when survival becomes a full-time job: justin ducharme, sex work and the dreams of our youth

How many young people have to struggle just to afford the opportunity to pursue their dreams? And how many are forced into making difficult choices simply to survive?

I came across a CBC story about Justin Ducharme, a young Métis filmmaker from Manitoba who moved to Vancouver to pursue his education and his passion for filmmaking.

Like so many young people, he found himself broke, far from home and struggling to pay his bills. He turned to sex work because he needed to survive and wanted to continue his education rather than abandon his dreams.

His words stayed with me.

"I needed to survive."

Think about that for a moment.

A young person, trying to build a future, faced with the reality that the cost of living could force him to give up everything he had worked toward.

This is not just Justin's story. It is a reflection of a much bigger problem.

We live in a society where young people are told to dream big, work hard, get an education and make something of themselves. Yet we have created an economy where housing, food, tuition and basic necessities can be financially out of reach.

What happens when a young person has ambition but not the financial means to support it?

What happens when survival takes precedence over everything else?

Sex work is a complicated and often misunderstood subject. There are people who enter it by choice, people who enter it because of economic circumstances, and people who experience exploitation and coercion. Those experiences are not interchangeable, and we need to recognize the differences.

But we should be asking ourselves why so many people, including young people, face such limited options in the first place.

Justin Ducharme did more than survive. He kept creating.

His first feature film, Seventeen, premiered at the Toronto International Film Festival in September 2026 and is screening at the Vancouver International Film Festival this month.

The film follows three young, queer Indigenous sex workers in Vancouver over the course of 17 hours. It explores loss, connection, belonging and the importance of chosen family.

What I find especially meaningful is Justin's intention to tell a different kind of story.

Rather than reducing sex workers to stereotypes or portraying their lives only through tragedy, he wants to show their relationships, tenderness, intimacy and humanity.

He credits the other sex workers in his life, particularly those who mentored and supported him when he was young, for helping him get to where he is today.

That is community. That is people looking out for one another when the world doesn't necessarily make room for them.

And that is something worth celebrating.

As a society, we spend an awful lot of time judging people for the ways they survive. We debate morality, sexuality and personal choices while often overlooking the circumstances that shape those choices.

Perhaps we should spend more time asking why a young person needs to choose between pursuing an education and paying rent.

Why is affordable housing so difficult to find?

Why are so many young people living precariously, working multiple jobs or relying on whatever income they can find?

And why are the people who have the least financial security so often the ones expected to shoulder the greatest burden of responsibility?

I want to see a world where young people have genuine choices. Where education doesn't come at the cost of basic survival. Where housing is a human necessity rather than a luxury. Where people aren't forced to sacrifice their safety or well-being just to make ends meet.

Justin Ducharme's success is something to celebrate. But I don't want us to lose sight of the circumstances that brought him to sex work in the first place.

His story is also a reminder of the power of art.

Film, photography, painting, writing and all forms of creative expression can open doors into lives we might otherwise never understand. They can challenge our assumptions and help us see people as individuals rather than labels.

Justin is a filmmaker, an artist and a storyteller. He is also a young Métis man whose lived experiences have helped shape his creative work.

His film deserves an audience.

And his message deserves to be heard.

Let's support independent filmmakers. Let's listen to Indigenous and queer voices. And let's start taking the economic struggles of our young people seriously.

Because surviving should not have to be the price of pursuing a dream.

Reflective Questions

Why should a young person have to choose between education and financial survival?

What does economic freedom really mean when basic necessities are unaffordable?

How much of our judgment about sex work comes from stigma rather than understanding?

Are we doing enough to protect and support young people who live far from their home communities?

What role can art and storytelling play in changing the way we see marginalized communities?