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The CatalystConversations on Mental Health

Debra Slater is the type of person you want looking after your loved ones. A self-proclaimed born nurturer, she took care of her grandmother in Saint Vincent and the Grenadines and went to school to become a personal support worker (PSW) after moving to Canada. Slater loves talking to and learning from the older adults under her watch at a long-term care home on the outskirts of Toronto. She greets them by name, with eye contact and a smile, and strives to develop a rapport regardless of their cognitive condition. She treats clients as individuals while helping with activities of daily living – often referred to as “ADLs” in support work communities – such as bathing, getting dressed, and eating.

“You need to take time to understand their emotions and feelings,” says Slater, who has worked as a PSW on and off for more than 20 years. “You kind of become their family. They’re not ‘my patients.’ They’re people who want to be as independent as possible and this is their home. My job is to bring comfort and peace, love and companionship. It’s a whole vibe.”

Debra Slater

Debra Slater, a personal support worker, also coordinates the Empower PSW Network to advocate for better working conditions.

Slater maintains this attitude even though, on a typical shift, she has eight residents with diverse needs to juggle. One might have had a rough night; another could be dealing with a medical issue; and if any of Slater’s colleagues are absent, she’ll probably have additional clients. “On a difficult day, you have to work harder to be present,” says Slater, reflecting on all the de-escalation and problem solving she must do. “That takes a toll. My mental health is a roller coaster.”

Many care providers are in this profession because they have similar nurturing mindsets, yet 80 percent have considered changing careers, according to a report published last year by the Canadian Centre for Caregiving Excellence (CCCE).

Across the country, PSWs, direct support professionals (DSPs) – who work with clients with disabilities – and other paid health-care attendants are feeling stressed, overworked, and underpaid. The labour pool consists largely of racialized women, many of whom are newcomers to Canada, and they face high rates of abuse and discrimination on the job.

Working in congregative living facilities and providing home care for a patchwork of public and private employers, the majority are essentially gig workers without benefits such as paid sick days or access to counselling.

Fewer than half of the PSWs surveyed by the joint University of Toronto and St. Michael’s Hospital-based Upstream Lab said their health was good or excellent, which is lower than the national average. More than 20 percent likely had some form of depressive disorder, the researchers concluded in a 2022 paper, “significantly exceeding the prevalence of major depressive episodes among Canadians.”

In a country with an aging population, this is a significant challenge. If we don’t take care of PSWs and other care providers, how can they be expected to look after our most vulnerable citizens?

Risky business 

More than 650 PSWs in the Greater Toronto Area responded to the Upstream Lab survey, which found that:

  • 97% are born outside Canada.
  • 86% are precariously employed.
  • 89% lacked paid sick days.
  • 90% are women.
  • Many are casual employees, with wages that range from $17 per hour in home or community care to $25 per hour in public long-term care facilities.

This snapshot is representative of care providers across the country, according to the Upstream Lab paper, and their precarity is “significantly associated with higher risk of depression.”

Health-care jobs in Canada have traditionally been secure, but over the last three decades, “disparities in pay and work conditions have grown between registered professionals (such as physicians, nurses) and other staff whose jobs are part-time, temporary, on contract and not unionized,” the researchers wrote. A national focus on discharging people from acute care and aging in place has ramped up the demand for PSWs, who now constitute about 10 percent of all health-care workers. This workforce grew relatively quickly, says Upstream Lab director Dr. Andrew Pinto, without much scrutiny or consideration of the consequences.

These poor working conditions can be detrimental to physical and mental health, says Dr. Pinto, who, in addition to his role as a public health specialist, is also a family physician. In a system that incentivizes “reducing costs” and “doing more with less,” he says that many PSWs fear reprisal from their employers if they raise concerns about problems on the job. Pinto knows this from his research, and from the PSW patients he sees as a physician. “They’re really dedicated to caring for others and take pride in their work,” he says, “but they’re not given the respect they deserve.”

Dr. Andrew Pinto

Dr. Andrew Pinto: Better working conditions lead to better health outcomes. Photo by: Upstream Lab

Despite economic and demographic pressures, Pinto believes this system can be reformed. Because it’s funded predominantly by the public, a collective push for “a basic set of rights” — living wages, paid sick days, access to health resources, opportunities to flag systemic issues — will improve conditions for care providers, whether they work for government or private employers. “The public doesn’t want gig workers looking after their loved ones,” says Pinto. “Better quality jobs will not only improve the health of PSWs, they will also improve care and health outcomes for all Canadians.”

To continue the campaign for policy reform, the Upstream Lab’s research project has spawned the Empower PSW Network, a coalition of care providers seeking to raise awareness and advocate for change. Slater, the network’s coordinator, says that foremost, PSWs need more structured support. “It’s not the work that’s the problem — it’s how we’re treated.”

The silent treatment

Liv Mendelsohn, executive director of the CCCE, knows PSWs who live in their cars because they can’t afford housing. She’s heard stories about the stress of rushing between nursing homes and private residences from PSWs who cobble together gigs. “We rely on them to provide really intimate care,” she says, “but we don’t do enough to support their health.” Moreover, because a care provider’s permission to be in Canada can be tied to a particular employer, they often remain silent when facing discrimination or exploitative situations.

The CCCE has called on the federal government to implement a $25 per hour minimum wage for all PSWs. Mendelsohn also emphasizes the need for consistent benefits to prevent burnout and reduce the number of PSWs migrating to jobs in acute care for more stability. Despite the scale of this transformation, she’s hopeful. “We can’t not improve things,” she says. “There’s no way our system can continue without better support for PSWs.

“We don’t just need bodies,” adds Mendelsohn, envisioning a new era in which, for example, a senior with dementia is cared for by the same provider every day, improving their quality of life. “We need skilled, compassionate people and we need to acknowledge that they’re a critical part of our health-care system.”

In a different world, Kezia (last name withheld to protect her employment prospects) could have been one of those providers. Born in India and raised in the Bahamas, she moved to Prince Edward Island for university and supported herself by working as a DSP and PSW. Kezia assisted with ADL, cooked, cleaned, and accompanied clients to day programs and medical appointments. The learning curve was steep, but with supportive co-workers, she got into a groove. “We tried to foster a feeling of being at home,” she says. “After a while, it felt like a calling.”

But Kezia, who was in her early 20s at the time, also experienced racism and inappropriate sexual comments. Telling her manager about problems “was like hitting into a wall.” She felt unappreciated by her employers, even after working a 16-hour shift. If she missed a shift, she didn’t get paid, which meant she might not have enough money for rent or groceries. Exhausted, she was neglecting her own health. After three years, Kezia left the profession.

“If we were treated better, I might have stayed,” she says. “PSWs are the backbone of our health-care system, but I can never go back to working in the that field.” Instead, Kezia is going to school again. She’s studying to become a nurse.

Further reading: Mental Health at Work: It Matters: How to Start the Conversation.

Learn more: Caregiver resources from the Canadian Centre for Caregiving Excellence (CCCE).  

The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author(s) and do not necessarily reflect the official policy of the Mental Health Commission of Canada.

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