I have always lived in a Quebec where immigration is represented as a threat,” shares the young man.
A little-documented unsaid
Rimel Mehleb, Sabrina Zennia and Bouchera Belhadj regret that the feelings of the children are not taken into account. Because migration was done for the future and well-being of children, it is common to assume that they are lucky to be in Canada and that they will adapt quickly. Moreover, the term generation 1.5 is very unknown and this population remains poorly studied or at least not made visible.
An observation that psychologist Marina Doucerain shares, even if she cannot determine the cause. Anyway, no one is talking about it, not even the people first concerned. “Nobody is talking about this and it's not just a coincidence. There is a lot of shame, guilt, secrecy, a lack of space around the subject,” says Rimel Mehleb.
This is also the reason why Bouchera, Rimel and Sabrina created their podcast: “At the beginning, we started this for us. We wanted to document and open the conversation on the subject and for it to speak to people.” Gradually, this intimate project grew, unraveling languages, creating links between these multitudes of migration experiences.
Delivered to themselves
Generation 1.5 feels abandoned, left to themselves to understand their new environment and to grieve the one they left behind. Faced with the void of support, the absence of help, reference points or models, young people of generation 1.5 are tinkering. Some maintain a strong link with the culture of origin, through food, music, going back and forth to the country, politics, religion or even the community. This is the case of Rimel, who took refuge in her Algerian community after the debate on the Charter of Values and the tension of the debate on secularism and immigration.
For Andres, after wanting to be “whiter than white”, he now makes it a point of honor to maintain “cultural and culinary continuity especially”. “The language is very important for me, I can't imagine not teaching it to my children for example, it would be terrible”, continues the young man. Now a researcher in environmental sciences and very politically involved, Andres lives between Quebec and South America, and Quebec. “It helps me not to feel like a stranger in my country and to catch up with all the slang! ”, he laughs.
From the point of view of psychologist Marina Doucerain, this tinkering could reflect “the failure of society.” “There is good news, because they have to build relationships. But it's a problem if these relationships are made out of spite, because there's nothing else for them,” she said.
Under the government's radar
When we met at Café Colibri, Rimel, Bouchera and Sabrina denounce this neglect. “There are a lot of small initiatives, but they are disparate and not coordinated. There is no government plan,” regrets Sabrina Zennia.
Stephan Reichhold, director of the Table de liaison des organisations au service des persons ées et immigrantes (TCRI), agrees: “In the past, youth services were only intended for refugees and young immigrants aged 12 and under. The Department of Immigration did not feel concerned and explained that this should be the responsibility of the Ministry of Education.” Early childhood services existed, but 12-18 year olds were under the radar.
He explains that there has been a turnaround in the last two years. In the wake of massive investments by the Coalition Avenir Québec (CAQ) government, youth services have become a priority, according to Mr. Reichhold. “Many organizations have hired a youth intercultural community worker (ICI). There are collaborations with school boards,” he lists. “We are still not out of the woods, there is still a lot of effort to be made, especially for those with a precarious status, temporary workers, foreign students or asylum seekers,” recalls Stephan Reichhold.
Contacted by email, the Ministry of Immigration explains that it has hired 55 youth, school and early childhood workers in 20 community organizations in Quebec. “The ICI promote the valorization of each young person, the encounter with others, conflict resolution, conflict resolution, a sense of belonging and the discovery of activities in communities,” says Arianne Méthot, communications manager at the ministry. She also states that these stakeholders offer intercultural support to “promote dialogue and reduce misunderstandings”.
More resources
Efforts should be made as early as the first class, which Andres attended. “You realize that this is the government's last priority, when you look at resources,” he regrets. The young man believes that teachers should be better supported. “Teachers must not only teach French, but also the functioning of Quebec society. That's a lot! ”, he declares.
For her part, Marina Doucerain believes that young people, especially preteens and adolescents, should be supported in building their “in-between” identity. “There should be an intervention or a program to help them create their narrative identity,” she explains. Narrative identity is the story that everyone tells about themselves, it is the narration that makes sense. “For parents, it is simpler, because they are actors in migration, they have chosen it. But for teens, for whom it's already complicated, it's a whole field of ruins to rebuild! ”, details the psychologist.
Ideas that would respond to the testimonies of children from generation 1.5 collected by Bouchera, Rimel and Sabrina. They explain that they felt that they were a workforce, like their parents, workers who will be beneficial to the Quebec economy. “The human side of migration is muted. And even when there are initiatives, they don't get to the bottom of it,” they say. By opening the conversation about their generation, they bring identity and culture back to the heart of the debates and thus recall that “integration is vital and is not just a whim”.