If we are serious about interrupting the pipeline from incarceration to homelessness for Indigenous men, we must design programs around the specific needs of the people moving through that pipeline.
For many Indigenous men, that means connection to culture and traditional healing. It means support that recognizes their humanity and allows them to try, struggle, and try again until they succeed.
Unfortunately, many mainstream reintegration programs do not offer this. And the numbers tell us these mainstream approaches aren’t working. Among Indigenous men released from federal custody, about 60% are convicted again within five years, compared with 38% of all federal releases in the same cohort. Roughly 30% of people released from federal and provincial institutions face homelessness within two years.
For policymakers, funders, corrections leaders, and community safety advocates, the issue is not whether reintegration matters. It is whether we are willing to design it properly.
The First Weeks After Release Are Critical
The first weeks after release are often the most fragile. Housing instability, rigid parole conditions, discrimination, and unresolved trauma can quickly pull someone back into custody. Many men carry trauma, addiction, distrust of institutions, and survival strategies that kept them safe while incarcerated but complicate stability once they return to the community. If programs are not built for that reality, reincarceration, homelessness, or both become predictable. And if we don’t ensure that the men leaving have somewhere safe to go, we are knowingly letting them fall dangerously down the pipeline.
Healing and Reintegration Isn’t Always Linear
Mainstream reintegration models tend to assume linear progress. Complete the program. Follow conditions. Transition smoothly. But healing from colonial trauma, systemic discrimination, cultural disconnection, and incarceration rarely unfolds in a straight line. Some men are ready to transition and heal immediately. Others take time.
Sagatay Was Designed to Meet the Needs of Indigenous Men & Research Shows the Program Works
Sagatay, meaning “A New Beginning” in Anishinaabemowin, is an Indigenous-led transitional housing program operated by Na-Me-Res (Native Men’s Residence) in Toronto. It provides up to one year of structured housing combined with Elder guidance, ceremony, drumming, language classes, land-based healing, weekly case management, access to healthcare and psychiatry, employment and education support, and sustained aftercare.
What makes Sagatay effective is not only that it is Indigenous-led or that it offers comprehensive programming. It is also that the program recognizes that men arrive at different levels of readiness for reintegration and healing. The program holds that reality rather than punishing it.
These findings come from a summative outcomes evaluation of Sagatay conducted by Hub Solutions, the social enterprise of the Canadian Observatory on Homelessness, in partnership with Na-Me-Res, drawing on 13 years of program data and story gathering with current and former participants, staff, and an Elder.
The Program Results Are Striking
Among 87 former clients between 2012 and 2025, roughly three-quarters of whom were designated high risk, 41 to 44% successfully completed parole. That figure may look low against national averages, but national benchmarks blend low-, medium-, and high-risk populations together, and more than half of Sagatay’s participants arrive on statutory release, the release type with the lowest completion rates nationally. In that context, the results point the other way. Completion rose to 69% in the post-pandemic period (2023 to 2025), up from 38% before the pandemic. Men who arrived on day parole completed at 65 to 72%. And Sagatay takes men with Dangerous Offender designations, whom most healing lodges and community residential facilities decline in practice, and supports them to reintegrate.
Every former participant the evaluation spoke with was still housed and sober, some more than two years after leaving, supported by a guaranteed pathway into Na-Me-Res housing and ongoing aftercare.
The broader research points the same way. A Correctional Service Canada’s own matched-comparison study found that among Indigenous men released from healing lodges, completing Indigenous cultural programming was associated with a 54% lower risk of having their release revoked, after controlling for risk and need. And the cost case is just as clear: the evaluation calculated an audited cost of $194.70 per night for a Sagatay bed dedicated to a man leaving federal custody, about 48% of the daily cost of a federal institution and 47% of a CSC-run healing lodge.
The evidence is clear. Meeting Indigenous men where they are, and providing the right supports at the right time, is essential to stopping the pipeline from incarceration to homelessness.
Lyall’s Success Story
“They’ve helped me so much. They make you feel like you’re human.”
When Lyall arrived at Sagatay after serving eight and a half years, he had little interest in programming. “I came with a jail mentality,” he says. “Keep to yourself. Don’t say nothing.” He had participated in other programs across Canada and described them as impersonal and culturally disconnected, and assumed this program would be the same.
But what felt different for Lyall about Sagatay was the sense of connection. To culture, to the staff, and to the other program members. “Everybody knows each other… just like a family almost.” At Sagatay, Lyall participated in drum-making, language classes, sweat lodges every two weeks, had access to Elders, on-site health care, and caring staff. “There’s nothing like Sagatay anywhere,” he says.
He was also able to address his addictions, which he says he would have never been able to do without Sagatay. “I got my first aid, CPR and safe-food handling…things that prepare you for work…I have my mental health counselor’s email and phone numbers and so if I’m going through something, I can reach out. And even after I graduated from the program, I’ve had access to this support, and it has really helped.”
“I love it here!” Lyall says. “I’m from Saskatchewan and I thought as soon as I got out I would go home. But I’m still here because I’m sober, and If I go home, it might not be like that, he said. “At Sagatay, I’m supported and safe”.
Jake’s Success Story
“I had lost my spirit and was broken, but I’m still standing. Sagatay helped me stay afloat. They help me stay positive.”
When Jake connected with Sagatay, he was looking for one thing: success. And for him, that meant employment, inclusion, and to connect with his children.
Battling the court system before his incarceration had depleted his financial resources, and Sagatay helped him get back on his feet when he was released.
“When I was incarcerated, I pretty much disconnected my operating system,” Jake says, describing himself as unplugged. Sagatay helped him feel reconnected. Today, Jake works at Sagatay as a cook, is thinking about continuing his education, and is still a strong part of the Sagatay ecosystem.
“If you want a second chance, this is it. I got my chance here.”
Lucas’ Success Story
“They give you every opportunity in the world… they teach you how to stay out.”
Lucas did not find stability the first time he entered Sagatay. Or the second. “I was there three times,” he says. “First time, two months. Second time, two weeks. Third time, sixteen months.”
After decades in and out of prison, living in a state of what he describes as constant “combat alert” that he had developed while incarcerated, the first two attempts in the program did not stick. But Sagatay refused to close the door. When he returned after another long sentence, he remembers that Sagatay staff said “Luke, you keep getting knocked down and you keep getting up and trying.”
Something shifted for him that third time in the program, and he says he became a different person. “I wanted to change my life. I was serious about it.”
Over 16 months, Lucas entered treatment, rebuilt sobriety, saved nearly $20,000, reconnected with his children and grandchildren, began leading men’s circles in the program, and helped four of his friends enter treatment, which was a real point of pride for him.
His progress was gradual, and what made the difference was that Sagatay’s support remained steady long enough for Lucas to be in a place to heal. “If you’re committed to it,” he says, “they are a big help.”
“It’s too bad there’s not more programs like Sagatay around”, Lucas says.
The Capacity Gap & Why Investment in Sagatay Matters
The gap between need and capacity is significant.
Sagatay currently has only six beds for men leaving federal custody, and the waitlist is long. Nationally, the picture is no better. As of 2023, just 389 healing lodge beds existed across the country, only 139 of them run by Indigenous communities, against 4,216 Indigenous people in federal custody. Hundreds of Indigenous men express interest in Section 81 and 84 community placements every year; only dozens receive them.
Scaling the Sagatay model will require capital investment for additional facilities, stable multi-year operational funding, equitable allocation of Indigenous programming budgets, reform of biased risk assessment tools, and streamlined access to Section 84 community releases.
If public investment aims to reduce homelessness, improve public safety, and advance reconciliation, expanding Indigenous-led reintegration models should be considered evidence-informed policy. Sagatay supports housing stability, restores identity, and helps high-risk men complete parole at rates that mainstream benchmarks fail to contextualize.
The question now is whether funding structures will align with what the evidence already shows.
What To Read Next
Sagatay Series
- Investing in Sagatay: An Evidence-Based Model for Indigenous Community Reintegration
- Sagatay is a Proven, Cost-Effective Solution that Helps Indigenous Men Thrive Post-Incarceration
- Sagatay: Proven Indigenous-Led Community Reintegration — An Evidence-Based Model Ready to Scale
- Sagatay Creates A New Beginning for Indigenous Men Leaving Incarceration
- Hub Solutions evaluation report
Learn More About Indigenous Homelessness
- Indigenous Definition of Homelessness (Jesse Thistle, Canadian Observatory on Homelessness)
- Indigenous Homelessness Overview (Homeless Hub)
- Environmental Scan: Indigenous Shelter Diversion and Prevention