In a dirty, cramped alleyway, on the east side of a Walmart in Abbotsford, B.C, a man sits hunched over on the cold cement.
His name is Dan, and he lives on the streets of the suburban city. He also struggles with drxjmtzywug use, and on this particularly chilly day, he is in need of help.
"He has a bad infection on his leg," Sgt. Judy Bird says, as she walks towards him with a handful of medical supplies.
Bird is a veteran officer with the Abbotsford Police Department. She is also part of a unique street outreach response team, commonly referred to as S.O.R.T.
While she calls for ambulance assistance, Const. Angela Scott is crouched beside Dan, trying to get him to drink from the juice box she holds near his mouth.
"It is very difficult when you are homeless," says Scott. "We try to help them and meet them where they are at, as well as where they might be in their addiction or their mental health."
The outreach team is unique in that it is made up of both police and peer-support workers. The partnership is meant to help connect people experiencing substance use, mental-health challenges, homelessness, and other related issues, with community supports and services.
One thing the officers on the team do not do is arrest people for possessing small amounts of illicit drugs for personal use.
"Sometimes people see the police as an us-versus-them mentality, but I do believe that we are a community trying to work together to help save lives, " says Scott.
Kim Friesen is the executive director of CEDAR Outreach Society. The advocate and addiction expert works with S.O.R.T every day, often walking with them, as they visit the city’s homeless encampments.
Friesen says that shift in police focus has helped build trust within the city’s street-entrenched population.
"I think if people who are homeless and using substances can stop fearing arrest for simple possession, then they will be more inclined to reach out and ask for help. It is removing a major barrier in seeking support services," she says.
The innovative partnership, which launched in November 2018, was created to help combat the province’s ongoing illicit-drug death crisis.
"The team is always out trying to build relationships with the folks who are on the street," Friesen says. "When they have found someone who needs to connect to services, whether it’s detox, treatment, social assistance or shelter, then they refer them to us at CEDAR."
Drugs poisoned with fentanyl, and other toxic substances such as benzodiazephines, continue to fuel Canada’s overdose crisis.
B.C. IN THE ‘WORST PLACE’ IT’S EVER BEEN IN
According to a report released by B.C’s chief coroner, there were 2,224 suspected illicit drug deaths in the province last year. A statistic that is not only heartbreaking, but the highest number on record.
Overall, in 2021, there were on average 6.1 deaths per day, with 71 per cent of those dying aged 30 to 59.
"Our province is in the worst place than it has ever been. I am sorry to be the bearer of such tragic, mind numbing news," said Chief Coroner Lisa Lapointe. "Illicit drug toxicity deaths placed second in our province in terms of total potential years of life lost. Only malignant cancers cost more years of life."
It is estimated that the potent, synthetic opioid fentanyl, and its analogues, have been a factor in about 83 per cent of deaths, compared to 10 years ago when it was noted in only about five per cent of deaths.
"The majority of the people I know and love on the streets are going to die in their addiction. That is my reality," says Friesen. "But they will die knowing that someone cared, that someone tried to help them and knowing that somebody loved them."
One of the encampments the team often visits is located underneath a highway overpass. Amid the garbage and graffiti, there are several shelters made out of cardboard, wood, tarps and other abandoned material.
The team routinely checks on the dozen or so people who call the camp home. When they visit, they bring food, clothing and other basic necessitates. They also hand out harm-reduction supplies, including clean needles and naloxone kits which are used to reverse opioid overdoses.
"We want to help people and keep them safe," says Scott. "My approach is not to come in with a sort of finger waving, get your life together approach. I try to learn a little about their background and their story and I try to meet them where they are at."
Last year, the B.C government applied to the federal government to "remove criminal penalties for people who possess small amounts of illicit drugs for personal use." The province is the first in Canada to seek an exemption from Health Canada under Section 56(1) of the Controlled Drugs and Substances Act.
“Substance use and addiction is a public health issue, not a criminal one,” said Sheila Malcolmson, minister of mental health and addictions. “B.C. is adding new health and substance-use care services almost weekly, but we know shame prevents many people from accessing life-saving care. That’s why it’s crucial to decriminalize people who use drugs.”
Ottawa is currently reviewing B.C’s decriminalization application, as well as ones from the cities of Vancouver and Toronto.
In a statement, a spokesperson for Carolyn Bennett, federal minister of mental health and addictions, said each request for an exemption is "actively going through the review process, and it is not Health Canada’s practice to comment on applications that are currently under review."
‘MY LIFE HASN’T ALWAYS BEEN ADDICTION’
At another homeless camp, the outreach team checks in on a man who only wants to be identified as Tyler. The 37-year old used to work in Alberta as an oil-patch worker, but in recent years, an addiction to heroin cost him his job and his home.
"My life hasn’t always been addiction, it has only been the last four years," he says. "Before that I was doing good, but I just slipped up and I am trying to get out but it is hard."
Tyler admits he did not trust the outreach officers when they first approached him. Initially, he was worried they would not only take away his drugs, but arrest him for holding small quantities of heroin.
"Usually when you see a police officer you want to turn the other way and run away. But these cops have been coming to visit me for a while now, they have never tried to arrest me and I really think they care because they bring me food and try to help me."
According to the Abbotsford Police Department, the team visits "anywhere from 50 to 100" people every day. Along with connecting them to different services, the team also actively works to break down the stigma associated with drug use and homelessness.
"My firm believe is that all addiction is rooted in some sort of trauma, whether that’s from childhood or some other time in their life," says Scott. "I am not saying there is no accountability, but they didn’t choose to be here and now they’re faced with a lot of barriers when they’re trying to get out."
Adding to that, Friesen says "every single person you see on the street belonged to somebody, such as someone’s child or parent. Somebody loves them, even if it’s only their support worker, somebody loves them and they matter."
As for Dan, after assessing him in the ally, the team discovers a festering wound on his left leg. Despite their offer to assist him by arranging transportation and finding a safe place to store his shopping cart containing all of his belongings, he refuses to go to hospital for treatment.
With that, all the team can do is alert the city’s street nurses, who will bandage his leg and provide him with antibiotics in hopes of controlling the infection.
"It’s difficult work because we lose people all the time and that weighs on us," says Scott. "But we have to keep going because if we don’t do it, who will?"
