Mr. Speaker, as I rise in the House for the last time, I want to begin by acknowledging that we are gathered on the traditional unceded territory of the Algonquin people.
I hope that territorial recognition will soon be included at the opening of the House every day.
Some members, especially my karaoke friends, might have thought that I would start by singing my best karaoke version of Wind Beneath My Wings and then dedicate it to all the staff, volunteers and colleagues, or maybe I would just reiterate my advice to women in politics: no high heels and never check a bag. I hope members are not disappointed.
I have now represented the engaged citizens of Toronto—St. Paul's for more than 26 years. It is longer than I practised medicine, and next year will be my 50th anniversary of graduating from medicine, “class of 7T4”, U of T. When I got to my 18th year in Parliament, I joked that the over 2,000 babies I had delivered could now all vote. I promise that was never the long-term strategy of “the doctor delivers”.
After being a family doctor for over 20 years and our successful fight for the independence of Women's College Hospital, I had an unsuccessful run in provincial politics in 1995. I remember that when I was first asked to run, I answered that I know nothing about politics. The response was, “What do you think you just did? Saving Women's College Hospital was politics.”
Whenever I visit the grade 5 classrooms, I ask the students why anyone would leave the respected profession of medicine to become a politician, which is one of the least-respected callings there is. Sometimes after much discussion, there is an answer that makes me smile: “You wanted to make a difference. You wanted to help more people.” As difficult as it was to make a decision to leave my patients, I have never regretted the choice.
I have loved the work here in Parliament, but also the inspiration of the Toronto—St. Paul's community: the farmers' markets at Wychwood Barns and Little Jamaica; the transformation of the Spadina Museum and Casa Loma to better reflect the diversity of Toronto, ensuring that everyone feels included. I love walking in the ravines, along the Beltline Trail and being stopped by neighbours with great suggestions for building a better and fairer community, country and a sustainable planet; working on the Toronto—St. Paul's summits with Josh Matlow and Shelley Laskin; and conspiring at Aroma with my Yonge and Eglinton MP neighbours, the member for Don Valley West and the member for Eglinton—Lawrence. I am grateful to William Watson, who has been my riding president for over a decade, for his leadership, friendship and invaluable editorial skills, especially grammar and punctuation.
As an MP, like a doctor, every day we are learning something new and helping people. In 1995, when introducing Liberal leader Lyn McLeod at a campaign event in downtown Toronto, I defined leadership as vision, values and risk-taking. I still believe that. Leadership is not defending the status quo. We have all come to this place to build an even better Canada. I am proud that from the very first day I stepped onto Parliament Hill as an MP, I have profoundly understood the responsibility and the privilege of being part of a small group of Canadians who steer the direction of the best country in the world. That has not changed in over 26 years. Every day, I come to this place still acutely aware of my responsibility to do the best I can to support the policies that are good for the most people or the people who need it most.
In 1997, I knew that I had been elected in a bellwether riding: Roland Michener, Ian Wahn, Ron Atkey, John Roberts, again Ron Atkey, John Roberts, Barbara McDougall and Barry Campbell.
I decided that I needed to take my family doctor's understanding of patient as partner into my my new role as an elected representative and have it shape a respectful two-way relationship with the people I was representing. The parallel was important. As a doctor, I would ask what was wrong, I would listen and then together with the patient we would make a plan. The patient knew their body best. I knew the system best. It was a partnership, with the sum greater than the parts.
From the beginning, it was clear that the people I represented knew what was working and what was not, and they so often had impressive advice and solutions.
I took Jane Jacobs' advice that good public policy comes when the decision-makers can keep in their mind's eye the people affected.
I also learned from Professor Stephen Coleman, the British expert on citizen engagement, that citizens do not want to govern, but they do want to know that they have been heard. I learned from my friend Richard Allan, now in the Lords at Westminster, on the potential of e-democracy.
Over the past few months, I have been sorting through many boxes. There are boxes from my early years in this House as chair of the subcommittee on persons with disabilities, chair of the Canada-Israel parliamentary friendship group, chair of the women's caucus twice, minister of state for public health, and in opposition, my various critic roles. From 2011 to 2015 was a life-changing experience, as Bob Rae appointed me the critic for indigenous affairs. There were boxes from my cabinet roles in this government.
I found that the biggest box by far dealt with the ongoing theme of democratic reform. Democratic reform to me has always included four things: parliamentary reform, party reform, electoral reform and meaningful citizen engagement. The last one I call democracy between elections. It became my brand. I actually found another box at the cottage. It was research and outline for a book I began 10 years ago, “Democracy between elections: a politician's guide to listening and a citizen's guide to being heard”. I may have to get back to that.
I have had the benefit of a posse of inspiring feminists who have kept the titanium in my spine: the late Doris Anderson, Ursula Franklin and Monique Bégin. The status quo was not okay.
Ursula helped me understand that government must be fair, transparent and take people seriously. She warned that if we were not fair, transparent and respectful of what people had to say in our small organizations and in our political parties, why would anybody think we would govern in a serious representative democracy?
Doris, who was chair of Fair Vote Canada, often asked if my support for electoral reform was a career-limiting move.
Monique and my constituent, the late John Turner, were always in our corners as MPs to make sure our voices were heard. As we know, Monique and her posse of députés had been responsible for getting MPs offices in their ridings instead of just on Parliament Hill.
In 2006, I ran for the party leadership on a platform of the urgent need for party reform. I said that we had to do things differently. No longer could we act as though we were the natural governing party. I was proud when the late Star journalist, Jim Travers, characterized my candidacy as “the reformer”.
We need to remove the barriers to women in politics, the nomination processes and fundraising. We need to listen to the riding associations from coast to coast to coast, not just in those ridings that are considered to be winnable. Parliamentary reform will require MPs to take a less partisan approach, especially at parliamentary committees.
The analysts at the Library of Parliament do an amazing job. We need to do everything we can to have unanimous reports, as Bill Young did with us when we had the subcommittee on persons with disabilities. Unanimous reports inform government of a consensus reached because all the members listened to the witnesses and were able to distill recommendations that would chart a way forward.
Committees need to travel more. They need to get out across the country to be available to hear first-hand the points of view of the regions. In my experience, committee travel was where colleagues in Parliament got to know one another across party lines and find out that we actually liked one another, with maybe a few exceptions.
Committee travel is also where we hear the stories we need to know and harvest solutions to the problems Canadians face every day. We also must insist on proper disaggregated data in all formal policy-making exercises. Stories and data; we need them both in order to deliver in our work Canada's core value: fairness.
I hope that wherever the privilege of being an MP has taken me, I have been there to listen and learn. In order to do the best for Canada, MPs can not only represent their own ridings and understand their own regions; they also need to understand the challenges we face from coast to coast to coast. From Cape Spear to Haida Gwaii, and from Grise Fiord to Point Pelee, our complex federal system requires MPs to have a deep understanding of the needs and aspirations of every region of this country.
I used to think that inclusive decision-making was a feminist value. I later learned that it was actually indigenous. Haudenosaunee women advised the first wave of North American feminists about the principles of indigenous leadership of asking, not telling, and how to work in a circle where everyone gets to speak.
People may find that there is already a consensus or that people are asking for more information before they are prepared to weigh in on a decision.
I have learned so much from extraordinary indigenous women. My fondest memories are of berry picking with Mary Simon in Kuujjuaq, tea with Maria Campbell at Gabriel's Crossing in Saskatchewan and ceremony with Sylvia Maracle at her office in Toronto. So many first nations, Inuit and Métis leaders and young people have been there to teach and correct my mistakes.
I have described seven settler learnings, which could help all of us join on the journey of humility and reconciliation. What if we had listened to the first peoples and respected their imperative of protecting mother earth, thinking seven generations out? What if we understood the important teachings of the medicine wheel, focused on keeping people well, physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually, rather than relying on the medical repair shop model that I was taught in medical school? What if we were to practise the indigenous pedagogy of learning by doing, so that the land and the water themselves were the teachers of biology, chemistry and physics? What if we respected our elders instead of dismissing the elderly, if we listened to wise women and if we put children first in all decisions? What if we practised the indigenous leadership of asking, not telling? We can imagine these things.
The foundation of our democracy is that great people will run for public office. I have had the privilege of persuading many great women and indigenous people to run. Some were elected. All affirmed the importance of our democratic institutions by leaving jobs they loved and spending time away from their families in order to campaign for the opportunity to contribute to making this country even better than it is now.
I am a feminist and a politician. I look forward to a day where neither “feminist” nor “politician” is treated like a four-letter word. I am so proud to have served under this feminist Prime Minister, whose vision and values inspire us all. He has always been a leader, not a boss. He has always demonstrated that he knows that good ideas can come from many places. He is curious. He listens. He walks the talk of hope and hard work. He has always had my back. Every day, he shows us that better is indeed always possible.
In election campaigns, it has been important for me to explain that the Prime Minister is a true leader, not a boss. Leaders see themselves at the centre of a circle. Bosses see themselves at the top of a pyramid, barking orders, in their singular view, to those below. “Father knows best” has never worked. The Prime Minister has vision and values, and he can take risks. I am proud that we have been able to implement the ambitious risk-taking platform of 2015, even the legalization of cannabis.
We have changed history, but I am worried. Cynicism is at an all-time high. Voter turnout is down. The safety of parliamentarians is under threat. I truly believe that it is essential for us to re-engage in a meaningful way with citizens. Consultation that is shallow or not genuine is bad for democracy. It fuels cynicism. People are turned off by it, and then they tune out. People either believe that we get better policy when we include the views of those who will be affected by the policy, or they do not. If they do not, if they already think they know everything, then they should not waste people's time. Cynicism is also being fuelled by the ideology that proclaims that all government is bad and all politicians are bad or useless; it asks, “Why bother to vote at all?” It is wise to remember that the perma-mad people always vote.
We need to acknowledge that democracy is fragile. We should tackle, as a priority, the proliferation of mis- and disinformation, as well as the toxicity and anonymity of social media. There are ways to protect or immunize people from the onslaught of mis- and disinformation. People's ability to perform critical appraisal is heightened by greater civic literacy, health literacy, mental health literacy and digital literacy.
However, we must be concerned about more than mis- and disinformation. We cannot ignore that those who were once only keyboard warriors are now actually throwing stones and vandalizing, as well as threatening people in person. The safety of parliamentarians and those groups that are most often victims of hate and discrimination is at risk. At this dangerous time for democracy, it is important to remember the teaching of Ursula Franklin: Good government must be “fair, transparent and take people seriously.”
People are truly worried about so many aspects of our world today: the economy, the environment, their future and their children's well-being and opportunity. We need to let people know their concerns are being heard and taken into account, and we need to explain government decision-making in ways that will make sense.
As I look back, I remember how devastated I was in 2006 when we lost. We lost Kyoto, kids and Kelowna. The progress on climate change, child care and reconciliation were instantly rolled back. We had to fight back, and we did. I am proud now that Canada has made serious advances on climate change, child care and reconciliation.
As minister responsible for public health, the TRC calls to action, MMIWG and later mental health and addictions, I hope I have been able to help government bust through the silos and address complex issues across all government departments. I believe there is a role for government in people's lives. Our complex federal system requires real relationships among all orders of government, municipal, provincial and territorial, federal and indigenous, in order to deliver effective supports and services to the people who need them most.
In closing, I want to thank Barry Campbell for asking me to run in 1997. I want to thank the wind beneath my wings for 26 years, the EAs: Michael Spowart, Rob White and Tricia Geddes. They all came back to work in my office when I was minister of state for public health in 2003. Lynne Steele, Rick Theis, Sarah Welch and Carlene Campbell put together teams that shared our vision and values of accessibility and democracy between elections. They were always able to give fearless advice.
These are amazing teams, and I want to thank every single one of them. They continue to work on this truly important project of democracy. Thank yous are dangerous; I do not want to leave people out. Today I wanted to thank those who have travelled with me for almost a quarter century: Mary Eberts, Bill Young, Philippe Bussy, Michel Amar, Frank Graves, Jim Anderson, Robin Sears, Susan Delacourt, Don Lenihan, Anna and Paul Brehl, Constance Backhouse, Karen Breeck, Nora Spinks, Terry Hancock, Margo Greenwood, Will Falk, Stan Kutcher and, of course, Paul Martin and Bob Rae.
Today especially, I miss Bill Graham and Andy Scott.
I am so grateful to all my colleagues here. Many of my friends outside politics have paid me the biggest compliment, saying that being elected did not change me. I am still Carolyn, or Dr. Carolyn to some.
I want to thank my French teachers Géraldine, here in Ottawa, and Michel and Huguette from Logibec, in Quebec City, as well as my host family, René Courchesne and Claro Picard.
Their love for the beauty of the French language and culture was absolutely contagious.
Peter O'Brian is the best political spouse in the world. When graduating from college, he put “support a politician” on his bucket list. I am not sure he meant sharing these decades of ups and downs. Once, while canvassing, he asked at the door of a household in our neighbourhood if the resident wished to meet the candidate. He was told, “I would rather have my eyeballs taken out with fish hooks.” He quickly moved to become sign chair.
As all my colleagues in the House present and past know all too well, an MP's family has lots of these fish-hook moments over the years, of all different types, intensities and durations. I am grateful for the love of my sons, Jack and Ben, and the sacrifices they have made, happily and unhappily, to allow me to serve Canada as I have for over a quarter century.
For 26 years, I have been able to honestly reply to the critics with a question: “What country would you rather live in?” For 26 years, the answer has been the same, which is a moment of silence and then an acknowledgement that as much work as there still is to do, we are proud Canadians. I have never heard one word of other country envy.
I will miss my amazing parliamentary colleagues. I think we remember that moment in the House this fall when President Zelenskyy from Ukraine quoted Governor General Mary Simon with a word in Inuktitut: “ajuinnata”. As he said, it means “Don't give up. Stay strong against all odds”.
In these difficult times, I have every confidence that we will continue to fight together to make the best country in the world even better.
Merci. Meegwetch. Thank you. Ajuinnata.
