Sheryl was born to Indigenous parents who were very young and living in poverty. Her father was a residential school survivor, and her mother did not have the means or experience to raise her in her teens – she made the difficult decision to give Sheryl up for adoption in the hopes that her daughter would have a better life. And in many ways, she did.
Sheryl lived in Kitchener and pursued a career in social work, which afforded her many opportunities to travel worldwide and help people in dire situations. She had succeeded in building a fulfilling life with a meaningful career, away from the harsh conditions she was born into. That is until she began having back issues and was diagnosed with a degenerative disease. “It led to a nasty infection; I don’t even know where it came from,” says Sheryl.

“I wasn’t supposed to walk again, but I learned to with a walker. I’m stubborn.”
While in the hospital, Sheryl was already burdened by the thought of her inaccessible home. “Thinking about the stairs, I realized I won’t be able to go in again,” she shares. The landlord heard about the diagnosis and wanted to sell the property. I still manage to get in and out somehow, but I must move.”
While in hospital, Sheryl learned how to use a smartphone and started looking for homes, but with high rental prices, the bottom line was she couldn’t afford anything. “I tried the roommate route, but it was a huge challenge because people didn’t really want to be roommates with someone older and disabled. I needed certain modifications, like a two-inch lift on the toilet seat. It was also hard to spend money meeting them all the time – I’d have to call a cab, and it would be a waste of time and money.”
Currently, Sheryl is getting rid of all her belongings and preparing for homelessness. At some point this fall, they will come and evict her.

“It’s hanging over my head that they’re going to kick me out,” says Sheryl. “They’re selling this place.”

Sheryl has tried to get on the housing waitlist, but with a wait time of eight years, homelessness is imminent. Come fall, she will opt for shelters if they are available or will end up on the street. Even her current living situation could be better. Sheryl is stuck in a building she can’t get in and out of independently. Although she has family in different provinces, moving would mean she would lose ODSP and reapply for it in the new province, which can take up to two years to get approved. Her best hope is to land a spot in a shelter. “I would get housing faster that way because I’d be on a priority list,” she shares. She has also thought about requesting support from the reserve. Still, she says it is nearly impossible, as you have to be homeless before you can get any support, let alone accessibility.

Right now, she navigates half a flight of stairs to get into her building, with the risk of being injured from using stairs on a regular basis. “It makes me feel trapped. I have to ask my worker to put the walker out even if I want to go for a short walk,” she shares. “The worst part in all of this is that I was a social worker. And now I’m on the other side of things. I feel like a burden just going out for a walk.”

She urges housing leaders to consider that most people with disabilities don’t actually require much. “We don’t always need the one-bedroom unit. Some of us would like to live in a bachelor unit. Those can work, too,” Sheryl says. She also mentions that families are prioritized, but single people with disabilities are often left out of the equation altogether, facing difficult situations that risk their well-being and their ability to survive.
Sheryl is bracing for the colder months in these uncertain circumstances. She is making winter hats for people in her neighbourhood, many of whom are kids who recently arrived in Canada. The rest go to homeless shelters.

“I’ve lived on the streets for two years when I was 16, so I have an advantage and know my way,” says Sheryl. “But I want people to wake up and hear the voices of people in minorities. People with disabilities, we are the forgotten, we are not seen, and people do not want to face what could be them.”