Introduction
Like many other Global North countries, Canada is undergoing significant demographic shifts due to immigration and a rapidly aging population (Statistics Canada, 2022). Although in October, 2024, the Minister of Immigration, Refugees and Citizenship announced that the 2025–2027 Immigration Levels Plan will decrease Canada’s immigration targets (Government of Canada, 2024), the last few decades have seen a rise in immigration. These demographic shifts interact with and are impacted by a growing public health and social crisis in Canada: homelessness. In recent years, homelessness in Canada has been marked by an upward trend in both the number and diversity of individuals affected. Once primarily associated with younger populations, recent data suggest a rising incidence of homelessness among older adults (Grenier, Reference Grenier2021). In 2019, adults aged 55 and older accounted for 35.2 per cent of Canada’s homeless population – up from 10 per cent in 2014 (Dionne et al., Reference Dionne, Young and Tamtik2023).
This demographic shift raises serious concerns given the distinct vulnerabilities of aging individuals, including declining health, limited income, and reduced mobility (National Seniors Council, 2024). Compounding these challenges, mainstream homeless sector services (e.g., emergency shelters, soup kitchens, transitional/permanent housing) are often ill-equipped to accommodate the needs of older people experiencing homelessness (Canham et al., Reference Canham, Humphries, Seetharaman, Custodio, Mauboules, Good, Lupick and Bosma2021). This is especially the case for older migrants, who face additional structural barriers that contribute to housing precarity, including limited access to pensions, unfamiliarity with the Canadian social support system, language, religious and cultural barriers, and systemic discrimination (Grenier, Reference Grenier2021; Kaushik et al., Reference Kaushik, Walsh, & Hoselton and Guruge2024). While data on homelessness among migrants are limited, shelter use among migrants to Canada increased from 7 to 8.5 per cent from 2018 to 2019 (Statistics Canada, 2022). In addition, point-in-time surveys across 200 shelters in Canada suggest that 14.3 per cent of those using shelters in 2019 arrived in Canada as immigrants (Statistics Canada, 2022).
Complicating these challenges further is the often-idealized image that immigrants hold of Canada – one characterized by fairness, opportunity, and a strong social safety net (Preston et al., Reference Preston, Shields and Akbar2022). This idealization is not incidental; it is shaped by Canada’s global reputation as a humanitarian and multicultural nation and reinforced by immigration marketing, settlement services, and diplomatic narratives (Sustainable Governance Indicators, 2024). In addition, for many newcomers, particularly those arriving from conflict zones, authoritarian regimes, or impoverished contexts, Canada represents a promise of safety, dignity, and economic prosperity (Esses et al., Reference Esses, Medianu and Lawson2013). Such perceptions can foster resilience and optimism, serving as psychological resources during periods of adjustment and hardship (Esses et al., Reference Esses, Medianu and Lawson2013).
However, this idealization can also be a double-edged sword. When the realities of everyday life in Canada – such as systemic discrimination, housing precarity, underemployment, or culturally alienating services – fail to align with pre-arrival expectations, migrants often fail to achieve their goals, resulting in disillusionment (Guruge et al., Reference Guruge, Sidani and Illesinghe2021). This mismatch between expectation and reality can produce emotional strain and hinder help-seeking behaviours, as migrants may internalize failure or downplay structural barriers to maintain a hopeful narrative about their adopted country (Tabatabai, Reference Tabatabai, Nyemba and Chitiyo2021).
Considering the significant number of immigrants who experience barriers that fail to meet the expectation of an ideal Canada, the under-researched voices of older migrants – particularly those experiencing homelessness or housing insecurity – represent a significant issue. While the literature on aging and migration points to issues of financial precarity and dependence (Ferrer et al., Reference Ferrer, Brotman and Koehn2022; Preston et al., Reference Preston, Shields and Akbar2022), there is limited work on older migrants’ experiences while homeless. This lack of visibility hinders the development of culturally responsive, age-appropriate interventions that could otherwise address the unique vulnerabilities of older migrants, especially those navigating Canada’s shelter and housing systems. Compounding this is the sense of gratitude many immigrants feel toward Canada, which can lead to self-silencing or reluctance to seek assistance, especially for issues like housing insecurity or poor mental health (Simich et al., Reference Simich, Beiser, Stewart and Mwakarimba2005). Feeling indebted to a host country perceived as generous, some newcomers may avoid accessing services, fearing that they may appear ungrateful (Simich et al., Reference Simich, Beiser, Stewart and Mwakarimba2005). This ‘grateful silence’ can become a barrier to visibility and advocacy, masking the urgent needs of structurally vulnerable populations.
To address this gap, this paper explores the question: How do older migrants’ perception of Canada impact their experiences of accessing housing services? Drawing on a postcolonial framework, we analyse qualitative data from eight shelter/housing programs supporting older people experiencing homelessness in three Canadian cities, focusing specifically on interviews conducted with participants who identified as a migrant. The use of a postcolonial framework helps link the analysis to historical and ongoing power dynamics – rooted in Canada’s settler-colonial legacy which shapes both immigration and shelter/housing policy, thus further reinforcing the marginalization of immigrant populations.
Literature review
Research on older migrants experiencing homelessness in Canada, albeit limited, underscores the complex interplay of structural and individual-level factors contributing to their housing insecurity. Kaushik et al. (Reference Kaushik, Walsh, & Hoselton and Guruge2024), for example, identify key risks such as economic instability, a lack of affordable housing, and ineligibility for government assistance. For instance, older immigrants arriving through family sponsorship often do not qualify for Old Age Security (OAS) or the Guaranteed Income Supplement (GIS); to be eligible for these programs and to receive even a partial pension, individuals have to be Canadian residents for at least 10 years after age 18 (Government of Canada, 2025). Moreover, sponsored older adults are generally ineligible for the GIS for the duration of their sponsorship, which can extend up to 20 years for parents and grandparents sponsored outside Quebec (Government of Canada, 2026). Lack of access to these income support programs can create financial dependence on family members, particularly as sponsors are expected to provide financial support during the sponsorship period (Kaushik et al., Reference Kaushik, Walsh, & Hoselton and Guruge2024). This financial dependency can strain family dynamics with tensions sometimes manifest as elder abuse, including neglect, financial exploitation, or emotional mistreatment – forms of harm that are often underreported within immigrant households due to stigma, language barriers, fear of deportation, or family breakdown (Tam & Neysmith, Reference Tam and Neysmith2006). Such abuse can further isolate older adults and push them out of unstable living situations, placing them at greater risk of homelessness and service exclusion.
Systemic barriers further compound the precariousness faced by older migrants experiencing homelessness. Stewart et al. (Reference Stewart, Shizha, Makwarimba, Spitzer, Khalema and Nsaliwa2011) explored the multifaceted challenges older migrants encounter, including financial hardship, language and cultural barriers, health issues, discrimination, family tensions, and social isolation. These vulnerabilities are echoed in more recent research, with older migrants reporting difficulties adapting to Canadian life, exclusion from employment due to unrecognized credentials, discrimination in rental markets, and the psychological toll of social isolation (Ferrer et al., Reference Ferrer, Brotman and Koehn2022). As noted by the National Seniors Council (2024), social isolation often goes unnoticed by government agencies, immigrant communities, and even family members, thus limiting timely intervention. These challenges are intensified by restrictive policies, culturally inappropriate programming, and language and transportation barriers to accessing social services (Dionne et al., Reference Dionne, Young and Tamtik2023; Stewart et al., Reference Stewart, Shizha, Makwarimba, Spitzer, Khalema and Nsaliwa2011).
Service providers themselves point to high program costs, insufficient staffing and resources, and a lack of knowledge about the unique needs of older migrants as barriers to adequate service delivery (Stewart et al., Reference Stewart, Shizha, Makwarimba, Spitzer, Khalema and Nsaliwa2011). These barriers stand in stark contrast to the expectations many older migrants hold upon arrival. Older migrants often hold complex and varied perceptions of Canada. Some view Canada as a country with strong social support systems, while others feel marginalized due to language barriers, cultural differences, and bureaucratic challenges in accessing assistance (Government of Canada, 2024). Research suggests that older migrants who perceive Canada as welcoming and resourceful are more likely to seek help, whereas those who feel excluded or underserved may withdraw from social services (Guruge et al., Reference Guruge, Sidani and Illesinghe2021). For many older migrants, especially those dependent on family due to ineligibility for government support, this gratitude is tied to a desire to avoid burdening relatives or appearing ungrateful to a country seen as generous (Tam & Neysmith, Reference Tam and Neysmith2006). As a result, experiences of poverty, abuse, or unstable housing are often minimized or concealed.
Understanding how older migrants’ perceptions of Canada align with their actual experiences is important as these perceptions – whether as a supportive or exclusionary environment – can significantly influence their willingness to seek help and engage with available resources, including housing supports. Thus, research on the experiences of older migrants who are homeless is crucial because it sheds light on a vulnerable population whose needs are often overlooked in both policy and practice. To this end, this study applied a postcolonial lens to examine how older migrants experiencing homelessness perceive Canada and how this perception impacts housing precarity. In doing so, it aims to inform more culturally responsive and accessible practice and policy solutions.
Theoretical framework
This paper applies a postcolonial lens to the interview data collected with older migrants who were a part of the original study and hence constitutes a secondary analysis of a subset of interviews (Hinds et al., Reference Hinds, Vogel and Clarke-Steffen1997). The secondary analysis process was informed by postcolonial theory, which examines how historical and ongoing colonial relations continue to shape contemporary institutions, identities, and social inequalities (Bhabha, Reference Bhabha1994; Spivak, Reference Spivak, Nelson and Grossberg1988). Although Canada often presents itself as a multicultural and welcoming nation, postcolonial scholars argue that narratives of inclusion can coexist with systems that reproduce racialized hierarchies and unequal relations of power (Bhambra, Reference Bhambra2014). A postcolonial lens was, therefore, useful for understanding how older migrants experiencing homelessness navigate housing systems while simultaneously negotiating questions of belonging, deservingness, and citizenship.
While postcolonial theory is broad, three concepts were particularly relevant to this analysis. First, postcolonial scholars have demonstrated how states construct narratives of benevolence and generosity that position migrants as beneficiaries of national goodwill rather than as rights-bearing individuals (Bhabha, Reference Bhabha1994). Such narratives shape how migrants understand and evaluate their experiences, even when they encounter exclusion or marginalization (Kusari, Reference Kusari2026). Second, postcolonial theory draws attention to processes of silencing and representation. Spivak’s (Reference Spivak, Nelson and Grossberg1988) work on the subaltern highlights how marginalized groups may struggle to have their concerns recognized within dominant institutional structures, not because they lack agency but because existing systems limit which voices are heard and validated. Third, Ahmed (Reference Ahmed2014) conceptualizes gratitude as an affective and political practice that operates within unequal power relations. Expressions of gratitude can reflect genuine appreciation while simultaneously functioning as a mechanism through which individuals manage vulnerability, secure belonging, or avoid challenging dominant institutions.
These postcolonial concepts are particularly important when looking at older migrants as they align with critical gerontology scholars who have similarly challenged universalized understandings of aging, demonstrating how later life is shaped by structural inequalities, exclusion, and normative expectations surrounding independence and successful aging (Grenier, Reference Grenier2021; van Dyk, Reference van Dyk2016). As discussed below, for older migrants experiencing homelessness, these processes intersect with additional migration-related forms of marginalization, creating experiences of unequal aging that are often overlooked within both homelessness and aging policy frameworks.
Methods
This paper presents a secondary data analysis from a subset of participants recruited as a part of the original study on older homeless persons’ experiences of aging in emergency shelters and short-term and transitional housing units in three Canadian cities (see Canham et al., Reference Canham, Mahmood, Walsh, Bourgeois Guérin, Chaudhury, Colgan, Dunn, Henwood, Nixon, Somers and Yan2022). In brief, the original study was designed to examine how shelter/housing programs can best support aging in the right place, drawing on Golant’s (Reference Golant2015) model which purports that the right place must attend to the unique lifestyles and vulnerabilities of older people. For this paper, we employed a secondary qualitative analysis which involves the re-use of existing qualitative data to address new research questions, generate novel interpretations, or apply alternative theoretical frameworks (Beck, Reference Beck2019). Members of the research team were involved in the original study, which focused broadly on experiences of homelessness and housing insecurity among older adults. In contrast, the present analysis focused specifically on participants with migration histories and explored how narratives of housing, belonging, and support were shaped by migration experiences and interpreted through a postcolonial lens. This re-analysis generated findings that were not examined in the original study, including the key concept of performative gratitude.
Participants
The study was approved by four Research Ethics Boards: first, the Conjoint Faculties Research Ethics Board (CFREB) at the University of Calgary, with reference number: REB20-1229_REN4; second by the Office of Research Ethics Boards for the Integrated Health and Social Service Centre of South Central Montreal (Certificate #2022-1485); third by McGill University (Certificate #20-09-008), and fourth by the Simon Fraser University Office of Research Ethics (Certificate # 2020s0204). Upon receiving institutional review board approval, participants were recruited to the larger study using both convenience and snowball methods. Across all cities and sites, recruitment was supported by a strong collaboration and presence between participating sites and the research team. Site leads assisted with recruitment by distributing materials to potential participants and helping to organize onsite sessions, such as meet-and-greets with the researchers. These activities helped to build rapport and trust between the research team and residents who may have otherwise been reticent to share their perceptions and experiences (Serrano et al., Reference Serrano, Cormier, Sussman, Bourgeois-Guérin, Provost, Walsh, Mahmood and Canham2023). For all three cities, written or verbal informed consent was obtained from participants in person before the interview.
Of the 102 participants recruited for the larger study, 22 met our inclusion criteria of identifying as an older migrant (Table 1). Nine participants were from two programs in City 1, seven were from four programs in City 2, and six were from two programs in City 3. In reflexive thematic analysis, sample adequacy is assessed based on the richness and relevance of the data rather than achieving statistical representativeness or demonstrating saturation (Braun & Clarke, Reference Braun and Clarke2021). We therefore did not seek to establish data or theoretical saturation. Instead, we drew on the concept of information power, which suggests that the more relevant information a sample holds for the study aim, the fewer participants are needed (Malterud et al., Reference Malterud, Siersma and Guassora2016). To protect the identity of participants, we first used an alpha-numerical code to indicate the program (i.e., C1) and another alpha-numerical code to indicate the participant (i.e., P1) (see Table 1).
Participant details
Table 1. Long description
The table is organized into five columns: Code, Age, Length of stay at program, Gender, and No. of interviews.
City 1 participants:
* V 1 - P 1: 68 years old, around 6 months stay, Male, 3 interviews.
* V 1 - P 2: 62 years old, missing stay data, Male, 3 interviews.
* V 2 - P 1: 90 years old, since 1993, Female, 2 interviews.
* V 2 - P 2: 70 to 75 years old, around a year stay, Male, 1 interview.
* V 2 - P 3: 70 years old, 1 year stay, Male, 2 interviews.
* V 2 - P 4: 77 years old, 3 years stay, Male, 2 interviews.
* V 2 - P 5: 70 years old, 1 year stay, Female, 1 interview.
* V 2 - P 6: 80 years old, 3 years stay, Male, 2 interviews.
* V 2 - P 7: 64 years old, almost a year stay, Male, 2 interviews.
City 2 participants:
* C 1 - P 1: 61 years old, 6 months stay, Female, 2 interviews.
* C 1 - P 2: 72 years old, 10 months stay, Male, 3 interviews.
* C 1 - P 3: 58 years old, 2 weeks stay, Female, 3 interviews.
* C 2 - P 1: 61 years old, 4 months stay, Male, 2 interviews.
* C 2 - P 2: 63 years old, missing stay data, Male, 2 interviews.
* C 3 - P 1: 51 years old, 10 months stay, Male, 2 interviews.
* C 4 - P 1: 70 years old, 8 years stay, Male, 2 interviews.
City 3 participants:
* M 1 - P 1: N A age, 2.5 years stay, Male, 1 interview.
* M 1 - P 2: 58 years old, 3 years stay, Male, 3 interviews.
* M 1 - P 3: 60 years old, 2 weeks stay, Male, 3 interviews.
* M 2 - P 1: 62 years old, 7 years stay, Male, 2 interviews.
* M 2 - P 2: 44 years old, 3 years stay, Male, 2 interviews.
* M 2 - P 3: 67 years old, 1 year stay, Male, 2 interviews.
Data collection
Between Spring 2021 and Spring 2024, in-depth semi-structured interviews were conducted with the 22 participants included in the analysis for this paper. Each participant was invited to three interviews, each lasting 45–60 minutes, over a 2-week period. The first interview broadly explored participants’ experiences with homelessness and the housing program. The second interview introduced photovoice (Walsh et al., Reference Walsh, Beamer, Alexander, Shier, Loates and Graham2010), a technique used to help participants reflect on objects, places, and relationships that may support or hinder aging in the right place. The third interview involved reviewing the photos and reflecting on their meaning. In some cases, only two interviews were conducted as the participant preferred taking and discussing their photos immediately in the presence of the researcher. As such, the number of interviews did not impact the findings in significant ways. While the original study included photovoice interviews, this paper does not include this component; we focus on the interview data. For this reason, we do not offer more details related to the photovoice aspect of this study.
Data analysis
The lead author, who identifies as a migrant herself and is interested in better understanding migrant experiences in Canada, led the secondary qualitative thematic data analysis (Braun & Clarke, Reference Braun and Clarke2021; Hinds et al., Reference Hinds, Vogel and Clarke-Steffen1997) to identify how older migrants’ perceptions of Canada impact their experiences of accessing housing services. In line with postcolonial theories, reflexivity was central to the analytic process. Four of the authors are first-generational immigrants to Canada, with one of us being a racialized immigrant. While the authors’ migrant status supported deeper engagement with participants’ narratives, the research team does not have lived experiences of homelessness, which risked introducing blind spots in our interpretations of housing insecurity. We sought to address this by prioritizing participants’ voices through extensive use of their quotations and by critically reflecting on how our own assumptions about aging, homelessness, migration, and belonging informed coding and interpretation. Three of the authors have over a decade of experience conducting community-based housing/homelessness research in North America, and their knowledge contributed to how we engaged with the data. The institutional contexts of the shelter/housing programs also influenced our understanding, as access to participants was mediated by program staff, potentially shaping who chose to participate and what they felt comfortable sharing.
Our analysis was guided by reflexive thematic analysis as outlined by Braun and Clarke (Reference Braun and Clarke2021; Braun & Clarke, Reference Braun and Clarke2021). Given the exploratory nature of the study and the use of postcolonial theory as a sensitizing framework, a hybrid deductive-inductive approach was adopted. Deductively, the analysis was informed by postcolonial concepts related to belonging, marginalization, voice, gratitude, and power relations. Inductively, codes and themes were developed from participants’ narratives rather than being predetermined by theory.
Analysis proceeded through several stages. First, interview transcripts were read multiple times to facilitate immersion in the data and identify patterns related to participants’ experiences of homelessness, housing, migration, and perceptions of Canada. Second, initial codes were generated across the data set. Coding focused on both semantic content (what participants explicitly stated) and latent meanings (underlying assumptions and power relations reflected in participants’ narratives). Third, codes were compared and grouped into broader conceptual categories. Through iterative discussions among members of the research team, these categories were refined and organized into candidate themes. Fourth, themes were reviewed against the coded data and the full data set to ensure coherence, distinctiveness, and relevance to the research question. Finally, themes were defined, named, and interpreted through a postcolonial lens, resulting in two themes (a) experiences of exclusion and marginalization within shelter and housing systems and (b) transnational comparisons and constructions of Canada as a place of safety and opportunity, which contributed to an overarching theme of performative gratitude as a strategy of belonging and survival.
Rigor and trustworthiness
Several strategies were employed to enhance rigour and trustworthiness. First, analysis was conducted collaboratively among members of the research team, allowing for ongoing discussion of emerging interpretations and reducing the likelihood that findings reflected a single researcher’s assumptions. Second, analytic memos were maintained throughout the coding and theme development process to document coding decisions, emerging insights, and theoretical reflections. Third, findings were continuously compared against the full data set to ensure that themes accurately reflected participants’ accounts and were supported by multiple examples across interviews. Finally, the research team engaged in reflexive discussions regarding how theoretical commitments and prior experiences working with immigrant and unhoused populations may have shaped interpretation of the data.
Findings
Participants ranged in age from 44 to 80 years old and represented diverse migration trajectories and countries of origin. While not all participants shared how long they had lived in Canada, all had shared experiences of homelessness or housing insecurity and were residing in shelters, transitional housing, supportive housing, or other housing programs at the time of the interview.
All participants generally described their housing situations and experiences in Canada positively. Many expressed appreciation for the support they received from housing providers and Canadian institutions more broadly. At first glance, these narratives appeared to reflect high levels of satisfaction and gratitude. However, a closer analysis revealed a more complex picture. Participants frequently described experiences of exclusion, surveillance, limited autonomy, and unmet needs within housing programs. Yet, these critiques were often tempered by expressions of appreciation, reluctance to complain, or comparisons with more difficult circumstances they had experienced previously. Viewed through a postcolonial lens, these seemingly contradictory narratives point to what we conceptualize as performative gratitude – expressions of thankfulness that are shaped not only by genuine appreciation but also by broader social and institutional pressures associated with dependency, belonging, and deservingness. Participants’ gratitude was often intertwined with concerns about appearing demanding. In many cases, gratitude functioned as a strategy through which participants negotiated their relationships with institutions upon which they depended.
Two interconnected themes illustrate how performative gratitude emerged within participants’ narratives. First, participants described experiences of exclusion, marginalization, and limited autonomy within shelter and housing systems. Second, they frequently evaluated these experiences through comparisons with previous housing situations and with conditions in their countries of origin. These comparative frameworks often lowered expectations and shaped perceptions of what constituted rights-based care and support. Together, these dynamics contributed to an overarching theme: performative gratitude, through which participants expressed appreciation for available supports while simultaneously minimizing critique and negotiating their place within Canadian society and housing systems.
Experiences of exclusion and marginalization
Many participants emphasized the importance of the simple yet foundational services that the shelter/housing programs provided – shelter, food, security, and a sense of order. M2-P1 noted ‘they feed you, and that’s all I’m concerned with’, summarizing the contentment many other participants shared. As M1-P1emphasized: ‘It’s enough. No, it’s all I want, it’s all. I have money, I have everything, I don’t need anything!’
What might seem minimal support to some appeared to be deeply meaningful to those who have lived with instability. V1-P1 described their experience moving from a basement unit to one on the 13th floor as a revelation:
It’s a big difference from being underground, you know, like in a basement? And then suddenly you are on the 13th floor… Yes, yes. Overwhelming, because I saw the difference of what life is all about… The view is the one that I love most.
Even the physical conditions of the shelter/housing site elicited expressions of appreciation from participants. V2-P2 noted with contentment: ‘It’s a good building… it’s nice and clean… I have no qualms’. Another shared, ‘It was a blessing in itself, in disguise, ‘cuz to be chosen to come here is another story. But for the right person, it’s a good place to start over again I’d say’ (C2-P1).
Safety stood out as a recurring theme in participants’ narratives. When asked how he felt being at the shelter, C2-P2 shared, ‘I feel better. It’s most secure’. Feeling safe offered emotional and psychological relief, as noted by M1-P2: ‘It’s safe. I am pretty sure that no one will hurt me… My stress level is lower, anxiety is lower… Nobody knocks at my door at any time of the day or night’. The stability offered by shelter/housing programs created a space where participants could relax and not worry about their safety. Thus, the shelter/housing is more than a roof – it is a refuge where dignity is restored through safety and the comfort of a clean environment.
While the basic needs provided by shelter/housing programs offered a level of security, participants in City 3, in particular, simultaneously experienced these environments as restrictive, disempowering, and fundamentally unresponsive to their needs. A prevailing sentiment among participants from City 3 is that immigrants are not genuinely valued within the support systems meant to serve them. M1-P2 articulated this bluntly: ‘If you talk with the others, they blacklist you… He [another resident] talks a lot. He tells the truth. That’s it. Here, it’s like a communist country’. Further, M1-P2 who lived in shelter, compared power dynamics in that shelter to paternalistic dynamics: ‘They act like our mothers. And if you don’t listen to what they say, they’ll show you the door’.
This silencing extended to healthcare and emotional support, with participants reporting that their concerns often went unacknowledged. When asked if anyone checked in about his satisfaction with services, M2-P1 simply replied: ‘No, I don’t even have the chance to talk about it’. This absence of inquiry left M2-P1 feeling invisible: ‘I don’t even have anything to talk about’, he added – not necessarily because concerns were absent but because there was no option for being heard. For M2-P9, this sense of alienation translated into feelings of imprisonment: ‘The inmates – I don’t like to call it that way – but it is a bit like that… some people can’t leave the building, and I don’t think that’s legal’.
Financial challenges were another pressing concern. M2-P2 described their shelter/housing program bluntly: ‘This is a cemetery. I don’t like this place; I won’t be free… they don’t give you the money, they don’t give you the good food. Zero’. V1-P1 spoke of having to pay out-of-pocket for medically necessary supplies: ‘I have nothing… I have to pay for everything…because I am diabetic…I have to pay for it because my doctor gave it to me’. These accounts challenge the notion that shelter/housing programs provide full or adequate care. However, participants often disregarded these gaps when comparing their current and previous experiences, both in other shelter/housing programs in Canada and in their countries of origin.
Comparative frameworks of safety, opportunity, and belonging
Even among residents who expressed feelings of being underserved, unheard, or constrained within the shelter system, a strong undercurrent of gratitude ran through their narratives. This gratitude appeared to stem from an awareness of what has come before: the danger and neglect experienced while living unhoused or in overcrowded, unsafe facilities. When viewed against the backdrop of inadequate housing, even modest shelter/housing conditions can have a profound value, as emphasized by M1-P2: ‘They do help us a little… we get two meals a day, we have a room… it’s worse living on the street, in a park’. Having basic needs met led M1-P2 to rhetorically ask, ‘How many homeless people died in the street because they had nowhere to live, they had nothing?’ For M2-P9, the shelter was ‘ok… it could be better… but it’s better than being out in the street, right?’
Such reflections also underscore how even the most constrained forms of support can foster stability and evoke satisfaction, particularly when contrasted with high-risk environments. ‘I’m healthy. Because the room they gave me, I appreciate it’, M1-C1 affirmed. He recounted past experiences staying in a shelter where ‘60, 100 people [are staying] is very hard… sleep, come outside. It’s very hard’. Recalling an assault at a previous shelter, C2-P2 shared: ‘They were screaming, yelling at me… I came out [of the bathroom] and I was really wet and I fell. And they start beating me up and took my phone’. This participant immediately added, ‘It’s not gonna’ happen here’, pointing to the protective value of their current housing.
V1-P1 recounted feeling frustrated at a previous older adult service provider’s lack of knowledge: ‘She didn’t know anything I’m asking… Finally, she called them [the participant’s current housing program]… I am very positive with them… I actually appreciate the whole thing’. In another case, the physical amenities and social design of the shelter/housing itself – access to laundry, public kitchens, clean workrooms – was identified as contributing to a sense of place and belonging: ‘It’s a really nice working room’, C2-P2 noted. Because participants compared their current shelter/housing programs with previous experiences, they emphasized the importance of having ‘to kind of have an understanding, like, give the place the benefit of the doubt’ (C1-P2).
Transnational comparisons also deeply influenced the participants’ perceptions of safety and social support. Fleeing oppressive regimes or unstable political systems led some participants to frame Canada as a place of refuge and relative freedom. V2-P6 described leaving his country of origin, emphasizing that it is the ‘worst regime in the world’ and highlighting the difficulties of migration compounded by language barriers: ‘It was really hard because my English was not perfect…’ Despite these challenges, V2-P6 expressed acceptance of his move, sharing, ‘I’m okay, now’, signalling a complex negotiation between acceptance and hope. Other participants found comfort in Canada’s rule of law and social order: ‘I’m a disciplined guy. I like rules… I like this country and [city] because there are laws, rules, that we must follow’ (M1-P3).
Others contrasted Canada favourably with countries they considered less safe or which have less developed social services. V2-P5 compared Canada to countries in her region of origin, stating, ‘I’m very happy that I’m in Canada… other places are really bad’. M1-C6, who identified as queer, noted that being gay was ‘strange for people’ in their country of origin, but that Canadian society is ‘a bit more open’, highlighting how social acceptance factors into evaluations of safety.
Several participants praised Canada’s social support systems explicitly. C1-P2 commented, ‘Canada is amazing, it is a country of big opportunities…social support…better than [continent name] countries, even than [country name]’ and described Canada as ‘a paradise’ compared to his experiences during political upheavals in his country of origin. Another participant, V2-P3, commented on government financial supports: ‘I worked for Canada for 35–40 years, so I get what I needed…my rent money comes directly here’, reflecting a sense of reliability in institutional social assistance. Such social supports were often cited as significant improvements compared to experiences in their home countries, as specified by V2-P1: ‘I have no problem. I get my pension. Thank God and the government. And see, I’m very happy that I’m in Canada, not in [country of origin]’.
Several participants praised Canada’s multiculturalism, emphasizing cultural values of tolerance. C2-P2 said, ‘Canada is a nice country… they tolerate a lot of different cultures, different people, different ages’. Even when acknowledging imperfections, this tolerance was a key feature distinguishing Canada from other contexts which they viewed as worse in some respects. Some did qualify that having language access does contribute to their acculturation process. V2-C9 shared that ‘Canada is multicultural, and I’m not worried about that. From the first day I came, I was able to speak English’, highlighting how language access and cultural diversity shape their integration. The use of comparative frameworks, as well as experiences of marginalization and exclusion, shaped how participants interpreted their interactions with housing systems and Canadian society, culminating in a broader pattern of performative gratitude.
Performative gratitude
An overarching theme across interviews with older migrants was that of gratitude for what Canada offers. For example, participants acknowledged the material and emotional support they received, noting that despite imperfections, their current living situation felt like ‘a dream come true’ (V1-P2) or ‘very good’ (M1-C6). This gratitude was tied to feelings of dignity and security for V1-C2:
You get dignity, you feel that you have certain accomplishments, self-esteem, through these things that are happening. Because the feeling of your apartment is just overwhelming. How could it be? You know that a society will give you all of this, what did they get out of me? Nothing! It’s charity too much to be true. It’s not religion. And so even now, I am still grateful.
Others expressed a measured acceptance of rules and limitations, emphasizing that ‘I know that it’s [rules are] necessary to have a place in this country. If not, you have to stay on the street’ (V1-P1). Participants described accepting the rules and the current conditions at their housing program, although not ideal for some, because they felt that ‘this country don’t owe me anything’ (C2-P2). As a result, when asked how the shelter/housing program could improve, M2-P3 tempered their critiques, reinforcing that ‘I am being cautious. I’m not here to cause a rebellion with everyone and I recognize that certain rules have to be followed’.
Because of the prevailing sense of gratitude, many participants did not want to seem demanding. For instance, M2-C9 stated:
You get more [support, and then say], no I need more than that. You get more than [what you initially asked for, and then you say], no I need even more than that. So, what do you do? What do you do with that situation, its intolerable…
Others shared that ‘some people are demanding… And I’m happy with what I have’ (V2-P2) and accepted that ‘I have to adjust to whatever it is here the way I can, as much as I can… whatever God gives me, whatever conditions’ (C1-P2).
Furthermore, participants frowned upon Canadian-born residents who were ungrateful for what the shelter/housing services offered:
Some people do not like that they are here… I cannot explain. But something like that. I really appreciate… I cannot understand why people are… Some people just hate them. Can you believe that? …Everybody should be [grateful], but people are not. I’m sorry to tell, to just complain. That’s why I do not like many friends. And everybody’s just complaining.
(V2-C4).In fact, many participants did not allow themselves to complain, sharing that ‘I didn’t want to get upset; I didn’t want to complain’ (V2-P2) and ‘I will not bite the hand of somebody who helps me’ (V1-P2).
Others did not feel comfortable sharing recommendations on how the housing program could improve, as was the case with V2-P4 who shared that: ‘Yes, there is something I would like to talk to you about, but I think we have to be out of the building for me to tell you’. The restrain participants placed on themselves when asked about areas of improvement within their shelter/housing program is evident in the following exchange between the interviewer and V2-P2:
V2 – P2: I’m in no position to [comment on improvements].
Interviewer: If you could?…
V2-P2: Well, I do not want to put my foot in my mouth.
Interviewer: You’re very satisfied?
V2-P2: Yeah, I cannot complain…I do not feel like I filled your…
Interviewer: Oh no, that’s alright. There are some people that have lots to share about [names shelter/housing program], some people that kind of are very satisfied.
V2-P2: Yeah, so how am I doing?
As noted in this exchange, V2-P2 was worried about not performing well in the interview and at the same time hesitated sharing recommendations of the housing program as he did not want to appear ungrateful. Going further, V1-P2 commented on how his indebtedness to the housing program encouraged him to volunteer as a way of paying back:
But you see, that is one of my dilemmas. I do not want to say anything that could hurt him because right now I am biased because of this help that they gave me, okay? They rescued me from the brink of falling again… You know, I am eager to please them with whatever it is that I could do…Because I’m so grateful for what they did, and what they are doing that I look forward to helping them with whatever I can, in order that I could play some important role also when I could help them out.
This sentiment illustrates a complex balancing act: appreciating current support while internally negotiating personal expectations and desires, a tension that resonates deeply within postcolonial frameworks, as discussed below.
Discussion
This secondary qualitative data analysis used a postcolonial lens to explore how older migrants experiencing homelessness perceive the shelter/housing programs that support them, and how this perception is intertwined with their perception of Canada. Analysis shows that participants used metaphors to express experiences of exclusion alongside those of gratitude and appreciation. The use of carceral metaphors – ‘inmates’ (M2-P2), ‘blacklist’ (M1-P2), ‘like a communist country’ (M1-P2) – speaks to a powerful perception that freedom, autonomy, and justice are compromised in certain shelter/housing programs, particularly for immigrants who lack familiarity with navigating Canadian institutions. Participants’ narratives reflect more than isolated grievances – they reveal recurring experiences of marginalization across housing programs. For many older migrants, the issue is not only about being underserved but is also about being structurally unheard (Guruge et al., Reference Guruge, Sidani and Illesinghe2021; National Seniors Council, 2024; Stewart et al., Reference Stewart, Shizha, Makwarimba, Spitzer, Khalema and Nsaliwa2011).
Viewed through a postcolonial lens, participant narratives reveal not only material neglect but also the enduring effects of colonial hierarchies embedded in institutional care systems. These institutions, though designed to provide refuge, frequently reinforce forms of epistemic violence – silencing, infantilization, and surveillance – that replicate colonial power dynamics (Spivak, Reference Spivak, Nelson and Grossberg1988). The rules, restrictions, and disciplinary structures that participants described – ‘They act like our mothers… they’ll show you the door’ – suggest a paternalistic model of governance. In this system, migrants are positioned as passive recipients of aid rather than as agents with voice, knowledge, and autonomy (Kanal & Rottmann, Reference Kanal and Rottmann2021). Treating older migrants as passive recipients of care mirrors what Fanon (Reference Fanon1963) described as the colonial state’s tendency to manage, contain, and mute the colonized under the guise of care. Resisting victimhood, participants often positioned themselves as collaborators or contributors, expressing eagerness to volunteer or give back to the institutions supporting them. This active engagement contests simplistic depictions of passive recipients of aid, instead underscoring a desire for meaningful roles within these social spaces.
Participants’ thankfulness was often expressed not from the adequacy of support received but from a comparative logic shaped by past trauma, displacement, and systemic abandonment. This has been termed performative gratitude and refers to expressions of thankfulness that may go beyond genuine feeling – sometimes shaped by a desire to conform to social norms, avoid criticism, or secure resources and acceptance (Iqbal et al., Reference Iqbal, Omar and Maghbouleh2021; Lê Espiritu & Vang, Reference Lê Espiritu and Vang2024). It can serve as a coping mechanism or survival strategy, especially in contexts where migrants face systemic barriers, discrimination, or marginalization (Iqbal et al., Reference Iqbal, Omar and Maghbouleh2021; Lê Espiritu & Vang, Reference Lê Espiritu and Vang2024).
Of note, gratitude has long been documented among both older adults and homeless people receiving care and support services. However, study findings suggests that among older migrants, gratitude is shaped not only by age-related dependence on housing programs but also by migration-related concerns regarding belonging, acceptance, and deservingness. Indeed, Grenier’s (Reference Grenier2021) analysis of late-life homelessness helps explain why performative gratitude was so prominent in participants’ narratives. Older adults experiencing homelessness often occupy positions of profound structural vulnerability, relying on housing and social service systems for safety and survival. For older migrants, this dependence may be compounded by migration-related experiences of exclusion and uncertainty regarding belonging. Within these circumstances, expressions of gratitude may serve as a strategy for negotiating access to resources and maintaining positive relationships with institutions. Participants’ gratitude, therefore, cannot be understood solely as an expression of personal appreciation. Rather, through a postcolonial lens, such gratitude becomes intertwined with broader narratives of deservingness, benevolence, and belonging that shape older migrants’ relationships with Canadian housing and social service systems.
Migrants often come to Canada with high expectations and an idealized view of the country as welcoming and generous (Government of Canada, 2024). Expressing gratitude can be a way to acknowledge this perceived benevolence, especially when government support or community assistance is received. Sometimes, however, this gratitude is also shaped by an implicit expectation that immigrants should show appreciation to ‘deserve’ their place in society. Scholars have noted that performative gratitude is often intertwined with postcolonial dynamics – where immigrants from formerly colonized or marginalized backgrounds may feel a need to express gratitude to the host country as a form of symbolic repayment or acceptance (Iqbal et al., Reference Iqbal, Omar and Maghbouleh2021; Tabatabai, Reference Tabatabai, Nyemba and Chitiyo2021).
This dynamic is further reinforced by the prevailing notion of the ‘good immigrant’ – a racialized and moralized ideal that rewards quiet resilience, compliance, and economic productivity while discouraging critique or claims to systemic justice (Kusari, Reference Kusari2021). Immigrants who speak out about structural inequities or seek support for housing, health, or aging-related needs may be perceived as ungrateful or undeserving, especially when their experiences challenge dominant narratives of Canadian benevolence (Barber, Reference Barber2013). As a result, migrants may feel compelled to suppress hardship and maintain a public image of gratitude and adaptability to remain socially accepted and politically invisible.
From a postcolonial perspective, gratitude is not merely an individual emotion but a political act embedded within unequal power relations (Ahmed, Reference Ahmed2014). Migrants’ expressions of gratitude can be viewed as part of a politics of recognition, a dynamic that echoes colonial histories where colonized subjects were expected to demonstrate loyalty and thanks to colonial rulers (Bhabha, Reference Bhabha1994; Bhambra, Reference Bhambra2014). This expectation often silences critiques of systemic inequities, as migrants perform gratitude to secure social acceptance and resources. Such an expression of gratitude mirrors what Ahmed (Reference Ahmed2010) refers to as ‘affective economies’, where emotions like gratitude circulate not freely but under conditions of structural coercion.
Postcolonial theory reminds us that the colonial subject was always constructed as one who should be grateful for the ‘civilizing mission’, even when that mission imposes surveillance, discipline, and erasure (Bhabha, Reference Bhabha1994). Similarly, participants’ accounts suggest that some shelter/housing programs may require migrant elders to accept institutional control and limited autonomy in exchange for minimal stability. ‘It’s better than the street’ becomes a rational survival logic, but it also reflects the narrow range of acceptable critique afforded to those who are racialized, poor, and perceived as beneficiaries rather than rights-holders.
Moreover, such a dynamic obscures structural accountability. When participants temper their criticisms by referencing the dangers of previous shelter/housing arrangements, the violence of life on the street or in their countries of origin, they may unintentionally reproduce the very conditions that limit transformation. The sentiment that ‘it’s not gonna’ happen here’ may reflect real improvement, but it also reveals how the bar for safety and dignity remains dangerously low for those situated outside dominant care regimes. As Fanon (Reference Fanon1963) warned, the colonial condition teaches its subjects to hope for relief rather than justice. These narratives echo that warning and call into question the broader systems that frame minimal care as exceptional.
Ultimately, a postcolonial reading challenges us to ask not only what care is given but who gets to define what is care. It demands that we consider how histories of migration, racialization, and colonial rule continue to shape both the delivery and the reception of care among marginalized older adults. This lens helps us make sense of how comparisons between Canada and other countries reveal how older migrants’ understandings of Canada are shaped by relational positionality – where perceptions of place are always negotiated in relation to other geographies and histories of migration. Safety, social support, and cultural acceptance emerge as significant lenses through which participants evaluate their new home, often resulting in a nuanced, if cautious, endorsement of Canada despite ongoing hardships. From a postcolonial perspective, these comparative narratives illuminate the enduring impact of colonial histories and global power dynamics on the lived experiences of immigrants. Participants’ framing of Canada as a ‘paradise’ or a ‘safe’ place relative to their countries of origin reflects more than mere appreciation – it signifies their navigation of a world shaped by uneven development, colonial extraction, and geopolitical inequalities (Bhambra, Reference Bhambra2014).
Canada, as a settler colonial state, occupies a contradictory position: it offers refuge and social supports that are often absent or inadequate in former colonies or authoritarian regimes, yet it remains deeply entangled in colonial legacies of exclusion and racialization (Tuck & Yang, Reference Tuck and Yang2012). Participants’ gratitude for social support and tolerance must be understood in light of these contradictions. Their hopeful comparisons do not erase systemic marginalization within Canada; rather, they reveal a strategic engagement with new spaces of belonging that are marked by ongoing colonial logics. Moreover, the invocation of multicultural tolerance as a point of difference highlights the performative nature of Canada’s national identity. Participants’ recognition of Canada’s relative openness thus coexists with experiences of structural barriers and cultural dislocation.
From a postcolonial lens, this interplay of gratitude, acceptance, critique, and agency highlights how marginalized individuals work to reconcile complex identities within settler-colonial welfare frameworks. The gratitude expressed can be seen as both genuine appreciation and a strategic posture shaped by historical conditions – recognizing the relative safety and resources provided in Canada, while still living within systems that often limit full autonomy and reinforce socioeconomic hierarchies. Participants’ reflections thus not only illuminate their lived realities but also invite critical inquiry into how postcolonial subjects negotiate belonging, recognition, and care within structures that simultaneously support and constrain them.
One of the key strengths of this study lies in its use of interviews with older immigrants experiencing homelessness, which allowed our team to centre the agency and stories of older migrants. This method enabled the uncovering of rich, nuanced accounts that revealed how participants make sense of home, belonging, and marginalization. The secondary data analysis also benefited from being embedded within a broader multi-site, mixed-methods study, allowing for diverse contexts and perspectives across three major Canadian cities. Furthermore, the use of an intersectional and postcolonial theoretical framework provided a critical lens through which to analyse structural inequities, revealing the complex interplay between age and migration status, within the housing system.
Nonetheless, the study has several limitations that should be considered. First, the original study did not explicitly focus on migration status, which limited the collection of key contextual data such as participants’ immigration histories, pathways to Canada, length of stay in Canada, or citizenship status. Second, only 4 of the 22 participants were women, which limits our ability to fully explore gendered dimensions of homelessness among older migrants, which has been noted as an important factor when understanding experiences of homelessness (Preston et al., Reference Preston, Shields and Akbar2022). Moreover, other dimensions of intersectionality (e.g., ability, sexual orientation) were also not captured in enough depth. Lastly, variability in the number of interviews per participant – due to study design, health issues, scheduling conflicts, or participant attrition – resulted in unequal data depth across cases.
Conclusion
This study has important implications for practice and research on homelessness, aging, and migration in Canada and can serve as a guide for future research. This study sheds light on the complex and often contradictory experiences of older migrants engaged with Canada’s shelter/housing systems. The expressions of gratitude articulated by participants must be understood not simply as emotional responses but as strategic and sometimes coerced performances shaped by histories of colonialism, displacement, and structural exclusion. While these narratives reflect resilience and adaptation, they also expose the persistent marginalization and epistemic violence embedded within institutional care systems. We argue that the sense of moral indebtedness older migrants feel toward Canada can create barriers to advocacy, feedback, or service improvement – ultimately reinforcing the marginalization of immigrant groups within the shelter/housing system.
To move from survival to justice, the care and shelter systems serving older migrants must be critically reimagined. Based on study findings, we offer several recommendations for practice and research. With regard to practice, first, service providers should be trained to recognize performative gratitude not as a sign of satisfaction but as a coping mechanism that may mask unmet needs. Creating anonymous culturally safe spaces and feedback mechanisms for critique can help surface the realities that go unspoken due to fear of reprisal or loss of support. Second, older migrants should not be seen merely as recipients of care but as co-creators of solutions and providers of care. Shelter and housing systems should institutionalize mechanisms for participatory decision making – such as advisory councils, peer-led programming, or resident boards – where older migrants have genuine influence over policies and practices. Third, a shift is needed from viewing care and housing as an act of generosity to recognizing it as a right of citizenship and personhood, regardless of migration status. This requires systemic investment in housing services that are designed with an equity framework and grounded in anti-racist, anti-colonial principles. Fourth, there is a need to promote structural literacy among service providers by encouraging a deeper understanding of the colonial and racialized foundations of housing and care systems. This can be done through anti-oppression training, partnerships with postcolonial scholars, and community-based research that highlights structural harms and advocates for systemic change (Hoselton, Reference Hoselton2024).
Regarding research, future research should move away from satisfaction surveys and other normative assessments that reinforce existing hierarchies. Instead, methodologies should aim to amplify subjugated knowledge, centre migrant voices, and engage critically with narratives of ‘gratitude’ and ‘safety’. Among others, the limitations of our study suggest that future studies must consider contextual data related to migration status, including participants’ immigration histories, pathways to Canada, length of stay in Canada, or citizenship status. In addition, further analysing the way gender intersects with migration status and age is necessary to better understand the impact of intersectional identities on migrants’ experiences of aging in Canada. Such studies would add to this one in better understanding how older migrants’ expressions of belonging, critique, and agency disrupt the notion of passive beneficiaries and call for a paradigm shift in how we conceptualize care, justice, and inclusion. Recognizing the structural forces that demand gratitude – and reimagining systems that uphold dignity and autonomy – are critical steps toward truly equitable care for immigrant older adults who are experiencing homelessness and housing insecurity.
Acknowledgements
This study was founded by the Social Sciences and Humanities Council and the Canada Mortgage Housing Corporation. We also respectfully acknowledge that Simon Fraser University is located on unceded and traditional territories of the Musqueam, Squamish, and Tsleil‐Waututh Nations; the University of Utah is located on the traditional and ancestral homelands of the Shoshone, Paiute, Goshute, and Ute Tribes; and the University of Calgary is located on the traditional territories of the peoples of Treaty 7, which include the Blackfoot Confederacy (comprised of the Siksika, the Piikani, and the Kainai First Nations), the Tsuut’ina First Nation, and the Stoney Nakoda (including Chiniki, Bearspaw, and Goodstoney First Nations). The City of Calgary is also home to the Métis Nation of Alberta (Districts 5 and 6). We would also like to acknowledge each participant’s time, interest, and insights.
Financial support
This research was made possible by the Canada Mortgage Housing Corporation (CMHC) and the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council (SSHRC) jointly funded Partnership Grant. The opinions and interpretations in this publication are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect those of CMHC or SSHRC.
Competing interests
The authors declare none.
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