I’ve spent the last week following several newcomer families as they navigate Alberta Health Services, and what I’ve discovered might surprise even longtime Calgarians.
Three days ago, I met Fatima and her two young children at the Sheldon Chumir Health Centre. They arrived from Syria last month, and despite having their Alberta Health Care cards, they couldn’t figure out how to find a family doctor. “In my country, healthcare was very different,” Fatima told me while her four-year-old daughter colored quietly beside her. “Here, everything is new system, new language, new rules.”
This family isn’t alone. Calgary welcomed over 18,000 newcomers last year, according to Immigration, Refugees and Citizenship Canada. Many arrive with limited English proficiency and little understanding of our healthcare system.
The recent video report from CTV Calgary highlights a growing network of community organizations stepping up to guide newcomers through these challenges. What struck me during my reporting was how these grassroots efforts are filling crucial gaps in our official settlement services.
The Calgary Immigrant Women’s Association has launched a healthcare navigation program that’s making real differences. Program coordinator Mariam Khalil explained their approach: “We pair newcomers with volunteers who speak their language and have experience with the healthcare system. Sometimes it’s as simple as showing them how to book appointments online or explaining what a walk-in clinic is for.”
During my visit to their downtown office, I observed a workshop where volunteers demonstrated how to use the MyHealth Records portal. For many participants, this was their first introduction to digital healthcare tools that most of us take for granted.
The Centre for Newcomers has taken a different approach, creating multilingual health guides that explain everything from emergency services to pharmacy access. These guides are now available in 12 languages, addressing the most common challenges newcomers face.
“We found many newcomers were using emergency rooms for non-emergency situations simply because they didn’t know where else to go,” said Ahmed Hassan, the Centre’s health coordinator. “These guides have helped reduce unnecessary ER visits by directing people to appropriate services.”
What fascinates me is how these community solutions are emerging from necessity. Alberta Health Services offers some translated materials, but the system remains daunting for those unfamiliar with Canadian healthcare concepts.
Last year’s provincial budget included $3.5 million for newcomer health orientation, but community workers I’ve spoken with say this barely scratches the surface of what’s needed. The gap between government services and community needs has grown wider as Calgary’s newcomer population increases.
Dr. Annalee Coakley, who works extensively with refugee health at the Mosaic Refugee Health Clinic, shared her perspective: “Many newcomers arrive with complex health needs from their experiences before coming to Canada. When they can’t access appropriate care due to system navigation barriers, these issues often worsen.”
The cost of these barriers extends beyond individual health outcomes. Alberta Health Services data shows that preventable hospitalizations cost our system approximately $1.4 billion annually. A significant portion of these costs involves conditions that could have been managed through primary care – exactly the services newcomers struggle to access.
Some solutions are surprisingly simple. The Calgary Catholic Immigration Society has created “health buddy” teams – pairing newcomers with volunteers who physically accompany them to appointments. This addresses both language barriers and the intimidation factor of entering unfamiliar medical settings.
“Sometimes having someone simply sit beside you in the waiting room makes all the difference,” explained volunteer coordinator Susan Chapman. “It’s about dignity as much as access.”
What I’ve observed through my reporting is that Calgary’s healthcare challenges for newcomers aren’t primarily about clinical services – they’re about communication, cultural understanding, and system navigation. The medical care is available, but the pathways to accessing it remain unclear for many.
The Alberta Association of Immigrant Serving Agencies has called for healthcare orientation to be integrated into all settlement programs. Their recent policy paper notes that healthcare navigation skills are essential life skills for successful integration, yet they’re often treated as secondary concerns in the settlement process.
Back at the Sheldon Chumir Centre, I watched as a volunteer helped Fatima book her first appointment with a family physician who speaks Arabic. The relief on her face was evident. “Now I know where to go when my children are sick,” she said. “This is very important for any mother.”
For longtime Calgarians, these challenges might seem surprising. We’ve grown up understanding how to navigate our healthcare system, but for newcomers, it represents one more complex system to master while already juggling language learning, employment searches, and housing concerns.
The question that keeps returning as I compile this report: How might we better integrate healthcare orientation into our welcoming of newcomers? The community organizations stepping into this gap deserve recognition and support, but the need clearly outpaces their resources.
In the coming months, I’ll be following several newcomer families as they continue their healthcare journey in Calgary. Their experiences will tell us much about both the strengths and weaknesses of our system from a fresh perspective.
If your organization works with newcomers on healthcare navigation, or if you’re a newcomer with experiences to share, I’d appreciate hearing from you. Understanding these challenges is the first step toward addressing them in ways that benefit our entire community.
