There used to be another word for temporary foreign workers. They were called immigrants. They did jobs that, we’re told, Canadians now don’t want to do. That included mining, assembly-line manufacturing, construction and cleaning. They did them with relative verve because they were en route to being Canadians and so were their kids — especially the kids.
Many of us speak from that experience. They did them happily enough because those jobs didn’t totally define their lives. They bought and carefully tended homes, preventing downtowns like Toronto’s from becoming U.S.-type slums, at least until the “Canadians” started moving back downtown. Again, I know of what I speak. (They were often mystified when their kids returned to streets they escaped.) They were able to improve their lot, at least modestly, via union membership.