Saturday, February 23, 2019

Remembering Paul Dewar

In late 2010 I was finishing my M.A. in International Development at Dalhousie and I was about to lose my job at Public Safety. Although my student position had gone well, a hiring freeze had been imposed on the department and there was no position for me to be bridged into. Not sure what to do next I sought advice from nearly anyone who would talk to me, including my older room mate's friend, who suggested I might try volunteering for a member of Parliament. She put me in touch with one of her friends who was working for the All-Party Parliamentary Committee on the Prevention of Genocide, based in Paul Dewar's office while I reached out to the MP from the last riding I had voted in Megan Leslie. Both offices took me on as a volunteer. 

I gained a lot of experience in Megan's office, including how to run the public campaign for an MP's private members bill, but it was Paul's critic area, foreign affairs, which really drew me in. I worked with his staff to help organize a panel event for the first National Day of Action and Remembrance for the Crime of Genocide. Soon after the event took place the 2011 election was called and I dedicated the time I had spent at Parliament volunteering on Paul's campaign. I watched the NDP gain official opposition status from his victory party. 

I spent the following two years mostly outside of Ottawa, working with conflict-affected communities in Northern Uganda and with Government Assisted Refugees in Kitchener. 

In April 2013 my contract had come to an end in Kitchener and I was waiting for responses to my Ph.D. applications. Feeling a little lost again, my then room mate Brock suggested that we start something in the community. Within a couple of days Paul presented Bill C-486 the Conflict Minerals Act in the House of Commons for the first time, which was an invitation to engage Canadians on the conflict in the Congo, something I cared deeply about. The KW Just Minerals Campaign was born. My room mate and I spent the summer working with a small group of volunteers from the local NDP riding association and Engineers Without Borders collecting petition signatures to support C-486 and holding public education events about conflict minerals. It was a wonderful way to get to know the community that I was living in. 

In the autumn I returned to Ottawa to start my Ph.D. I reconnected with Paul's office, wondering if I might be able to support the national campaign. That's when they told me that I could run it. I was beyond excited, dedicating much of my time away from my Ph.D. engaging stakeholders, running a social media campaign, producing communication materials and running events. Even after the Bill failed to pass second reading I continued to manage the campaign from his office and sought to maintain momentum among the large group of stakeholders until the next election.

Like in 2011, in 2015 I spent much of my free time volunteering on Paul's election campaign, but it ended differently this time. Instead of attending a victory party, I held a sobbing 19 year old boy sobbing in my arms at a polling station. Paul had lost. 

What's remarkable about this story, is that it all happened before I was 30. Paul and his staff gave me the space to develop event planning and canvassing skills and then later invited me to manage a national advocacy campaign before I was 30. 

Two things convinced me that Paul Dewar was worth his weight in gold, and all of the hours that I dedicated to he and his office over the year. The first was that he always had time for me. Whenever we were in the office together, he was keen to know how things were going with my Ph.D. and would offer advice or stories related to international development or the campaign, and his actions showed me over and over again that he believed in me. The second was his persistent optimism and commitment to social justice. I recall that even after Bill C-486 was defeated that he stoically into the distance and quoted Bruce Cockburn saying that "you've got to  kick at the darkness 'til it bleeds daylight" and that's what he did. After the 2015 election he continued to dedicate himself to social justice issues in Ottawa and abroad. 

Paul and I started to reconnect at community events after I came back from my second Congo trip in autumn 2017. As was always my experience, the first time we saw each other he immediately wanted to catch up and we did. 

When I learned about Paul's diagnosis I was one of the hundreds of people who sent him cards. My card may have stood out a little bit though because it confided that I too had, had brain surgery, as a child, and I wanted him to know that he could get through it. 

I wrote that card with some difficulty, since up until that point I rarely shared that information with anyone. 

I hadn't heard back from Paul when it became public that his cancer was terminal. I attended the launch of his legacy initiative Youth Action Now. When Paul saw me, he turned away from the group of people surrounding him and embraced me. "Thank you" he said over and over again. He told me that my card had arrived at a low point after his surgery, when he wasn't sure he would make it, and that my card had given him hope. 

In sharing this moment and gratitude with me, he gave me one final gift. The courage to share this part of my own story a little bit more openly, knowing that I could be loved and accepted anyway. 

There is something very powerful about believing in each other, and I know that, that is what Paul fostered in all of his relationships. It's hard to imagine where I would be today without the opportunities that working with Paul gave me. 

Goodbye Paul, thank you for everything. 

If you want to support Paul's legacy campaign, which promotes the leadership of youth (like me!) in social justice leadership you can donate here: http://youthactionnow.ca/donate/

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