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Portions of the included interview have been edited for brevity and clarity.
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Canada has a long history of refugee resettlement efforts and programs. According to The Office of the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees, “571,450 people were under [their] mandate in Canada in 2024, including refugees, asylum seekers, and stateless persons.” As one of the largest recipient countries of asylum seekers, Canada has a responsibility to ensure a good quality of life for them. That raises the question: what are refugee experiences like in reality?
Belonging and Exclusion: Refugee Advocates’ Perspective
Spheres of Influence had the honour of interviewing two team members at the Refugee Livelihood Lab, a social innovation lab at Beedie School of Business, Simon Fraser University. Yara Younis, Program Manager, and Alia Sunderji, Portfolio Manager, Consulting & Training Services, have dedicated their careers to refugee activism, systems change, and community organizing.
When and why did you immigrate to Canada?
Yara: August 2018, for my master’s at SFU. I’ve lived my entire life as a Palestinian refugee, with that label of being stateless—no recognition, no freedom to move. That was one of the biggest reasons. Canada had one of the few pathways of safety and stability.
When you first arrived in Canada, what were your hopes and expectations?
Yara: If it were up to me, and the world were different, I would never have left. The main reason was safety and stability. But so much of what people dream about is centered in North America and Europe, so I knew I had to come here.
What really attracted me was the freedom: freedom of expression, freedom of religion, freedom to explore identities, and the opportunity to meet people from everywhere. Those continue to be my main attractors for building community and for personal growth.
What has your experience been with inclusion and exclusion in Canada?
Yara: Growing up, I was already in a very multicultural place, so diversity wasn’t new to me. What I actually wish is that there were more of that in Canada. There aren’t enough initiatives to connect communities together.
So I made a very active effort to build my own community—not just Palestinians, not just Muslims, but everyone.
That said, most of my experience in Canada has been exclusionary because of the immigration system, cultural norms, and, in general, public life. It’s not designed for people who are not white or Westernized. Sometimes I had to minimize parts of my identity to fit in. The exclusion is systemic, not individual.
You don’t feel like you belong until you have validation from the system, like becoming a permanent resident or a citizen. For me, “freedom” here is not about [Canada saving me], it’s about being free from state-led persecution. It’s physical and mental freedom, not necessarily gratefulness.
What have you learned about the unique challenges refugees face when entering Canada’s job market, and how has Luv The Grub (a Vancouver-based gourmet spreads and chutneys business) adapted its training to meet those needs?
Alia: My mom came here as a refugee when she was 18, with no post-secondary education and no money. She had to start over completely. Through her and through my community, I saw how the Canadian work experience requirement acts as a barrier to employment.
Some refugees face barriers to getting their first job, not professional jobs, just the first entry-level job. So, I created a safe space where newcomer refugee youth could gain their first Canadian work experience through a paid training program, typically lasting one to two years. That first reference is everything. I’m still in touch with everyone I employ. They often tell me I was the first to give them a chance. I don’t feel proud of that; it’s terrible that no one else did, but someone had to!
Some newcomers worried they’d lose housing or benefits if they worked too many hours. So, we made sure to structure jobs around those limits to avoid putting people at risk of losing their stability. We built flexibility around childcare and didn’t require English proficiency if it wasn’t actually needed. For example, in the kitchen, you don’t need perfect English. We just worked with people where they were. And we got the most resilient, incredible individuals. The workplace is missing out on them because of all these barriers.
Yara: Employers often don’t understand temporary resident status. But with simple internal changes, some organizations have already made their hiring more accessible. We need to honour different experiences and center the user. Stability is truly underrated. Many people are stuck in cycles of survival, sending income back to their families, until someone opens their arms to them.
I know I’m privileged, I had a Canadian education and networks, and I was treated better. But bias comes from systemic narratives that refugees are not as civilized or educated. That’s the reality.
How can employers move beyond barriers like “Canadian experience” and language?
Alia: Employers can expand their definition of excellence. Instead of only asking about Canadian work experience or education, they should ask questions that allow people to demonstrate resilience, flexibility, and lived experience. For example: “Tell me about a conflict you faced in your life and how you overcame it.” That reveals so much more than just a resumé. People can learn skills on the job.
The Refugee Livelihood Lab’s mission is to “facilitate systems change toward migrant justice” through leadership development, convening, and advocacy. Can you shed some light on this process?
Yara: It’s about dismantling systems and ways of thinking. Everything we have was designed — so it can be redesigned.
We do relationship building. As migrants, we also hold our own biases. A values-based approach helps us ask: why do we believe what we believe? Where do ideas like racism, colorism, or capitalism come from? Almost always, they stem from colonialism.
Our Migrant Systems Change program brings migrants, refugees, and communities together to engage in dialogue and design their own solutions, whether that’s policy advocacy, grassroots projects, or simply connecting with neighbours.
We’re also building migrant–Indigenous solidarity, especially with Coast Salish communities. Many migrants come without knowing Indigenous history or come with misconceptions, and we need to bridge that.
We also experimented with participatory grantmaking, where we gave resources directly to migrant-led initiatives. That shifted power away from traditional philanthropy and put it into community hands.
For you, your community, and the people you serve, what is the biggest challenge in starting over—housing, employment, community, or something else?
Yara: They’re all interconnected. Without employment, you can’t get housing. Without housing or income, you can’t build community. There needs to be more structural support for basic necessities so people can truly belong in society.
Alia: Legal situations matter too — it’s case by case. The immigration system is designed to treat everyone as if they’re the same, but they’re not.
Canada is seen globally as a welcoming country. From your experience, where does that image fall short, and how have recent views towards immigration affected you personally or professionally?
Yara: The rhetoric isn’t new—it’s just more visible and socially acceptable now. Immigrants are framed as people who don’t deserve to be here, who haven’t “earned” it. I reject that narrative. Everyone should have the right to move, stay, or leave, regardless of economic benefit.
Recent immigration policy changes have been racist and exclusionary, particularly toward brown and Muslim-majority populations. It’s really a matter of chance. If I had applied this year, I probably wouldn’t have been accepted. The points-based system says you’re only “worthy” if you’re young, educated, or skilled. That divides immigrants against each other instead of uniting us.
What are one short-term and one long-term way Canada can improve its refugee settlement system?
Yara: In the short term, IRCC needs to treat applications with dignity. Don’t judge based on a name, citizenship, or identity marker. Look at the whole application. Be more transparent about how decisions are made. In the long term, we need to uplift and fund migrant-centered organizations. Just changing policy doesn’t erase problems. Migrant-led initiatives need resources to continue the work.
Challenges to Canada’s “Welcoming” Image
Unfortunately, Canada appears to be moving in the wrong direction with its immigration policies.
In June 2025, Prime Minister Mark Carney introduced Bill C-2, the Strong Borders Act. Greenpeace reports it as a “sweeping piece of legislation that echoes the worst aspects of U.S. immigration policy. It expands border enforcement powers, weakens legal protections for migrants and refugees, and hands even more unchecked authority to the Canada Border Services Agency (CBSA).” Various human rights organizations, such as Amnesty International and the Canadian Council for Refugees, are actively advocating against it for not following international legal standards.
For refugees, belonging in Canada should not be a privilege that slips further away with every policy shift. It is a right that requires commitment from policymakers, institutions, and communities alike.
Edited by Khushi Mehta
