Waiting for the Draw

Toronto is full of people waiting.

Most of the time the waiting is ordinary—people standing on subway platforms, refreshing job listings, hoping the next opportunity arrives soon enough.

But for some people, the waiting carries more weight. It’s about legal status, family stability, and whether the life they began building in Canada will actually be allowed to continue.

One afternoon, while driving rideshare, I picked up a woman who came to Canada from Jamaica in 2019.

She arrived as an international student and believed the path ahead was straightforward: study in Canada, gain work experience, eventually become a permanent resident.

“That’s what they were saying,” she told me. “If you come here to school, you’ll get your PR.”

She studied project management and completed the program. After graduating, a three-year work permit allowed her to stay and work while building toward permanent residency.

For a while, things moved forward as planned.

Then the permit expired in 2024.

The renewal application was rejected, and since then she and her husband have remained in Canada under visitor status, waiting for something to change.

“We’re just here as visitors,” she said. “Struggling to survive.”

Her husband is in the same position.

“We’re swimming in the same boat,” she added. “Trying not to sink.”

Their situation became more complicated—and more rooted in Canada—when their son was born here. He’s now two and a half years old, a Canadian citizen.

He also has a hearing condition that requires regular monitoring.

That reality is one of the main reasons the family hasn’t returned to Jamaica. In Canada, their son receives treatment and monitoring through the healthcare system. Back home, she said, the same care would be extremely expensive. She had already looked into the price of specialized hearing devices and described the cost of a single pair as overwhelming.

“In Canada it’s free,” she said.

Because their son was born here, he has health coverage. His parents do not. If either of them needs medical care, they have to pay out of pocket—about a hundred dollars just to see a doctor at a clinic.

At the same time, she’s still trying to qualify for permanent residency.

Her profile sits in the Express Entry pool under the Canadian Experience Class. Her score is 490. In the most recent draw, the cutoff was higher, so her profile remains where it is—active, but waiting.

To squeeze out a few more points, she keeps retaking the English language test.

“I did it about ten times,” she said.

Each attempt costs more than three hundred dollars, and every point can make a difference. The system weighs everything—education, language ability, work history, even a spouse’s qualifications.

But without a valid work permit, gaining more Canadian work experience—one of the main ways to increase a score—is no longer possible.

She has filed other applications as well.

One is a humanitarian and compassionate request connected partly to her son’s medical condition. Another is a Temporary Resident Permit that could allow her and her husband to work legally again.

Both applications have been pending since last year.

Processing times are uncertain. At one point, she said she was told the humanitarian application could take decades.

For now, life is measured week by week.

Without legal work authorization, the couple sometimes relies on cash jobs just to cover basic expenses.

“We know it’s illegal,” she said. “But that’s the only way to survive.”

Still, they remain in the system. Their applications are active. Their file exists somewhere in the queue.

They are waiting for the next draw, waiting for a decision, waiting for some kind of path forward.

As we reached her destination, she asked about the name of my podcast.

“The Canadianist,” I told her, handing her a card.

She said she might look it up.

Then she stepped out of the rideshare and continued on her way—still waiting for the next number to be called.

Another life in Canada.

Another story about what it means to arrive and then find yourself suspended somewhere between hope and uncertainty.