“Refugees didn’t just escape a place. They had to escape a thousand memories until they’d put enough time and distance between them and their misery to wake to a better day.” — Nadia Hashimi
Nearly 118 million people worldwide were forcibly displaced by war, violence and persecution at the end of 2025. Now, following sweeping United States policies, many high-income countries are restricting refugee access to asylum, education and work. Against this backdrop, last September we published the Halifax Declaration arguing for a different approach: one that recognizes displaced people not as passive aid recipients, but as partners in building resilient health, education and social systems.
We are four scholars shaped by forced displacement, three of us directly, one intergenerationally. Our journeys span global regions yet share common lessons: talent and motivation alone are insufficient for displaced youth to succeed. Success requires targeted investments in education, mentorship and paid opportunities that allow displaced youth to contribute and integrate meaningfully.
Facing record global displacement and shrinking protected spaces, Canada’s refugee resettlement policies matter more than ever as a humanitarian response and an expression of national identity and long-term self-interest.
Interrupted educations, delayed futures
One of us grew up in Syria dreaming of becoming a physician after witnessing the collapse of health care during civil war. That dream sustained her through displacement to Lebanon, where missing documentation and unaffordable tuition led to a year out of school. Arriving in Canada as a teenager, she was placed in classes below her age and abilities. Without guidance on the education system or financial pathways, medicine seemed unattainable. With mentorship, she completed an honours undergraduate degree, a master’s in population health and is now in medical school in University of Calgary’s physician-scientist training program. Her story illustrates how easily potential can be underestimated, and how mentorship can reverse that trajectory.
Another of us was displaced from Kabul to Tajikistan days before the Taliban takeover in August 2021, only months away from completing a dentistry degree. In exile, he encountered racism, limited access to health care and few educational options. Eighteen months later, he secured admission to a Canadian master’s program in global health through a refugee scholarship. Document and visa delays nearly derailed everything, forcing him to begin online and attend classes overnight. His experience shows how bureaucratic barriers, not lack of ability, delay or prevent refugee education.
A third, a Sudanese transgender woman, was forced to flee shortly before graduating from medical school due to identity-based persecution. In Turkey, she spent five years unable to resume her studies or access stable employment because of refugee restrictions. She turned to humanitarian and queer rights advocacy, work that led to repeated detention and, ultimately, rescue and resettlement in Canada through a humanitarian visa. Her path shows how displacement compounded by gender and racial discrimination demands targeted support.
The fourth member of our group is the child of Uruguayan political refugees who fled repression in the 1970s and rebuilt their lives in Alberta. Despite interrupted educations and years of struggle, both parents pursued post-secondary training in Canada and instilled respect for education, gratitude to Canada and a responsibility to give back. Today, that legacy shapes a commitment to migration health research, mentoring displaced youth and extending the same mentorship, scholarships and employment that make opportunity tangible.
Mentorship as infrastructure, not charity
Our stories are not exceptional. Research shows that refugee youth face disrupted schooling, psychological stress, financial insecurity and limited access to guidance, undermining long-term educational, mental health and economic outcomes. Early educational and social support can mitigate these harms.
We came together through the Migration and Humanitarian Health Collective (MH2C), a University of Calgary based research, education and innovation platform focused on refugee and migrant health. This program enables displaced youth to gain Canadian experience while contributing to research, teaching and policy that benefit the health system and broader society.
Canada’s health systems face staffing shortages, burnout and major care access gaps. National workforce analyses show that improving supply and retention requires better integration of internationally trained professionals. Immigrants already account for roughly one in four health-care workers. Three of us are moving toward careers in medicine, public health and clinical research at a moment of acute workforce need, illustrating how resettlement supports and mentorship can translate displacement into capacity.
Why this matters for Canada now
Canada is not immune to global political shifts, especially as it reasserts its policy independence. Recent adjustments to Canada’s immigration targets may respond to housing and infrastructure pressures, but restricting refugee resettlement is a mistake. As the U.S. halts asylum and refugee resettlement and European countries adopt restrictive policies, Canada’s leadership matters more.
Education, mentorship and integration are central to that leadership. Fewer than seven per cent of refugees globally access higher education, despite evidence that education improves health, employment and social cohesion. Investing in refugee education aligns with global commitments and Canada’s own interests: educated newcomers integrate faster and contribute economically, socially and civically.
There are promising scholarship and training models in Canada and internationally. Yet, Canada is losing highly skilled newcomers because of inadequate credential recognition and integration pathways, a loss of human capital at a time of demographic strain. Immigration and scholarships are necessary but insufficient alone without mentorship, recognition of prior training and workforce integration.
From lived experience to public policy
Collectively, our lived experiences and research point to a unifying conclusion. Displacement does not erase talent or ambition. It magnifies inequities and wastes potential when integration systems fail. When institutions invest in education, mentorship and paid opportunities for refugee youth, the returns extend beyond individual success stories. They strengthen communities and health systems and reinforce Canada’s identity as a multicultural country built through migration. We call this the “refugee fire”: the urgency and commitment that emerge when displaced youth who have lost so much are given opportunities to learn and work.
As forced displacement reaches historic highs, the question is not whether Canada can afford to invest in refugee education. It is whether we can afford not to.
