Emergency Smile in France: June 2026

'This is freedom! We need freedom like that, as we don't have it here. We need happy people.'

A man walked up to our Head of Mission, Salomé, and shared this at a breakfast distribution in Calais. Around him, clown artists Nina, Rita and Arman moved along the queue with music, dance and circus props. 

The breakfast happens right next to the main living site in Calais. In June, police cleared it every week, sometimes several days in a row. People lost tents, clothes and belongings, then started again. Some had been waiting for weeks or months. We recognised several faces from our first visit, two months earlier. 

A long wait 

Between Calais and Dunkirk, 1,500 to 2,000 forcibly displaced people live at any one time, most in tents in the woods. Many hope to reach the UK by boat, a dangerous crossing people often try more than once. Children have no access to school. During our visit, no boats crossed until 15 June, when 710 people reached the UK in one day. The waiting keeps everyone under constant stress. 

Teenagers who grew up too fast 

Our very first session was at a France Terre d'Asile shelter for teenagers travelling alone. A boy in the front row watched the whole clown show with a sparkle in his eyes. At the next visit, he was there again, with the same look. He told Salomé the sessions did him good. 

Across nine sessions at five locations, the team worked with teenage boys aged 14 to 17, alongside France Terre d'Asile, Médecins Sans Frontières (Doctors Without Borders), Kaleidoscope and Utopia 56. In Longuenesse and Arras, each visit began with a parade to collect the boys from their small apartments. Soon they were joining in with shakers, songs and dance moves. Then came a show and a Circus Smile Workshop, where everyone tries juggling and other circus skills. Staff joined in too, which helped the boys trust the artists. 

At the Médecins Sans Frontières day centre in Calais, the boys started asking when the clown artists would come back. Some made their own juggling balls from balloons and sand. One staff member pointed out they make good stress balls too. 

Our last session was an open workshop with Kaleidoscope at a phone-charging point run by Channel Info Project, near the main living site in Calais. Around 40 teenagers joined, plus a few curious men. Many were faces we already knew. 

An hour to breathe 

In Grande-Synthe, our female clown artists joined the Refugee Women's Centre for the first time. That morning, police had cleared a nearby living site. Ten women came to the women's space to collect a new tent. Some told us their mood was low after facing police violence a few hours earlier. 

While they waited, the artists started some gentle games. Soft music played. Colourful scarves flew into the air. Within minutes, the women were giggling. We shared only a few words, and it was enough. At the end, they asked if we would come back. Staff said the hour helped them too. 

Children who keep asking to play 

At the Maison Sésame safe house, staff told us the children ask to play all the time but rarely get the chance. Over three visits, a quieter girl slowly found her way into the group, and her parents noticed. With Project Play in Grande-Synthe, around 30 children danced with the artists, then ran to show their mums the props.

In the queue for a meal 

With SALAM, the team joined lunches in Grande-Synthe, often people's only meal of the day, and breakfasts in Calais. On the first day in Grande-Synthe, over 1,200 people queued and tension rose. Staff saw it ease as the artists moved through. In Calais, some men felt it was only for children, but smiled anyway. The bravest tried a few circus props. Some even danced. 

What comes next 

For three weeks, in shelters, gardens and food queues, our team brought a little lightness to people who are given very little rest.