Lesson: It is important to back up beliefs with action. That means supporting women and finding women who will support you.
I have always tried to campaign for a woman candidate or a woman politician whenever possible. I spent the last few weeks of the 1987 general campaign in the riding of Mississauga South with Claudette MacKay-Lassonde, an engineer and the first female president of the Association of Professional Engineers of Ontario. The win was a long shot, but I nonetheless asked to work with such an amazing female candidate. The night David Peterson swept to a large majority, I stood in one of the few ridings we did not capture. We lost to Conservative incumbent Margaret Marland in a nasty fight, as Margaret did not take well to an upstart woman challenging her on several levels. We came within 599 votes.
It did not matter to me that we lost. I had been honoured to be part of the campaign, and I did all I could to get a woman elected. I took consolation in three things: David Peterson had led us to a majority government; the victor in this riding might not be a Liberal, but she was a woman; and finally, the exchange I got to witness between Claudette and Margaret on election night.
Claudette was gracious in her loss but given the nastiness, she went down swinging. At that time, the tradition was for the losing politician to show up at the headquarters of the winner to concede the election in person. It was a brutal practice but in some ways, it made sense in a day when politics was more genteel and less partisan.
The timing had been pre-arranged. When we got to the Conservative headquarters, I went in ahead to make sure things were ready to go. The atmosphere was ugly, given the big loss the Tories had suffered provincially. I was told we would have to wait, as Margaret had not yet arrived. Claudette bristled but agreed to give it a bit of time. After twenty minutes, we were about to leave when a large vehicle swerved alongside and parked in front of us. Margaret, in a floor-length, shimmery green gown, got out of the car. I sensed trouble.
Without a word, Claudette jumped out of our vehicle and strode purposefully toward Margaret. Caught off guard, I was a few seconds behind Claudette and reached them just as the handshake happened. As I registered the shock on Margaret’s face, Claudette pivoted and moved quickly past me, back to our car. In asking her what she’d said to Margaret to cause that reaction, I truly feared the answer would be “fuck off.” Instead, she had said, “You have won but I have lost nothing.” Certainly not a traditional concession remark, but I know Claudette meant that losing the campaign did not mean defeat to her. She’d conceded nothing. To this day I carry the immense sense of pride I felt in this woman who never backed down.
In some ways, Claudette captured the attitude that should be adopted by every woman who runs. Regardless of whether you win or lose, you gain much simply by running. Your reputation is enhanced, not diminished. If you have given it your all, you have lost nothing. In fact, you will have gained an immense amount.
Lesson: Real change demands women in power at all levels, but progress has been extremely slow. It must be a priority, even when it isn’t easy, to encourage women to take the leap.
Running for a nomination myself so early in my career influenced my many years of recruiting candidates. I could talk about what it was like to run and lose. As it had happened to me, it made it easier to explain that sometimes the Centre is going to look elsewhere for their preferred candidate. And at the end of day, it is the long game that is important in politics. I’d always understood that process for recruiting women was not going to be the same as the way we recruited men.
Recruiting women wasn’t always the priority. When I first got involved provincially, we were in opposition and it was critical to recruit someone who could win the riding. In some cases that meant a local, middle-aged male politician with a history of electoral success was going to be preferred over a woman who was a social advocate with a strong community base.
In my early days of finding candidates, the mid-1980s, people felt politics was too rough and demanding for a woman. As importantly, women would be judged for not staying home with their children, spending several days of each week out of town. If a woman was single, she was either too young or possibly too “odd” in that voters would wonder why she was a “spinster,” having not found a husband. If divorced, there must be something wrong with her, or she should be spending her time looking for a new husband.
Traditional male attitudes were only part of the problem. Often the biggest hurdle was convincing a woman to believe she should run, or that she could win. While men generally believe they have the needed experience and skills to be a successful politician, it was a tough sell when recruiting women. The belief that a male was more competent or more acceptable to the electorate was a common misconception. Even a woman confident enough to believe she was the best option would often feel the social pressure of the impact on her family. I rarely met a male candidate—at least not until much later in my career—who worried about that reality.
To this day, women ask many more questions about the role and the requirements to succeed. Women respond better when they understand the different elements that form life as a politician. They often love the concept of constituency work, as many are community activists at some level; the idea of having the tools to truly make a difference in a person’s life is a powerful motivator.
Women ask what it will take to do a good job. How will they learn enough to contribute effectively? How will they learn about the issues, and how will they know how to vote on policy? If they have no knowledge of partisan politics, there will be many more questions about the way parties operate.
Every person who has recruited a candidate can probably share a story about meeting a couple where the husband was the potential candidate. After a few minutes, it becomes clear the woman would be the much stronger option and do a better job, for the right reasons. Many men have been motivated by the power, ego and prestige of the role. For women, it was almost always about the desire to advance an issue important to them or to their communities. I know many men who run because they want to make a difference—but in my experience it is the primary reason for women and for men it is lower on the list.
Only recently has the tide turned sufficiently to truly see more women running, supported by their spouses and families. There are not enough women elected or supported by women to make the difference in bringing fundamental change to the way politics is done and the way government operates, from within. But we are on our way.
Chapter 3 Never Accept That It Can’t Be Done
“Luck means the hardships you have not hesitated to endure; the long nights you have devoted to your work. Luck means the appointments you have never failed to keep, the airplanes you never failed to catch.”
– Margaret Clement
I had many role models during my many years working at Queen’s Park but four women in particular had formidable impact on me and remain in my life to this day.
Heather Peterson was the only senior woman on staff with David Peterson. I turned to her often for advice and she’d help me work through the disappointments and keep going. I was in awe of this capable woman who understood her mandate to diversify the people who work in politics and executed this endgame against significant odds.
Kathy Robinson is the most disciplined and organized person I’ve likely ever known. We were Liberals together in the 1980s, and I reported to her when she was campaign chair in 1990. There was never any question who held the authority or how decisions were to be made. I turned to her often throughout my life when trouble loomed.
Deb Matthews—whom I admired from afar when she co-chaired the 1987 Peterson campaign—and I got to know each other best in the 1992 leadership contest when we both supported Lyn McLeod. Deb’s strength was understanding the big picture and building teams. She had a firm but kind guiding hand and never hesitated to speak out when she saw issues and problems.
Terrie O’Leary was a senior organizer in the 1990 Paul Martin federal leadership campaign (later becoming his chief of staff when he was appointed minister of finance). No matter when you phoned the office, Terrie was reachable. She was