To the member across from Mississauga–Lakeshore, thank you for your presentation. I’m just going to ask you about the 407.

Obviously, part of the term sheet in the original agreement between the provincial government and the 407 operator was to maintain a certain amount of vehicles on that highway to reduce the congestion on the 401, and that meant that the operator had to set the tolls at a particular price. It couldn’t be too high, otherwise you would see a drop in vehicle use, and of course we saw that the tolls were too high, and the vehicles came off the 407.

Your government, in 2021, waived a billion dollars of congestion penalties from the 407 for-profit operator. Do you have any regrets about waiving that billion dollars now that we’re facing a $9.8-billion deficit?

To the member from Mississauga–Lakeshore: Thank you for your presentation.

I mentioned that in 1998, then-Premier Mike Harris forced six municipalities and the city of Toronto—which included Scarborough, York, Etobicoke, East York and North York—into an amalgamated city. This city is now three million people in size, with almost $400 billion of GDP. When I compare that to what Mississauga is—it’s about 800,000 people, I believe, by 2019 numbers, and about $97 billion in GDP. I also recognize that we were not necessarily consulted, and neither were any of those five other municipalities, when the amalgamation happened.

Because dissolution was not sought by Brampton or Caledon, how can your government ensure that this dissolution will benefit all three local municipalities?

Thank you very much. Aanii. Boozhoo. Sekoh.

It is an honour to rise today to give my inaugural speech as the new member of provincial Parliament for Toronto Centre.

I want to begin by honouring the long and ongoing Indigenous histories of this land. We owe our gratitude to the Haudenosaunee, the Anishinaabe, the Huron-Wendat, the Métis and, most recently, the Mississaugas of the Credit River for the work they have done and continue to do in taking care of the land and all the water around us.

Congratulations to the Speaker on his re-election to the esteemed post and to all members for their election win. I look forward to getting to know each and every single member and to finding ways to work together for the people of Toronto Centre, your communities and Ontario.

I especially want to honour my predecessor, Suze Morrison, who made history as the first woman of Indigenous ancestry elected to Queen’s Park in Toronto Centre, a bold and diverse community with an appetite for making history—a record this riding lived up to this June when I was elected as the first member of provincial Parliament who uses they/them pronouns.

Speaking of that election, I want to thank my family, friends, the campaign team, volunteers and the Toronto Centre NDP riding association. I did not arrive at Queen’s Park without their tireless help. I will never ever squander their trust and will work hard every single day to re-earn their support.

I also want to thank the best campaign team any candidate could ask for. My gratitude goes out to my campaign managers, Duncan Salvain and Lisa Brody Hoffman, and my core team who filled the campaign office with great spirits, high fives, fist bumps and big hugs. A shout-out to them, because without their hard work I would not be standing on the floor here today. I want to say thank you to Jeff Slater, Emma Beattie, Tyler Johnson, Keaton Kwok, Jed Sears, Vienna O’Shea, Dani Michie, Jocelyn Courneya, Julianna Notten, Ibna Chowdhury, Ben Donato-Woodger and Sasha Kane. I also want to say thank you to Brian Chang, who is a former NDP federal candidate in the riding. Thank you to all of you from the bottom of my heart.

Every member knows that we cannot serve in this House unless our own house is in order. To that effect, I am grateful and blessed to have the remarkable support of my family. My mother takes care of my son every single day. It is her seventh grandchild. Without grandma Mee Ling Wong, I couldn’t do this work. The same goes for grandma Maggie Byckalo, grandpa William Byckalo and grandpa Tak Kwan Wong, who hold us safely in their thoughts and hearts every single day.

To my energetic preschooler and my beloved son: I have already missed too many dinners, weekends and weeknights with you, especially after mama’s municipal ward doubled in size. One day, I hope you will forgive me and understand that I am doing this work for you, your friends, your peers and future generations. Every moment that I am not serving in this House and serving the public, I am committed to you. I pledge to be the best parent I can possibly be.

To my extraordinary wife and best friend, Farrah Khan: I love you. I owe you everything. When I co-founded Asian Canadians for Equal Marriage to promote racial justice, social inclusion and same-sex marriage, I did not think I would personally get married. I wasn’t the marrying type. That all changed with Farrah. Getting married to Farrah in front of our families and community at The 519 community centre was the greatest joy of my life. It is also a very proud moment.

Queer love and queer families are special. Many of us fought for—we fight for the right to be our authentic selves. We overcome homophobia and transphobia every single day. Nothing about queer love is ordinary. We cannot take that for granted. I will rise up again and again in the streets, in the courtrooms, in the boardrooms and in the house and halls of government to defend queer rights, trans rights, women’s rights and all that falls under the umbrella of human rights.

My public service is enabled because of Farrah. Without her tremendous sacrifices, I would not be standing here today. To all the spouses, to all the life partners, to all the co-parents and caregivers out there, we all owe you our debt of thanks.

The past June’s election victory was my fourth. I want to be able to share with you why I am here at Queen’s Park today and why I want to continue to serve our people of Toronto Centre. Like many international downtowns, Toronto Centre is a coin with two sides. The city’s postcard skyline will tell a story of Fortune 500 companies with their North American and international headquarters based here, residential skyscrapers with panoramic views; incubators, accelerators and leading green, tech and innovation companies all on the course to redefine every day as we know it.

Turn that coin, and the other side of Toronto Centre, you see something different. Against the backdrop of luxury condominiums, multi-million dollar heritage homes, five-star hotels and the financial district, there is another story. This is the story of Toronto’s downtown east. The country’s largest social housing project in Regent Park, covering 69 acres, is undergoing transformational revitalization. Its success will be tied to the partnership of three orders of government coming together to champion it.

The other side of the story also reveals a story that is not exclusive to Toronto Centre: poverty, runaway inflation, stalled construction sites, racism, gender discrimination, violence, failing infrastructure, negligent and predatory landlords—not to mention exploitive bosses. Compound that with the housing, health care, mental health and opioid crises, and the social safety net becomes nearly unrepairable if immediate and effective government action is not taken. This is why I am here today. I want to bring meaningful change.

My story in Canada began like so many others. My mother and father uprooted their family when they left their crowded and unsafe social housing apartment in Hong Kong with a couple of hundred dollars in their pocket, a pair of suitcases and their children in tow. Mom and Dad had very little access to education and grew up in extreme poverty watching their parents, my popo and gung gung, struggle to rebuild their lives after nearly four years of the Japanese occupation of Hong Kong, during which time all trade and economic activities were strictly regulated by the Japanese authorities who took over factories and banks, and outlawed the Hong Kong dollar.

The Japanese established a military government and puppet councils. They stripped residents of their civil liberties and freedom of movement. Internment camps and prisoner-of-war camps were set up while famine, malnutrition and illness set in. Families, including my own, watched their loved ones starve to death; a tragedy that befell my grandfather’s first wife and two daughters. Hong Kong elders recall many painful stories of torture and rape.

My parents came to Canada like so many other immigrants, hoping to seek out a better life and to plant roots so that the next generation can reach what they could not. This included a safe and affordable home that they can call their own. We moved into Regent Park. In so many ways, it was familiar. We moved into an already crowded apartment with another immigrant family. We lived there with seven people, and we shared one bathroom. My parents still told me we had nothing to complain about; it was still better than what they had in Hong Kong.

My parents were not just working class; they were poor, and every Canadian penny that they earned they earned with sweat and occasional tears. Loneliness and isolation set in, and the joy that can only come from being a part of a large extended family had gone.

Life in our adopted home was a different type of struggle, especially because English was our second language. I learned to speak English at Sprucecourt Public School by taking out as many books as my little hands could carry. I was a very shy child and was not confident in speaking in my new language.

My father was a chef. He worked in two of the biggest hotels in Toronto. My mother became a factory worker who worked 12 hours a day making garments for some of Canada’s largest fashion retailers for very little money. They both worked many hours, and as soon as they came home, they continued to work. They worked by creating additional garment pieces in the basement. As children, we learned to fall asleep to the rumbling sounds of old sewing machines and a cranky furnace.

Immigrant families are tight-knit. We cling to each other out of love and necessity. In so many ways, it’s family that actually protects us and gives us a sense of belonging. And what happened next was scary. All of this made things harder when I came out of the closet, when I told my parents I was gay. I was 16 years old, and I felt like a fish out of water. Not being my authentic self was literally killing me. Being gay or transgendered or non-binary are not lifestyle choices; it’s just who some of us are. Like so many teenagers and young adults coming out for the first time, I was unprepared for what was to happen next. There were no television shows, celebrity role models or influencers to guide the pathway. I was all alone and struggling to find a way out of an unbearable closet.

My parents are the most kind-hearted people I know. They were extremely disappointed that their hard work and personal sacrifices to bring their young family to Canada all seemed in vain when their eldest child came out of the closet. Their dreams for me obtaining a better life over the one that they fled evaporated as soon as I came out. My parents reacted with fear. They were scared for my personal safety and emotional well-being. They feared the judgment of the community and, worse, the religious zealots. They were further outraged that I would bring shame to the family when my dirty little secret became a secret no more.

Despite all my parents’ fears about strangers and community members hurting me because of my sexual orientation or gender identity, they ended up inflicting the most harm on me by rejecting me when I was most vulnerable. My parents kicked me out after I came out to them. They were consumed with confusion, anger and fear that they let their first born go. As one would imagine, a 16-year-old without the protection of a family and a safe home would not be prepared for the life of a big city. I had no money of my own. I had no place to go that was safe. My high school guidance counsellor eventually got me access to student welfare. It enabled me to rent a room, sharing a small bathroom and an equally small kitchen with other kids going through their own family troubles. It wasn’t easy for me as I desperately tried to make sense of what I needed to do next in order for me to survive and finish high school.

Again, my story is not unique, as millions of kids coming out of the closet around the world can attest. The hardship that I experienced scarred me for life. It’s also the reason why I work so hard so that others may not feel lost as a newcomer to Canada.

The great thing about being a human being is that we can evolve. Our hearts and minds can change. We can do better, and this is exactly what my parents and I did. We put in the emotional labour to rebuild our relationship that was torn apart because of ignorance and bigotry. We moved towards each other in a deep embrace of love, acceptance and forgiveness. We listened to each other actively with our ears and our hearts. Today, my parents are my closest advisers, and they love me unconditionally. Today, they are the best grandparents to my son and amazing parents-in-law to my wife. They are truly proud of me, and they have become true 2SLGBTQI allies. My parents supported my efforts to legalize same-sex marriage in Canada. Both my parents walked me down the aisle when I married Farrah. They show up to Pride every single year in Toronto to cheer me on annually under the sweltering June sun.

I’ve learned so much from my parents and still do. They are proud Canadians of Chinese heritage, and that is who I am. They taught me to never turn my back on my heritage and my ancestors. My parents remind me to speak up for who cannot. I’m told to use my voice, my intelligence, my heart and my courage to serve the community and my country.

Even before I became an elected official, I first learned that words were important and what we say as lawmakers even more so. Seventeen years ago, I had the privilege of sitting in the House of Commons with then-Senator Nancy Ruth to listen to Prime Minister Stephen Harper deliver what would be an all-party apology for the racist legislation directed exclusively at people of Chinese background, known as the Chinese head tax and the Chinese Exclusion Act. It was an emotional day as I sat with weeping descendants and survivors who paid the punishing head tax that amounted to two years of wages and endured family separation.

At that point in time, I was a president of the Chinese Canadian National Council Toronto Chapter, and activists from across the country had been working for years to obtain the parliamentary apology and the redress that was to come. It was a bittersweet moment when we heard Prime Minister Stephen Harper speak.

It was also an ironic moment for me, in Parliament’s historic railroad room afterwards, knowing that in that room hung a portrait—and as the Prime Minister was delivering and gifting the last spike to the descendants, it was in that room that I was thinking that it was the flow of Chinese immigrants and migrant workers that built the Canadian Pacific railroad that made Confederation possible. And there we were, having to demand our dignity so that we can feel a sense of belonging in this country.

Anti-Asian and anti-Chinese racism continues today. It exists, and it still exists with so many forms of hate. We can draw on the lessons of the past to ensure that we don’t repeat the mistakes made then. This is our collective responsibility.

Before my time as a public office-holder, I was also an entrepreneur, a small business owner. I worked hard planting deep roots in Toronto Centre. In 1999, I became a small business owner on Church Street. I co-founded the Church Wellesley business improvement area. While owning the Church Street business, I continued my love of the arts by creating a contemporary Canadian art gallery in the West Queen West area, also known as the art and design district. Art and literature document our human existence and give us a cultural footprint in time.

I have always blended my activism with my professional work. I am happiest when I’m creating. I want to stand for something that is important and bigger than myself. I wish to be judged not by my success but the success of those around me.

I want my son to know that I did everything I could serving in this House to build a better future for him and his generation. I want him to inherit a country that is more equitable, more prosperous, more green and more just than the one that I came into as a young child. I want my son to be proud of his parents who are queer and out, and that his non-binary mama is courageous enough to use they/them pronouns at Queen’s Park.

I will do everything in my power that I humanly can to ensure that every child has a place of belonging in Ontario. I want children who have cognitive, physical and learning disabilities to be affirmed wherever they are. I want them to feel no shame about their skin colour, their hand-me-down clothing or perhaps coming from a single-parent-led household. I want every little girl to have the same opportunity that her little brother has.

I will be vocal and relentless in supporting vulnerable tenants and residents, and holding bad landlords responsible for failing them. I will do everything in my power, as we all should, to end chronic homelessness in Ontario.

As I conclude my inaugural remarks, I want us to think about how we can roll up our sleeves to work together to address the unrecognized and often ignored mental health and addictions crisis—a crisis wrought with stigma and misunderstanding, a crisis overshadowed by the health care crisis, but just as important and deadly when left unattended and allowed to run rampant.

Citizens of Ontario expect us to work collaboratively to solve the pressing issues of the day, whether it be the health care, cost of living or housing crises. Simple solutions may have worked to resolve simple problems. Those days are over. In the age of pandemics, climate crisis and growing disparity, we must do everything we can to turn the tide.

Speaker, it’s been an honour to address the House, and with my deepest gratitude, I look forward to getting to know all the members and working with you to uplift our communities, every community, every Ontarian.

Merci, meegwetch, Xie Xie, do jeh, Mh goi and thank you.