RUBINOFF

Things have changed.

The same community that made my grandfather cut his hair has elected me twice now to represent them at the federal level.

Your first job, as a Tim Hortons server at 15, showcased your leadership potential, along with a healthy dose of rebellion.

The manager, Carol, and me didn’t always get along.

I’m surprised you still remember her name.

How could I forget her? She was the one that saw me standing in line with my dad to get coffee and said I should apply. I took the opportunity, and haven’t stopped working since. Carol, if you’re reading this, I want to say a big thank you!

So what was the conflict?

I like to do things my way. If you say show up five minutes before your shift, I’m showing up 4.5 minutes before my shift. I’ll push it and I do like confrontation and having very uncomfortable conversations. Something that has served you well as a politician who champions contentious social issues.

It’s important that we have uncomfortable conversations. They don’t have to be confrontational, but peoples’ perspectives and lived realities matter and shouldn’t be dismissed even when they’re hard to hear. I’m not a Black woman. For me to actually listen attentively makes a massive difference.

I sense an uphill battle on this one.

Remember the types of conversations happening around same-sex marriage back in the day? It took decades of difficult conversations to finally make people understand that LGBTQ2 rights are human

rights — full stop.

I find it intriguing that someone walking into a Tim Hortons in 1995 would have had no way of knowing the Indo-Canadian teenager taking their coffee order would one day become a federal cabinet minister.

Taking that first job at 15 allowed me to interact with people from different walks of life. I really believe the “secret to success” was being a good listener. I was constantly surprised by how much I had in common with the customers and staff.

Jump 26 years and there’s another racialized 15-yearold serving coffee at Tims, looking to you for inspiration.

I want other women to want to do this. Right now I’m the only woman who’s been elected MP in Waterloo. I was the first Indo-Canadian woman appointed to cabinet. How do we, once we shatter these ceilings, make sure they’ll never come back? By doing exactly what you’re doing.

I had one kid say, “You’re a cabinet minister. I’m going to be Prime Minister!” and I was like, “Let me know how I can help.” I think that’s what it comes down to: making sure other people know these spaces might not always have included us, but we belong in them. Clearly, you have to run for prime minister.

I never planned to run for office, but now that I’m here, I would not want to be leader of the Liberal Party or Prime Minister of Canada. Why not?

I’m actually more of a backroom kind of person. My team will tell you I end up in the main inbox and do read emails and respond to phone calls directly. I’m still quite the “staffer” person. I haven’t changed who I am. Your mom wanted just two things for you: that you get married and that you not get involved in politics. And here you are: an unmarried federal politician.

I love kids — love, love, love. Growing up, every time someone would have a baby, my mom would laugh because I would make a straight line for the baby and take the baby and help feed the baby and put the baby to sleep. I would love to have a family. It just hasn’t been in cards yet. Whenever the time and place is meant to be, we’ll go with it. You describe yourself as “rough around the edges,” a rather harsh self-assessment, no?

I mean that I often get straight to the point. Whether I’m out speaking with people around town or in the House of Commons, I’m that same unfiltered Bardish people have come to know, though the longer I spend in the political arena, the more I learn that pausing and assessing the situation before responding is sometimes best, especially in the heat of the moment, when members of the opposition are heckling you. You got a taste of that during the WE charity scandal, where you found yourself fending off attacks about the Liberal’s since-aborted plan to implement a multimillion-dollar student-volunteer program.

It’s brutal, absolutely brutal, but it’s part of the job. I don’t take it personally. If someone just wants to yell at you, you just kind of have to let them do it. What was really disappointing for me was the wasted opportunity for youth and students who didn’t get to have access to that program.

You say you’re an introvert, but I gotta be honest: I don’t see it.

COVID hasn’t been that hard for me. I’m mentally in a good space.

But aren’t introverts people who avoid eye contact and prefer to be alone?

The last time I was by myself was when I got elected and had to go to Ottawa. I was alone

alone. But I don’t do a lot of things alone. I’m always having conversations or on the phone, connecting with people. I’ve gone on walks on my own, but oftentimes with music in my ears or having a conversation with somebody ... usually not alone.

I rest my case. Maybe you’re a family person?

I love family. Whenever people say, “Do you have kids?,” well, everyone’s kids are like my kids. Auntie Bardish is here. Even being elected, today I’ve got this new family. Everybody

is family to me.

The Bardish Bunch. Can I join?

There isn’t a club — but if there is, it’s not my club, it’s OUR club. Family for me is everything and my family is formed by love and not just by blood. I treat the people around me, who are closest, like my family, because they really are there for me when the going gets tough. It’s not that they only have my back — I have their back too. What a speech. Where do I sign up?

I always have more room, so you’re welcome. Any single time you want to hang out, let me know.