In 2022, I put my name on the provincial ballot as a candidate. Driven by the opportunity to reimagine and rebuild our infrastructure—particularly social infrastructure and housing—I campaigned in the condo-dense riding of Spadina Fort-York in Toronto.
I knew this endeavor wasn’t a solo task; running for office requires a team. It’s not just about individual ambition—it’s about community-driven change, and that requires the support of a team committed to the idea that politics can shape our communities for the better.
Over the years, I’ve had the privilege of speaking with hundreds of women involved in political programs like McGill’s Women in House, Toronto Metropolitan University’s Women in the House, and the Daughters of the Vote program. These conversations have been filled with curiosity about how politics can be a tool for positive change—both for the people and communities we serve. But the questions they pose are often the same: How can I do this? What’s at risk for me and my family? Can I return to my career after stepping into a partisan role? As someone who has been politically adjacent for years, I felt it would be hypocritical to encourage others, especially those I admire, to run without doing so myself.
One of the most rewarding aspects of my campaign was the opportunity to connect with other women running for office, sharing the personal and professional challenges of the campaign trail. The pandemic and the ongoing crises made the campaign even more difficult—many voters we spoke with were hurting, angry, and scared about the future.
Yet the most heartbreaking sentiment I encountered was the belief that political leadership no longer mattered. Many people felt that all politicians were the same—self-interested and disconnected from the struggles of everyday life.
But that sentiment overlooks a critical truth: most candidates, regardless of political affiliation, are driven by a sense of purpose. This is especially true for women and gender-diverse candidates. Whether advocating for better health care, education, or stronger social programs, these candidates are often motivated by a deep passion for serving their communities.
Running for office requires hunger and conviction. It’s not a position one takes up lightly.
In 2024, we saw significant strides in democratic participation, particularly in Canada. British Columbia’s legislature now has more than 40 per cent women, reflecting the broader trend of more diverse and inclusive representation.
These gains didn’t happen by accident. They are the result of years of community organizing, mentorship, and tireless advocacy by those who have been pushing for change from the inside and out. And despite the challenges faced by women and gender-diverse candidates, many leave the campaign trail with a deeper understanding of their ridings and a renewed perspective on the issues that matter most to the people they hope to represent.
In 2025, I hope Canadians will rise to the occasion. We are facing difficult political choices, and after the fatigue of the pandemic and ongoing crises, it’s easy to feel disillusioned. But we must break through our systems with new models of engagement and participation. At the heart of strong democracies are connected communities—where physical and social resources work in harmony. To make this happen, we need meaningful conversations, debate, and organizing that reflect our shared commitment to a better future.
Democracy requires more than a vote; it requires active engagement in the communities we care about.
As we move forward, it’s vital that political power continues to evolve. Our country’s leadership must better reflect the diverse lives of all Canadians—especially those voices that have been historically excluded from our political institutions. We need policies that meet the challenges of today and tomorrow; and leadership that represents a truly inclusive and reflective Canada.
Let’s do this, Canada.