Identity documentation is northwestern Ontario's 'invisible problem,' researchers say

Joseph "Martial" Arbour was born Oct. 30, 1952, but getting a birth certificate to prove it has transformed him into other people and brought him back from places he's never been.

From the government misspelling his name, to misidentifying his date of birth, to having declared him dead in Quebec City, Arbour has spent four years trying to get an accurate version of the foundational document that proves his identity.

The debacle held back his applications for a social insurance number, a status card, and banking. He said the latest version of his birth certificate is "mostly straight now," even though his mother is still misidentified and he can't procure hospital records to prove otherwise.

"I thought I'd get it right away but it took so long," he said. "It's been crazy. I don't worry about this stuff. I just let it go and hopefully, they get it straight sooner or later."

According to researchers with Lakehead University, Kinna-aweya Legal Clinic and the NorWest Community Health Centres, stories like Arbour's are even more common than even they expected — and they're calling on Ontario to take action.

Their three-year study, "Eliminate Systemic Barriers To Obtaining And Keeping Ontario Birth Certificates," surveyed 600 people seeking identification. It found barriers such as cost, bureaucracy, accessibility, and health are making the process inaccessible.

"What we've learned is that this is an invisible problem," said Lakehead University medical sociologist Chris Sanders. "We had no idea it was such a widespread problem."

The basic application cost for a birth certificate can be as low as $25, but in cases where entire families are lacking documentation or if they need to retain lawyers, Sanders said he's seen costs as high as $1,000.

The research team issued six recommendations for Ontario on Friday, including eliminating all fees, simplifying applications, eliminating guarantor requirements, recognizing kinship agreements, and for birth certificates to remain with those in care or custody. They're also asking the province to create smaller and more durable birth certificates, as the paper versions can be deemed invalid if folded or damaged.

Sanders and Kinna-aweya director of administration Beth Ponka both said the lack of human resources Ontario commits to identification is limiting access. Their study found Indigenous people face unique challenges resulting from colonial interventions that have divided families.

Ponka, who has been part of local identification clinics and an "ID bank" to preserve identification since 2012, pointed out that human interaction is critical to efficiently and accurately processing the information.

"There are people who can't get ID and there's no place for them to go to access help," she said. "Service Ontario, there isn't access to help you figure out what is the proper spelling of your mother's last name or if you were born in the bush, how do you go about registering your birth? There are a lot of barriers, especially for Indigenous people."

Over the course of Arbour's journey to get his own identification, he has managed to connect with estranged family members across the country. Last year, at the age of 68, he hopped on his bike and rode westward along with a fundraiser for Toronto's SickKids hospital called the Great Cycle Challenge. He visited with a brother in Winnipeg and a sister picked him up in Regina. He said he's going to keep travelling.

"Once I got my birth certificate, I started checking the internet," he said.