Thank you.
I don't have a word written down, because I've lived it for the last three and a half years.
I came into politics on the cusp of my 50th birthday. I had wanted to put my name on a ballot since the age of eight. At the age of eight, I wrote then-minister Pierre Elliot Trudeau to complain about the seal hunt. About three weeks later, I received a letter back, in my eight-year-old mind from him personally, but we all know it was from a staffer. However, at that point in time, I made a decision that some day, in some way, shape, or form, I was going to run politically. I didn't know what level of government it was going to be. I knew it was going to be more than the head girl status that I achieved at age 15.
I grew up and I went on and became a single mom for nine years, raising my son on income assistance while attending university: first, Mount Saint Vincent University, and then my master's at Acadia University. Both of those degrees were in political science because I still had that dream.
Then I moved on to the women's community and had a great career assisting women leaving domestic violence, helping young children who were witnesses to violence in the home, and gaining a reputation nationally through the Donner Foundation for my work in the non-profit sector.
At age 49, I ran for politics. I didn't know anyone in the riding association. I had not been approached. I had been sort of vetted by a couple of colleagues in the Liberal Party of Nova Scotia who were elected women at that time, two of the elected women in that party. I was mentored. I made a point of going out and speaking to Mary Clancy, and to Diana Whalen and Kelly Regan, and just getting their experiences. I tell you, the one that scared me the most, of course, was Mary's. Whether or not you agree with her politics, it was the first indication of what I might come up against as a woman in politics.
I won the nomination on February 2, 2012, and ran a campaign in September 2013. The first hint of what my life might be like if I won was founded on the campaign trail, because I had done tremendous work before that and I put it in my bio, as every one of us here has. I put in one sentence that caught the attention of someone in my riding. That sentence said, “married to Annette, mother of an adult son Taylor, and mother of five adopted cats”. It wasn't the cats and it wasn't Taylor that brought the ire of the piece of hate mail to my desk as a candidate in 2013, it was the fact that I was married to Annette.
I received a piece of mail, beautifully written in what I assumed was a feminine font but I can't be sure, and she or he told me quite clearly, “You had my vote until I read that sentence.” I took that piece of hate mail, which I had never really experienced before, although I certainly knew that homophobia was out there, and I did a positive tweet that night addressing it. Huffington Post picked it up, and I was able to turn something very negative into something very positive.
The night before October 8, 2013, I went to bed as a fine, upstanding leader in my community, and on October 8, 2013, went to bed as someone who was in it for myself, a thief, not there for the people. Overnight it changed. I wasn't the only one to experience it, but then I got appointed to a very volatile portfolio: community services. Any community services minister across Canada will tell you it is a very volatile portfolio, because you're dealing very intimately with people when they are at the very worst time of their lives. As someone who had taken advantages of the services of the department that I then led, the expectations for me were very high.
The sexism, misogyny, and homophobia that ensued over the months after coming into office took a tremendous toll on me. It took a tremendous toll on my partner and my son. My son at that time was 23. The first negative tweet that he saw, he took himself off social media, and then he stayed off and has stayed off because it still continues to this day. I will once in a while get a troll, but certainly not in the way it was.
I have been very vocal over the last three and a half or four years about what I've faced in homophobia, on which I took a very public stand in July 2015. I went very public on the six o'clock news about what I as a cabinet minister was experiencing. I can only imagine what's happening in our streets and our rural areas of Nova Scotia, if I was subjected to this. I was getting weekly calls in my constituency office, in my caucus office, and in my department office. The misogyny and the words that were directed at me....
Then you start to see it coming out in the Rachel Notleys of the world, in Kathleen Wynne, in Cathy Bennett, Rochelle Squires, in Saskatchewan. We all started talking to each other and saying we needed to tell our stories. So we did, and we started.
It's been well documented from one end of the country to the other, the cyber-bullying and the violence against women in the form of social media that has taken place in this country. It was to the point where, as a female minister, I was reticent in telling younger women to run for office. I quickly, thankfully, got over that, and just have said, “Eyes wide open, always. Do not ever let anyone tell you to get a thick skin, because that is condoning violence against women. The minute those attacks do not affect you in any way, shape, or form is the day to walk away from politics. It's as simple as that.”
I was not re-elected in May of 2017, but I'm free of the political and partisan chains that I had. I do come out and talk about my experiences, and in some way, shape, or form hope that it helps the next generation of women politicians behind me.