Jack Layton

I cannot believe it has been a year since Eric woke me up to tell me that Jack Layton had died. It was the last morning of three days in San Francisco. Our weather thus far had been beautiful, but that morning the fog that is famous for the City by the Bay had rolled in and sat heavily over the skyline.

Jack’s death wasn’t a surprise. But it was a shock.

The last time I had seen Jack was at the major rally in Montreal. It was an amazing day, full of hope and possibilities. Having lived through the years in which you could count active members of the NDP in Quebec on two hands, the large room full of chanting enthusiasts was nothing short of a miracle.

Then, while I was in Europe last year Eric told me via Skype that Jack had temporarily stepped down as leader while he dealt with a new challenge. At that point I was surprised as well as shocked. Despite some cynical speculation, we did not see this coming. There were no indications that led any of us to believe that Jack was anything less than the picture of health. He was vibrant, he was joyful, he was optimistic.

And so were we all.

I could not see his announcement to step down until I had returned to Canada. I think I knew then that it wasn’t going to end well. But Jack said he intended to return to the House in the fall, and who was I to doubt that?

I have seen Jack rise up against those who claimed that the NDP would never be a major player in Ottawa, I have seen him bring together a sometimes rowdy caucus and lead them through the wilderness, and I have seen him use his dynamic personality to bring people together through fundraising efforts that were nothing short of genius (that man could have auctioned off air if he had put his mind to it!). But that foggy morning in San Francisco proved that even Jack Layton, like all of us, is beholding to the limitations that are placed upon us by circumstance.

Or is it fate? Or destiny? Jack’s death brought upon a conversation about the civility of politics and the need to bring forth hope and optimism into our nation.

When Eric and I walked through Nathan Phillips Square, with all of those messages in chalk, I felt overwhelmed, but I also felt frustrated. Where was this sentiment when he was alive?  But politics is more than just personality and respect, and so it should be.

It took a long time, though, for the people of Canada to really get Jack. They were suspicious of him and his approach. I cannot count the times I have heard my friends and work colleagues saying “There’s just something about him I don’t trust...”, or calling him “Happy Jack” or comparing him to a used car salesman. They called him “Taliban Jack” until it was determined that maybe, just maybe, talking to your foe may be an actual alternative to just trying to kill him.

Politics have made us all cynical, and when Jack came along with his bicycle, and wind power, and positive attitude many just did not know what to do with him. Somewhere along the way we forgot that some politicians, many actually, are sincere in their efforts and work very hard for their constituents.

I know that some of you are reading this and recognising that my personal attachment and my political stripes inform my opinion of Jack Layton. This is true and I not only do not deny it I accept it and own it.

But don’t misunderstand me, I do not claim to know Jack intimately. Nor do I hold him up as some mythical being, perfect in stature and pure in action. He was a man with faults and idiosyncrasies like all of us. In truth, there were times when he drove me nuts.

But I am very grateful for having had him in my life. And in the life of my country.

He made me realise that politics is more than policy and ideas and government. When he made his first speech as leader it really was the first time I ever felt called into action by a politician. He challenged me to recognise that politics is beyond opinion. It is about action, about bringing communities together, and it is about faith.

Yes. Faith.

Faith that what you do today will matter tomorrow. When Jack first said he was applying for the job of Prime Minister those many years ago he meant it. People laughed at first, but then they, too, realised that he meant it. This faith that Jack taught me informs my teaching every single day. It brings me hope when I am most frustrated with my job. I share this faith with others when I involve myself with projects like the Rainbow Youth Forum. This has allowed me to work with and connect with some amazing people whom I now love.

Politics, Jack taught me, is about the life you lead. At our wedding he toasted Eric and I and gave us the gift of a sealed copy of Canada’s Marriage Act along with a letter that read, in part, “Nothing is as personal as the love between two people. Nothing is as political as the laws that govern our society. Nothing is as courageous as forming a new chapter in the life of a country or a couple.”

Politics is personal. The personal is political.

Finally, I am grateful for Jack because he has been very instrumental in other elements of my life. When he hired Eric as what was then called the Federal Secretary I was able to observe a world that I would never have had the chance to see. I met some amazing people and followed along on some great events. Also, the financial stability that this gave us helped us buy our dream home (often fondly referred to by us as “The House That Jack Built”).  Eric’s work with the NDP had also given us lifelong friendships that we cherish.

We lost a great deal when Jack left us, but we didn’t lose everything. He leaves behind a strong party, a sense of civility and hope, and a reminder that we can be a part of the destiny of this great country. “Never let them tell you it can’t be done!” he reminded us over and over again.

After the state funeral and official evening event, Eric and I walked through the streets of Toronto and took photos of the CN Tower bathed in orange light as a tribute to Jack. We walked by the bike racks that Jack designed and recalled our first ever experience with Jack Layton. It was in the late 1980s and we were trying to get Art Eggleton, Mayor of Toronto at the time, to declare Gay Pride Day. We lost that day. It wasn’t the first time and it wouldn’t be the last. Jack walked up to our group and told us he was sorry it didn’t happen. “But don’t worry,” he smiled as he tapped his hand on the railing between the public seating and the council desk “we’ll get it done eventually. Soon.”

And we believed him.

“My friends, love is better than anger. Hope is better than fear. Optimism is better than despair. So let us be loving, hopeful and optimistic. And we’ll change the world.”

                                                                                                                        - Jack Layton