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ABDUL-REHMAN MALIK VOICEOVER:

Welcome to This Being Human. I’m your host Abdul-Rehman Malik. On this podcast, I talk to extraordinary people from all over the world whose life, ideas and art are shaped by Muslim culture.

AUSMA MALIK:
You have to wield your power and the way that you hold it relative to other people who don’t agree with you in a particular way. Otherwise, you know, you don’t get anywhere.

ABDUL-REHMAN MALIK VOICEOVER:

My Mom always said my sister Ausma was everyone’s lawyer – vakil, in urdu. The advocate. If there was someone or something that needed defending or standing up for Ausma was there. It was my sister’s MO. Always to be on the side of the underdog. She felt deeply that nobody should be left misunderstood, or ignored, or forgotten. Whatever someone might have done, the cause came from somewhere, and she was always interested in that somewhere.

 

So it’s no big surprise that Ausma ended up in advocacy, and then eventually made her way to politics. What is a surprise is the historic nature of her electoral victories. In 2014, as a School Board Trustee, she became the first Muslim woman in hijab elected to public office in Canada. Then she became the first Muslim-identifying person on Toronto city council. Recently, she was appointed Deputy Mayor.

 

I’d like to think Ausma’s calling to public service and activism and advocacy was born around the Malik family dinner table. I don’t think my family knew the meaning of light conversation. Unlike other households, if we weren’t talking about Politics and Religion and the state of the world, we weren’t talking. The gup shup – the chit chat – was as spicy and flavorful as my mother’s curries.

 

I’m the eldest of four kids: one of my sisters is a writer and graphic artist, my younger brother is a screenwriter and filmmaker and Ausma’s one of the leaders of the 4th largest city in North America. Being an older brother means I get to be proud of my siblings. It also means I get to ask the questions that no one else can.

 

I interviewed my sister Ausma Malik live at the Aga Khan Museum in Toronto earlier this month.

 

ABDUL-REHMAN MALIK:
Please join me in welcoming Ausma Malik to This Being Human. Ausma, I’m trying to think back to the times when we were young and I’m trying to think back to maybe a moment in our growing up, in your growing up, did something happen that made you feel like you needed to be the advocate, that you needed to always defend the underdog?

 

AUSMA MALIK:
Thank you for the question. And I have to start by, first of all, thanking you for the very kind introduction and thanking everyone for being here. This is really special. The question and you know, Mama always saying that I was everyone’s lawyer, sometimes proudly and sometimes disparagingly when she wanted just like the conversation to end. And, you know, we have a lot of heated discussions at our dinner table or coffee table, even when there wasn’t a table, right, we’d find a way. But there was also a lot of humor and a lot of wit and also a lot of egging each other on and, you know, having to be a good sport in, in defending your position. Right. Especially if it was the one that everyone was like, mmmm, really? Like, that’s where you’re landing on this? And especially with my mom, I loved her so dearly and I think that some of what was spicy about and fiery about our relationship was that I do think we were very similar. And when my mom would accuse me of being everyone’s lawyer, I could only kind of turn it back and say, “Well, you’re my example,” right? And my mom, you know, even from the stories that her siblings would tell about her as like a young person and in school, she was always the one who was including, who was making sure no one was sidelined, who would be friends with the people in the class who were difficult to be friends with. I loved her so dearly and I think that some of what was spicy about and fiery about our relationship was that I do think we were very similar. And when my mom would accuse me of being everyone’s lawyer, I could only kind of turn it back and say, Well, you’re my example, right, and my mom, you know, even from the stories that her siblings would tell about her as like a young person and in school, she was always the one who was including, who was making sure no one was sidelined, who would be friends with the people in the class who were difficult to be friends with. You know, you’re a kid and you go shopping with your parents, you go to a coffee shop. And it would always bother me if someone was short with us or rude or make us wait or just like a little bit exasperated and not as friendly as possible. And while my mom, you know, she always stood her ground when it mattered, but when she saw people who are working, who are exhausted, maybe that she saw herself in, she always was able to like just take it down a beat and I always remember her, you know, if a cashier was short with us, just to really thoughtfully be able to say with them, like, has it been a long day? Right. And just to meet them in a place of understanding. You know, growing up there was a lots of ups and downs for us, you know, things as I think a lot of children of immigrants have experienced that, our parents worked so hard and did everything they could for us but, you know, in the nineties there was a recession and we found some really tough times. We moved and I started a new school in a new neighborhood after being in a place that I felt, you know, I had been since I was in kindergarten and, you know, being brand new, right, in a school that kids had been there since they were kids, right? They lived in the neighborhood. Being in that space and also knowing that, you know, kids in the neighborhood were coming from all different experiences. Right. All different types of backgrounds. And everyone was kind of, you know, even in those young years bringing like all of their all of their stories and their experiences and being able to kind of figure out and navigate, who you decide to be and who you decide to be with. And I think that there were some really important moments in that where it’s like, it’s really easy to be with the kids who are doing the most and getting the attention. And then I felt like my mom because there were some kids who were really struggling and making the choice to be like, Hey, who are you? We should know each other, right? And how can you be part of my circle, Right? And I think that that was really important. And that jumps out to me.

 

ABDUL-REHMAN MALIK:
You had such an eclectic group of friends, Ausma, and you always surprised us. You know, who are the people who were coming over for playdates or when we go to the school and we’re like, wow, that’s like a really varied group of folks that didn’t fall into kind of any pattern. And what you’re saying now kind of helps me make sense of that, like what was going on in those, in those spaces. And I think in some ways it speaks for me as your brother to where you’ve ended up because you are confidently Muslim. And you’re an activist and an advocate on issues of climate change. You stand up for the unhoused. You stand up for the marginalized. In all the years that we’ve watched your activism and your organizing and your political work develop, I have never thought for a moment that you represented any particular community. You’re confidently Muslim and you have this kind of inclusive vision of care. And I wondered to myself, like, what do you draw on to maintain that sense of inclusion, of big tent goodness, especially in a time when our politics and our public discourse are really divisive and really ugly?

 

AUSMA MALIK:
You know, for me and I think for so many of us, we’re on a journey right around our place in the world and our understanding of it and why we’re here and the choices that we make. And for me, that, again, the example of our family and mom and Abu was, you know, a faith that was active. Right? That if you’re talking about being someone who is just and ethical and moral, you have to demonstrate that in your actions, right? And for, you know, our parents and especially mama, it was, you know, being present for our neighbors and in our schools and making the effort to build a faith community of people who we could count on and be aligned with. And so for me, growing up, it’s also asking a lot of questions, right, about what that means in action and then everything else that you’re kind of seeing around you, and especially someone who, you know, has grown up in the last, you know, 20 years through some some very difficult moments that, you know, you’re all be familiar with. But for me, my faith is so important because it is what calls me to be hopeful, right? It calls me to step up to my responsibility, to not turn away from improving the world. It is what grounds me in, you know, reaching out to each other and to be in community. And I mentioned this quite often, but there is a prophetic saying about, who are your neighbors? I use neighbor as a way to talk about my community and the work that I do, and I mean that in a literal sense, but also in a spiritual sense. And what I love, especially in this time where we are, we are grappling with things like a, you know, a climate crisis that, you know, is giving us a timeline of our existence where we are, you know, debating people’s human rights, which is just not acceptable at all. I just heard this morning, you know, how we are continuing to be the child poverty capital of the country, right where we have we’re grappling with these things. You know, in those moments, I do remember the prophetic saying about, you know, planting a seed that even if everything is crumbling around you, plant that seed. Right? And it is that hope combined with action that is really important and really grounding to me in faith. It’s, you know, what guides me and why I am proud to be in the world, as a muslim person and also the community and the faith that I draw on.

 

ABDUL-REHMAN MALIK:
You know, Ausma, as you’re speaking, you know, I kind of see images coming across my imagination. And as you’re talking, I’m taken back to Boustead Avenue in West Toronto to the mosque that we attended all of our lives and many of you did as well, the Jami Mosque. Shoutout for the Jami Mosque. I think so many of us, our lives were kind of shaped there. I remember going to the masjid, going to the mosque and our aunties and uncles and elders were Egyptian and Somali, Punjabi, [?] Bengali, Guyanese, Trinidadian, Jamaican, Nigerian, Bosnian, South African and everyone in between. They would cajole us. They would discipline us. They would give us gifts. They’d give us words of encouragement. And then I think about our own parents’ experiences, like many of you in this room who came and there was no family here, there was nothing. And they planted the seeds they like made it work. We were surrounded by a community of elders who made it work, and I complain about all kinds of stuff, but I think to myself, how did that generation make it work? And that’s an honest question because I think I have a lot of answers for it. But they swirl around in my heart because these were the people who shaped you. There’s definitely people who shaped me. Somehow they made it work and they made it work in this city, in the city that you’re now the deputy mayor of. How did they make it work?

 

AUSMA MALIK:

Well, I think you described it. There’s consistency.

ABDUL-REHMAN MALIK:
Yeah, that’s true.

AUSMA MALIK:
And care and a discipline and a ferocity to that approach, right. Our parents immigrated here 50 years ago, more than 50 years ago, and they did make Toronto and this city their home. And they love this city. They love Canada. Right. I, I and that to them and in my experience meant that it wasn’t that you just accept or are grateful for what, where you’ve landed here. And I also want to acknowledge that the reason why our parents so many of us had to make the choice to be here is because the history of colonization, right, that made our homes and the places that, you know, our families are from, places where it was very hard to imagine the kind of future that they wanted and made that the choice to to be here. And that also informs my commitment to Indigenous truth, reconciliation and restitution, is that we have to be alongside each other and in solidarity because of the journey that our parents made and because of so many of the things that they’re able to benefit from, that we have to be in common cause with each other. But, you know, when I ran in 2014, my first time running, and I faced a really targeted and vicious campaign of Islamophobia and heat and innuendo, and it was very challenging. It first started online and then showed up, you know, in print, door knockers, people coming to all-candidates meetings and disrupting them, you know, being outside of our office. It was very, very scary and surprising, right? And I remember calling mama, you know, to kind of share what was happening and my worry and, you know, of course, she’s always, for me, really good at listening. And and then she said, you know, Ausma, to be in politics, you have to have a thick skin. Right? And I’m like, okay, that’s not quite the reassurance I was looking for. But then she said, and you also have to remember you’re not alone. And, you know, the question that you’re asking also puts that advice in perspective, because coming to a place brand new, such a young person with our Abu who there is still kind of like figuring out what that partnership looked like, and to find a community and figure out how to how to survive with those ups and downs. Yeah, you need a thick skin and you have to remember you’re not alone. And that’s on every level. And I, I feel really fortunate to have benefited from that advice and something that I carry, and to be able to see it in new ways even through our conversation.

ABDUL-REHMAN MALIK:
You know I think alongside that, Ausma, comes like a deep sense of like radical fairness. And boy, our mother could be radically fair. I’ve been thinking about something really funny that happened when I was in kindergarten. I remember I was walking out of the kindergarten class and mama was supposed to pick me up. And being headstrong and stupid, I decided not to go to the crosswalk to cross to the other side where Mama’s car would come to meet me. And I decided, of course, I can cross the road at will and all traffic shall stop for me. I remember walking into the road and being hit by a car and it wasn’t traveling very fast, so it was more like a shock. But I do remember seeing the underside of the bumper. And then I heard Mama’s voice. Right, then I heard her voice and she was like, not talking to me, she was talking to the driver of the car. And she was like. Please don’t cry. It’s not your fault. [audience laughter] You should not. He should not have crossed the road. He should not have crossed the road. There’s a crosswalk over there. I mean, I remember hearing this conversation and thinking. I mean, some kids do have them. We got those. We got those. We got those mothers. And I remember on the way home, you know, we have lots of like, you know, in every language there’s like there’s like, like we call them [?]

AUSMA MALIK:
Aphorisms.

ABDUL-REHMAN MALIK:
Aphorisms, yeah. She had a Punjabi aphorism for every moment. [speaking Punjabi]. Backward works have backward ends. That’s what we got. And I thought to myself, Oh, my goodness, there would have been insurance being called if someone else’s mom or dad showed up. There would have been police being called. I got like, “You got a few bruises. You’re okay, son. Don’t do it again.” And I think at the heart of kind of our upbringing is a kind of fairness that sometimes was a little bit difficult to swallow. But I guess as we get older, we… I don’t know, we appreciate it more. We can laugh about it with our friends at the very least.

 

AUSMA MALIK:
Yeah, I hope you’re okay.

 

ABDUL-REHMAN MALIK:
No, I’m all right. I’m all right.

 

AUSMA MALIK:
Do you want to talk about it?

 

ABDUL-REHMAN MALIK:
Maybe I’ve got some long-term trauma from it. But no, I think I’m good. Ausma, you know, one of the things that we drowned in other than, you know, the seemingly endless cups of chai in our house was books. I remember one of the things that yourself and myself and Ayesha in particular like to do together was go to the library and in ways that I’m sure would violate laws today, Mama would drop us off at the library, the three of us, and we would basically read for the whole afternoon. She’d get her shopping and stuff done, come back to the library, and we wouldn’t want to leave because we loved.

AUSMA MALIK:
We were nerds.

ABDUL-REHMAN MALIK:
We were basically nerds. I don’t know. Is that a cool thing now?

AUSMA MALIK:
Yeah, I think to be really into things, sure.

ABDUL-REHMAN MALIK:
Is that a cool thing to be a nerd? As I approach 50, I can embrace that. What were the books, Ausma, what were the books that spoke to you, growing up? And particularly what were those books that you go back to now, you know, and that that you find sort of nurturing you and shaping you?

AUSMA MALIK:
So, first of all, thank you for sharing those stories. Those are very first-born stories, you understand?

ABDUL-REHMAN MALIK:
I’m sure they are.

AUSMA MALIK:
That is very first-born.

ABDUL-REHMAN MALIK:
I’m sure they are.

AUSMA MALIK:
I do want to go back to that method of parenting that our mom had of like dropping us all off to a place or saying if you went in twos or threes, like, then you could basically go anywhere, right?

ABDUL-REHMAN MALIK:
Yes.

AUSMA MALIK:
You had to grab a sibling…

ABDUL-REHMAN MALIK:
That’s so true.

AUSMA MALIK:
…and then you could go. And it was actually Ayesha who, you know, over the last little while and the time that we had with our mom, like, asked about that. Right. And was like, what was the rationale behind that? She was like, well, if there’s two of you, you know, it’s cool. Like, you’ll watch out for each other, right? Three of you. Even better, right? Three of you and then you’re the oldest, uh, or I should, they’ll — you’ll figure it out. You’ll find each other. And I think that that’s really an important piece of, you know, that upbringing and that trust and also that, you know, knowing you’re not alone is that you’ve got one other sibling. I, I also think that if that car thing happened with me, our mom would have reacted very differently. But that’s because I was the third child after some experience and, you know, and and then they might have reacted.

ABDUL-REHMAN MALIK:
You wouldn’t have done it. You wouldn’t have crossed without the crosswalk.

AUSMA MALIK:
I might have. Mama studied English literature in college, right. And that was her, that was her degree. And I really love that. And that was one of those things that was hard for us to be aligned on, because she loved classic books. Right? Like, you know, all the classics and Dickens and all of that, like the long with lots of descriptions and things like that. She was really into that. But she loved books and loved knowledge and loved learning things and loved stories. And I think that’s also something that her and Abu deeply share, right? One of my favorite memories from growing up is — and I think this is why I love reading out loud — is like to be read out loud, too, from Mom and Abu and our Abu is here, my my dad and, you know, would read us poetry in Urdu and in Farsi and then, you know, challenge us to be like, well, what like from the little you can understand or the vibe of it, what does it mean. Right. And to be able to decode that together. And I think ultimately that was about saying that like, you know, engage with ideas. Read, right? That is also a Koranic and prophetic direction, right? Read and and to be able to but don’t just read and accept the idea read read and grapple with it right? Talk about it. Debate it. And I think that that was really important for me growing up. I really loved Gordon Korman books. I loved uh, how many – are people gordon Korman fans?

ABDUL-REHMAN MALIK:
Oh yeah.

AUSMA MALIK:
There is this one book that has gone out of publication. I haven’t read it recently, so I’m hoping it holds up in the small details as much as the big idea. But it’s called Son of Interflux. And it’s about this kid who is I guess now like his dad kind of runs what would be the equivalent of like Amazon. Right. And they’re building like a big factory right near his very eclectic art school. And it’s about like how he kind of subverts his artwork and and his community to, like, rise up against that effort. And I love that book. And I had this one copy that we actually got from the library that was decommissioned. Right. When they like get rid of it, they shouldn’t be circulating them because they’re in bad shape. So I have a copy of that and I hold on to it really in a precious way. I really love that book. And then one of the books that I do revisit, you know, I think on occasion and I think to me it always reveals something different each time is the Autobiography of Malcolm X. And I think when I read it as like someone young trying to figure out my politics, someone who is deep in activism, and also as someone who, you know, is like an adult doing doing the work. And always, you know, for me, it’s the thing that I think touched me the most about his story is, you know, that ability to, like, never count anyone out and the capability to transform and to know better and to do better and to be so grounded in what matters. And I think as I have grown up being able to reveal the layers of what the lessons are in that book and that example. And that has really meant a lot to me.

ABDUL-REHMAN MALIK:
It’s amazing how there’s certain books like The Autobiography of Malcolm X and others that we go back to so often. And I think we find ourselves sort of reaching for them in times of crisis because I think in a way they encompass so many aspects of the human experience and they reveal themselves as we grow up and we experience things. I like The Autobiography of Malcolm X. I would never have considered it a book about grief. But, you know, reading it in the aftermath of Momma’s passing, I realized, boy, there’s a lot of grief. And Malcolm is dealing with the alienation from his mom and from his community and those who passed around him. And then all of a sudden, these things appear so fresh again. And there’s that the timelessness of literature, but it’s also the timelessness of music. I mean, more than any of the music’s you are a live music aficionado like you. You like you’d go out to like amazing concerts and then meet the band, of course, afterwards. And it would be so, like, interesting. And and, you know, you’re talking about libraries and we’re talking about libraries. I think the lead singer of your favorite band had a song called Millennium for All, which was like a celebration of libraries. This is as real as my sister Alicia would say, this is a real CanCon question. Canadian content. Why do you like the Canadian band The Weakerthans so much?

AUSMA MALIK:
Oh my god. Well, where should I begin?

ABDUL-REHMAN MALIK:
I mean, it is still. It is still your favorite band. And I’m like, there’s a lot of cool bands out there. You’ve traveled the world, you’ve seen things. But you come back to Winnipeg, Manitoba, and The Weakerthans. Why? Tell me why, Ausma.

AUSMA MALIK:
Well, I have to also give a lot of credit to my best friend from junior high. I will give her a shoutout on this podcast. Shada, if you’re listening. And when you’re listening. But, you know, I think so much of my commitment to music and pop culture is also the way it connects us. And I do also think that that was our household, right? Like, it was music and it was movies and it was television and some of my favorite shared memories of ours. So if our parents were open and agnostic about like books and literature, I think they had the same approach to film and classic movies and television. And we still had appointment television when we were growing up, right. So being able to come together after school or, you know, and to share that. Can I just share, before I get to The Weakerthans, one of my favorite anecdotes about music and how it crosses our generations?

ABDUL-REHMAN MALIK:
Go for it.

AUSMA MALIK:
Okay. So I guess I was in high school or junior high when the Beastie Boys album Hello Nasty came out. Right. And of course, like, I got the album and I had like a sticker and it was like in my room. And I was like, I basically discovered them, right? And so I remember you saw it and you’re like, What’s that? And I was like, “You wouldn’t know,” right? I was like, It’s this band called The Beastie Boys and it’s their new album, Hello Nasty. And I remember you got a… your real back up about it and you were like “The Beastie Boys? I knew them before you were born, okay?” I don’t know if that’s true, but I do think that that was also maybe a humbling moment for me because I’m like, Oh, I shouldn’t just talk like this. I should also know a little bit of the story.

ABDUL-REHMAN MALIK:
So whatcha, whatcha, whatcha want. Whatcha want?

AUSMA MALIK:
That’s right. You gotta fight for your right to party, right? You gotta fight for your right to everything these days. So, you know, and it was around that time and I and I and I’m pretty sure my friend Shayda burned the Weakerthans CD one of her friends had given her the like, whatever, you know, mp3 files and then she burned the CD. And I remember I was finishing up an assignment and I turned it on. And like, that whole album Left and Leaving, it was like, I just remember just like stopping and listening to it because it is music, but it’s also like beautiful poetry. And actually John K. Sampson, the lead singer of The Weakerthans, he did publish a book of poetry based on his lyrics, right? And I do think that that is really what I connected with. And, you know, if I reflect on it now, so many of his themes are about a city, right? He talks really beautifully about Winnipeg and his hometown as like a character. And like, you know, a love hate relationship or the way that it shapes you and the stories of people in it. Right? And that was something that was through all the albums that I loved. But I think it’s also, you know, artists who can celebrate the ordinary, who can create a beautiful story out of the day to day experiences that we have. And I just love the song Millennium for All. And it’s when I first heard it, it was really emotional because it to me is a love letter. It’s a love song to libraries. And it actually came out of a moment of crisis and of activism where, and I hope I’m remembering this right, but it was during a budget process in Winnipeg and, you know, I think there was lots of cuts happening. So that was a fight happening alongside it. But this big library that was such a hub for the community, the proposal was to put up metal detectors and like enhanced security that would make it much more difficult and unwelcoming for people to be there. And there’s a line where he, in the song, he talks a lot about, you know, where like, what you do at the library, right? And, you know, one of the lines which is very Canadian is like, this is where we go when it feels like with a wind chill, right? And just as a phrase and as a way of being, right? There’s another line where he says, you know, this is where we go to speak in the languages that they tried to take away. And there’s so many beautiful moments where we go to knit mittens for refugees, right? And just everything that these public spaces mean to us. And I do think that’s beautiful and that’s what artists and culture makers allow us to do, to be able to connect to the ordinary, to make us see and uplift the public spaces and the things that we have to defend together. And, you know, I think that for me, I’ve like put a lot of my heart and my commitment in The Weakerthans, and each time they have stepped up and risen to the occasion. And I love that. And I and my friend, [?] is here. I can hear her laughing in the audience. And I think one of the things that we reflect on, also a Weakerthans fan, is to have art that grows with you. And I do think I really appreciate that and, you know, to discover new things along the way, but also to be true to that core as well.

ABDUL-REHMAN MALIK:
You know, it feels like you never shy away from a fight for a fight for something that’s meaningful. But I want to take you back to a moment that we shared, but I think was also shared by several people, including my sister Ayesha. But several others of you were in the room. And I want to take you back to April 20th, 2001. Somewhere on a highway overpass in Quebec City, we were united by a rain of tear gas. I don’t think anyone ever forgets the first time that they’re tear gassed. And we were there together. What was it about that moment and what was happening around us that had such a profound impact on you and the kind of activist that you would become?

 

AUSMA MALIK:
Yeah. First time you tear gas, it’s really something. And in the country that you love, right? And in a city that you know is beautiful and has a lot of history and meaning. And so, you know. It was 2001 in the spring, and there was a negotiation around a free trade area of the Americas. And there was a big gathering where they were kind of working towards the negotiation of that agreement, which eventually never went anywhere. They couldn’t figure their stuff out. And there was a big movement of folks who were going to go and protest there and we joined that. And I was in high school at the time. I think I was in Grade 11. And, you know, and I guess before I go on, I will just say, you know, we’re talking a lot about our parents in this conversation in particular about Mama. And that really means a lot. But, you know, in preparing for this conversation and I think probably anyone who knows me that when I think about my politics and you know how to be able to be someone who’s true to the beliefs that ground you and to be in the good fight, I have to really give you and Ayesha credit for that, right, I do think that, you know, engaging with ideas and having people who are sounding boards and folks who could challenge you and provide good advice that I didn’t take all the time is really you, and I do, and I do think that maybe that was the genius of our mom as well, was like, you know, knew her limits and and maybe Abu as well and said that, you know, you three or four have to go figure that out and maybe, you know, the trust and you being able to be alongside each other, you’re better equipped to figure that out, right? And we’ll be here. But, you know, in this time that we’re in and in the place that you were growing up, maybe all of you will understand each other a little bit better and I do appreciate that gift. And where it landed us at one time was right in the heart of a global protest against a really destructive trade agreement. And they were talking about the free movement of goods and the restrictive movement of people, right, that that limited human rights. And I was still figuring out some of what that looked like and with the support of, you know, Mother Jones and Adbusters and our conversations and and, you know, everything that was happening in the world, being able to be there and feeling drawn and pulled to be in a place where other people were also expressing that. But also to see our city, a city in Canada, barricaded, right? And for and we were part of that peaceful block of protesters to be targeted so viciously and with so much intention and violence. Yeah, of course, that was formative for me. And, you know, thinking back and even doing a little bit of reading and research about the immense amount of care and organizing that protesters brought in so that people did exactly what they felt comfortable with and that there was a shared understanding of what that was, and to still see the force with which folks who were there, you know, to stand up for what they believed in were treated. I think that that was a big lesson for me just in power and who has it, and how it works, and how those decisions are made. You have to wield your power and the way that you hold it relative to other people who don’t agree with you in a particular way. Otherwise, you know, you don’t get anywhere.

ABDUL-REHMAN MALIK:

I remember Ayesha and you in particular that moment when it was really hairy and we were we were trying to get away from this cloud of tear gas that was like kind of, you know, not only were we crying, but it’s just it’s so painful that that, you know, you guys were were two of the people were like running out into it and and just helping people up, and we all went behind this wall where the, where the wind wasn’t coming down, you know, downstream towards us and I and I and I do think in that moment, like, you know, it was just amazing to see both of you, even at your age and to take that role, you know, as my younger siblings of of like, we were all kind of running with our eyes and you guys were running right back into it and and like, helping people out. And I think it really said something about, about that moment and about this idea of solidarity, you know, about being with people and sometimes even in small or big ways, you got to put yourself on the line for people. And in that way, Ausma, like representation is a really funny thing, right? You at one point, you’ve been a political activist. You were a student organizer. You got elected to student office. You were doing all this. You’ve done a lot of amazing stuff. And, you know, then you jump into electoral politics and if we have time, we can talk about that. But I’m interested in something else, actually, because a lot has been made, rightfully so, about you being the first hijab-wearing Muslim-identifying woman to be elected to public office. It’s an incredible achievement. That it took so long is also like a little bit concerning. You’re the first Muslim woman on Toronto City Council, first, you know, South Asian Muslim woman to be deputy mayor of what I what I have to, I really underscore now when I speak to friends about this who are not from Canada. Toronto is the fourth largest city in North America. It’s Mexico City, New York, L.A. and then Toronto. We are a major, not just a Canadian metropolis. We’re a major world metropolis. And here you are as deputy mayor. And yet. Representations. A funny thing, isn’t it? Because I think sometimes when we talk about representation, it’s like, “We did it team.” Fist bump. “We made it.” But that’s not enough for you, is it? I know you’ve said to me that it’s not enough. It’s not enough to be a representative first.

AUSMA MALIK:
You know, in 2014, you know, I ran very reluctantly, right? I had work, I worked in politics, I worked in community organizing, in labor organizing. And, you know, I worked with really amazing elected representatives, people who are just remarkable, right. And, you know, I did Student Union and I was proud to be able to do that. But that was not my goal. But, you know, public education is really important to me. And it was in real trouble in my community. And in that election, I felt like the mayor’s office and councilors were well in hand. And I was happy to support my friends who were running in those positions. But at the school board level, it was a mess, right? And I was like, I’m going to put my energy, my thinking, my relationships into supporting whoever, is aligned with my values and my vision to, you know, share theirs to be able to to win and to put the school board in a better direction, right, and to have the representation that our community needs, because I believe so deeply and it doesn’t wane for me, that public education is one of the only pathways to true equity and equality that we have and we have to defend it, right? (applause) And then, you know, I asked a lot of people and they were like, we don’t know. We haven’t heard anyone running. And then my friend, former City Councilor Mike Layton, said, Why don’t you do it? Right? It seems like you really care about this. Why not? And you know, there’s a statistic about how many times you have to ask women to run in particular before they might even consider it. And whatever that number is, like, triple it. Right? And I was asked by so many people and I was like, no way. And then finally spoke to my family and and, you know, you all said, well, you know, it’s an issue you care about in a community you love. What’s the worst that could happen? And it was really, “Let me show you!” Right?

ABDUL-REHMAN MALIK:
[laughs]

AUSMA MALIK:
So that win was really, really incredible and community made. And it was so many people coming together from all the work that I had been able to do to, you know, join ranks from every kind of, you know, part of the city and in my community, people who I knew and didn’t know, people who were movers and builders and who weren’t. And, you know, it was after I was elected, the Toronto Star did a story on it. And then they’re like, Oh, has there ever been anyone like you elected? I’m like, there must be. I mean, big country, I don’t know. And they did their research and they found that I was the first, right? Muslim woman to be elected to public office in Canada ever. And yeah, that meant so much to me, right? That was so huge, but it wasn’t what I sought to do in the effort. And also it is, you know, it is so meaningful to me, my community, to my family, but also just this enormous message about how much more we have to do, first of all, in terms of just that basic representation. But, you know, secondly, for me, you’re right, representation is not enough. And to continue to have first right now, just last night, just last night in Manitoba, the first the NDP won in that election. And we have never before had a First Nations premier of a province in Canada. And yet we elected him. Yesterday, the House of Commons elected their first black speaker. These are amazing wins for representation. But we’re in 2023 and we’re still making firsts and we need so many more of us and that’s really important. And the final thing I’ll just say about this piece and something that I’ve held really closely is, you know, I do grapple with that idea of just like, is representation just enough? Right. And I think some in some places in some moments, you know, there’s folks who feel that way. And I heard bell hooks speak many years ago and she talks about this, you know, this relationship between representation and substance. Representation and shared values. And that that is what makes representation meaningful is when we show an example. And for me, it has been meaningful to be able to work with as much integrity and in community as possible to show what progressive political leadership can look like from me as a person that I am. And hopefully to open the door wider and to pave the path much clearer for many more people to see themselves in that space and to see this kind of public service is worthy. You know, my ward has City Hall in it, which is really special, Spadina-Fort York is the home of City Hall. And for me and my team since day one, our commitment has been to that belonging and that welcome and maybe that, you know, that hardwired hospitality in terms of making sure that people know that in these places where decisions about their lives and livelihoods are made, that that is their space, that’s their council, that’s their legislature, that’s their Parliament Hill, and that they have to hold elected representatives to a higher expectation and to be able to elect people who align with their beliefs and their missions to improve the world for all of us. And that is really important because elected representation to me is not the whole now is not the whole story. It’s a piece of the puzzle. And I am an activist and an advocate, and I know the work that we do to fight for those things that are going to make this city a place that we are really proud of. So much of those efforts land at those tables and you want to have the best people, the people who are most committed to community, the people who like Mayor Chow, feel the urgency of the issues that we’re facing. And you want them to be there, moving that stuff forward and working with you to get it done. And I’m really proud to be in this role as who I am to be giving leadership to that. It does not mean that the challenges are any less, but when we have that, we have a much more promising way forward to actually build the world we want.

ABDUL-REHMAN MALIK:
I also think to myself, Ausma, that there’s a lot of difficult conversations going on, uncomfortable conversations. I often feel really jaded, sometimes even cynical about it, because I guess as I continue to grow and as you do and I find myself that sometimes these questions and these issues that are writ large in our public discourse, I find myself, like disagreeing with people who I love. You know, I find myself disagreeing with my own community, the people who I grew up with, the aunties and uncles who I cherish. But over dinner table conversations, I’m like, No, uncle man, you’ve got it wrong. And also being able to say that night, I guess, I wonder. How do we balance love and disagreement? How do we balance care and divergence? You know, how do we negotiate that?

AUSMA MALIK:
You know, I guess as much as, you know, sometimes we have conversations with our elders where we disagree. I guess over the last little while, I have been really heartened by some of the conversations that I’ve had with our elders where I’m expecting it to go in a particular direction and they have just surprised me in the best way. And they have also expressed the same concerns or skepticism about things where I thought they would go somewhere else. So again, for me it’s also about not presupposing things and counting people out. I do think that’s really important. I do also want to acknowledge that we’ve come through a really hard few years, right? And that there has been so much grief and loss in the pandemic. Some of it has been people we care about and experiences and our own capabilities and health. But it’s also been about our relationships and who we were then and where we are now and seeing the state of the world in a particular way, and that there’s a lot of fear and anxiety around that. And I don’t think we’ve actually found quite the right ways to be able to grapple with it. And I do think that’s also part of what I feel my responsibility in the role is how do we use the capability that we have as a city, as a province, as a country to be able to hold people and support that right as we try to move forward. So it’s also, you know, being able to be aware of the context that we’re that we’re talking about things in, and I also think it has meant that we are a little bit out of practice of gathering, right. And convening in spaces and engaging with ideas and each other in ways that feel healthier or where we can actually hear each other. And I do think that that is really important and it’s very hard. Right? And I also have to kind of like, you know, be conscious of my own mileage to be able to engage. And, you know, one of the members of my team has a poster about de-escalation and what you do in a crisis if someone’s coming at you.

ABDUL-REHMAN MALIK:
A very useful thing to have in a politician’s office.

AUSMA MALIK:
Very useful. But, you know, I, I also think that sometimes, like, we have to be able to have the capacity to engage with ideas and not close the door. But sometimes it’s just being like, wow, it’s tough. Like things are tough right now. Right. And, you know, to kind of be able to bring it down to the place where we are able to see each other as human beings and to go from there. And for me, it’s always to stick firm to my values, to be able to hopefully see people as the human beings that they are, and to know that we can disagree and that you’re a human person who’s struggling with something, right? And who’s grappling with some ideas that are your own. And, you know, to be able to stick with each other, especially the people who we love, to be able to come through it and come out the other side. And I do think that there is a way to be able to do that. And I don’t have a straightforward answer. I don’t have a magic wand for how that happens. I just have to know that we have to keep holding the space together and we also have to take care of ourselves and each other and the people who we care about in order to be able to do that productively.

ABDUL-REHMAN MALIK:
In the last 90 seconds that we have Ausma, and I appreciate that, because sometimes I feel like. I feel like we all have, like, a certain kryptonite, right? There’s that thing that really kind of levels us. And I find some of these conversations, these difficult conversations with our loved ones where our our values come up against others as kind of a kryptonite moment, because I, I feel like it just it, it sucks the life out of you because you know that there’s fights that you got to be fighting. But this isn’t the one that you want to fight. And yet what you say there makes so much sense. Because I think it’s got to come back to compassion, doesn’t it? And radical empathy, if you or I or any one of us is calling to radical empathy and compassion in the world, we got to start with the people around us, even when we disagree with them in the end. And we can vehemently disagree and work towards that better world anyways, isn’t it?

AUSMA MALIK:
Well, I always think about James Baldwin, because I do think that there is like a kind of a minimum level of understanding that we do need to be having these conversations at. And I will not attempt to paraphrase him, but, he says, you know, I’ll talk to anyone and people who I will disagree with, but if the basis of that conversation is challenging my humanity, then that’s not a conversation that’s going to get anywhere. And I do think that we do have to hold some minimum levels of understanding and discipline and where that compassion can actually grow and build in order to be able to have those productive conversations. And if folks are unable to meet us there, if we’re not willing to meet people at that level, that does make it really challenging. And you know, the question about kryptonite, I, I guess I don’t know how to like, turn it back. But yes, there are things that definitely are more draining of energy for me. But I think the thing that gives me life and that we are grappling with really big, really hard, really challenging things about people’s lives, livelihoods, their wellbeing. And for me, in terms of the work that I do and the way that I do it, it’s to make sure that we can also find the places to hold joy and enjoyment and fun. With all of the challenges that we have in front of us and all that it’s going to take from all of us, we have to be able to have something left at the end of the day to keep going. And we have to be able to fulfill an element of fun in the work that we do and that it isn’t just, you know, as one of my colleagues, Pat says, just being grim and determined, right? But it is about also being joyful and excited in this work. And we have to find those places to be able to do that. And for me, I guess the thing that keeps me going and grounded and that I don’t lose that is the people who I care about and love my amazing community, team that I get to work with my siblings and my family, my friends, and, you know, also artists and culture makers that produce amazing things that allow me to to take a break and to come back to myself in those times that are really hard.

ABDUL-REHMAN MALIK:
Ausma, this was a joy. We have to do this again some time.

AUSMA MALIK:
Yeah.

ABDUL-REHMAN MALIK:
Please join me in thanking Ausma Malik for being on This Being Human.

[audience applause]

ABDUL-REHMAN MALIK VOICEOVER:

 

Thank you to everyone at the Aga Khan Museum for organizing this live event for Islamic Heritage Month.

 

This Being Human is produced by Antica Productions in partnership with TVO. Our Senior Producer is Kevin Sexton. Our associate producer is Hailey Choi. Our executive producer is Laura Regehr. Stuart Coxe is the president of Antica Productions.

 

Mixing and sound design by Phil Wilson. Original music by Boombox Sound.

 

Shaghayegh [sha-ruh-yier] Tajvidi is TVO’s Managing Editor of Digital Video and Podcasts. Laurie Few is the executive for digital at TVO.

 

This Being Human is generously supported by the Aga Khan Museum. Through the arts, the Aga Khan Museum sparks wonder, curiosity, and understanding of Muslim cultures and their connection with other cultures. For more information about the museum go to www.agakhanmuseum.org

 

The Museum wishes to thank The Hilary and Galen Weston Foundation for their generous support of This Being Human.