Mr. Speaker, I do not get many opportunities to rise in the House these days, but this will be the last time. Although I am officially leaving the party in January, not today, this is a deeply emotional moment for me as I rise to deliver my last speech in the House.
I remember my maiden speech. It was on October 13, 2004. I was seated at the back, over there. I was up against the curtains. I was a bit thinner, my hair was a bit darker and I was very nervous. That was a little over 20 years ago. That maiden speech was the start of a great adventure, but at the same time, it was the end of the long journey that led to me becoming an MP.
I want to let you in on a secret, Mr. Speaker, but it has to stay between us. I have politics in my blood. It is in my DNA. I must say that my father is partly to blame for that. I have talked about it in the House before. In Argentina, my father ran for governor in our province. He opposed the military-controlled government. He was also a lawyer for political prisoners, who, most of the time, were simply student leaders or mothers of missing children who were standing up to the government. He was poisoned and he was tortured on several occasions. One night, while the whole family was sleeping, two bombs went off in our home. We were all injured, my parents, my sisters and me. We survived, but we all knew that it was just a matter of time before we were killed, so we left Argentina. By some miracle, we managed to escape.
We arrived in Quebec, in Canada. No one in the family spoke a word of English or French. We lost everything when we fled Argentina. We had nothing when we arrived here. We left with just a few suitcases for two parents and three children. In the beginning, my parents cleaned houses, mostly in Outremont. I went with them to help. We were regulars at the food bank and the Salvation Army. I remember wandering the aisles picking things out and buying them with very little money.
Through hard work and perseverance, my parents became professors. They both went back to school. My father got a PhD. They became professors at the Université de Sherbrooke and stayed there for over 20 years. I cannot tell you enough what great role models they were for me. We know that things are not easy, but they are always possible in our society, when a person puts their heart into something, works hard and makes an effort. They deserve credit for that, but it is also thanks to the helping hand offered by Quebeckers, who gave us a warm welcome, that we were able to heal our wounds and get back on our feet.
I remember a conversation I had with my father right after we got here. He had survived torture and bombing. He had lost friends. He looked at me and said, “son, Canada is a welcoming country, a land of opportunity, and you can do anything you want here, but do not go into politics”. That time, I did not listen to him. However, on another occasion, he said, “human beings do not have a perfect set of tools to change the world and improve society, but the best tool they have right now is politics”. That time, I did listen to him.
I first became involved in politics as a student leader in high school and then in college and university. My commitment really deepened when I started campaigning with the young Liberals in the Quebec Liberal Party. It was a fascinating time. Several of my colleagues from the Bloc Québécois and from all over—I am thinking of one of my Conservative colleagues—were there. That was shortly after the Meech Lake accord failed. In my opinion, it was a huge mistake to reject that agreement. It was the early nineties, and we had the Allaire report, the Bélanger‑Campeau Commission, the Charlottetown accord referendum and the 1995 referendum on Quebec sovereignty. I was a spokesperson for both referendums. The younger set were not very supportive of the Quebec sovereignty referendum. I remember, because I gave speeches in Saint‑Hyacinthe, Chicoutimi, Sherbrooke, Saint‑Jérôme, pretty much everywhere. It was a very lively and exciting time, and I will never forget it.
Over time, I continued to be active in politics, at both the provincial and federal levels. I had been on the scene for a long time when I stood for election in Honoré-Mercier in 2004. I thought I had it made. I thought I knew what politics was and believed I had been doing it for a long time. However, when I saw my face plastered on a pole for the first time, I froze and realized it was true. I know everyone here felt that way. I know I did. People feel it the first time they see their face on a poster, because it changes absolutely everything. That is when I realized that even though I had been politically active, I still had a lot to learn. I certainly can say I have learned a lot.
I want to thank the man who gave me that first chance, Paul Martin. I want to thank him for trusting me and believing in me. Without Mr. Martin, I would never have been here.
One thing I am most proud of is the passage of my private member's bill, Bill C‑288 , almost 20 years ago. The law required the government of the day, the Harper government, to report on its efforts to reach the Kyoto targets.