Photo: Jennifer Rankin
By Patrick Quinn
Local Journalism Initiative Reporter
Windspeaker.com
As Jennifer Rankin steps into the role of chief executive officer of the National Association of Friendship Centres (NAFC), the organization is facing uncertainty about its long-term funding.
With no mention of the country’s more than 100 friendship centres in November’s federal budget, the NAFC is concerned that urban Indigenous people will be left behind.
While the NAFC’s core funding has come from the Urban Programming for Indigenous Peoples (UPIP) since 2017, this federal program sunsets in 2026 and nothing has been formally committed after the fiscal year ending March 31.
Although Indigenous Services Minister Mandy Gull-Masty has promised stability and continuity of services, the Ontario Federation of Indigenous Friendship Centres (OFIFC) has said its bracing for federal support to be less than half of what’s required.
Following the budget’s release, a spokesperson for Indigenous Services Canada told CBC the UPIP program will move to a new model of distribution, with the NAFC and OFIFC being the sole recipients of $27.5 million in annual program funding. A government website notes that more than $70 million was provided the network of friendship centres in 2024-2025. The NAFC has called for long-term, sustainable funding of $65 million annually.
Gull-Masty has recently indicated an announcement on urban Indigenous programming is forthcoming.
“There’s been some language from the minister that they want to maintain the integrity and that support of friendship centres,” said Rankin. “I feel like that’s a signal there’s hopefully an announcement coming for us. The funding uncertainty makes it harder to build those other partnerships to grow.”
A proud member of Batchewana First Nation, Rankin has experience building those partnerships over 12 years working at the NAFC and other national Indigenous organizations. After working closely with the NAFC’s exiting CEO over the last few years, Rankin said it’s been a natural transition from her previous role as senior director.
Rankin’s vision for the association to become nationally recognized as “an essential partner in social and economic infrastructure” for the country’s one-million-plus Indigenous peoples living in urban areas.
By repositioning the NAFC’s successes in creating jobs, building projects and providing emergency response, Rankin believes they’re better aligned with the current political mandate.
There are about 3,100 staff employed in friendship centres across Canada working with more than 10,300 volunteers to deliver holistic wraparound services that include everything from prenatal to end-of-life care, housing and shelter, job training and placement, childcare, transportation and cultural revitalization services.
Many centres offer language classes and some offer mental health treatments, land-based learning and health services. Val-d’Or’s centre in Northern Quebec hosts the trailblazing Minowé Clinic’s culturally grounded healthcare alongside innovative initiatives like transitional housing and traditional healing programs.
Val d’Or’s longtime executive director Edith Cloutier quoted a study that for every dollar received from the federal government, friendship centres have the capacity to multiply it by nine by leveraging other provincial sources, foundations, philanthropy or social economy initiatives. She told Windspeaker she’s concerned that NAFC funding will be brought back to pre-pandemic levels.
“During COVID-19, people were coming in for their vaccinations in a culturally safe space,” Rankin recalled. “Lots of friendship centres were deemed essential services and were still able to provide food, housing and shelter support. First Light in St. John’s gets called on by the medical field to teach new doctors and nurses about the Indigenous people in that area.”
With growing climate change pressures disproportionately impacting Indigenous communities, friendship centres have provided vital frontline support. When 200 people from Kashechewan First Nation were evacuated to Kingston, Ont. in January, the local friendship centre’s volunteers led cultural programming and other service delivery.
“Last July, our annual meeting was relocated from Brandon, Manitoba because the friendship centre there was supporting wildfire evacuees from surrounding communities,” said Rankin. “We’ve stepped up when there were fires in British Columbia and when there have been floods.”
While the country’s first friendship centres emerged in the early 1950s as Indigenous people migrated to urban areas, the network has evolved to meet the needs of younger generations raised in cities. As inclusive spaces, some centres are reporting a 30 per cent increase in newcomers to Canada accessing their services and learning more about Indigenous issues.
UPIP funding has enabled the NAFC to expand from under 10 staff to more than 30 in the past decade, supporting strategic growth of the friendship centre movement. Best practices were shared at the third Urban Indigenous Summit in December through panels focused on housing, youth involvement, Afro-Indigenous identity and mental health programming.
“Most friendship centres have seen extreme growth in the past four or five years,” said NAFC board president Pam Glode-Desrochers. “It would cost billions of dollars to duplicate this social infrastructure. Certainly the growth that Canada is looking to do around the economy can’t be done without us.”
Having worked with the friendship centre movement for more than 30 years, Glode-Desrochers is also executive director of the Mi’kmaw Native Friendship Centre in Halifax. That centre was already facing layoffs before the Nova Scotia government cut its entire grant as well as other Mi’kmaq education services, African programs, arts funding and disability supports.
Hundreds of protesters gathered before the Nova Scotia legislature on March 3 to demand the government honour Indigenous rights, culture and the environment.
While friendship centres have been resourceful in developing new partnerships and finding alternative funding sources, Glode-Desrochers said scaling back risks losing food programs, mentors and housing supports that community members rely upon.
“Unfortunately if I don’t have funding confirmed, it will ultimately affect our community members,” said Glode-Desrochers. “We don’t represent anybody, but we advocate for our communities and we want them to be safe and secure. What has been put forward is just a drop in the bucket.”
With funding constraints deterring the movement’s growth, Rankin’s top priority is communicating the NAFC’s proven impact as an economic partner providing essential services. She hopes a recently launched data collection strategy will “flip the narrative” to better reflect the reality of their work.
“I think the scale of our work has outgrown some of the systems that it’s meant to support,” said Rankin. “Imagine what we could do if we spent all our efforts actually building what we need rather than defending why we still need long-term stable investments.”