Public Policy Forum

Acceptance speech, April 26, 2007
Parker Mitchell and George Roter, Co-CEOs - EWB

Thank you Jodi for those kind words. It is a humbling honour for EWB to be recognized by such an august group.

I returned yesterday from a month in Zambia and Malawi, where I was evaluating our programs, to a changed country. I barely recognized the Globe’s new look. Belinda is leaving politics. And Bell might be going private. I half expected to see the Leafs hoisting the Stanely Cup, but some things never change.

Public policy’s essence is bringing about a better tomorrow. It is about hope. I would like to share with you this evening what hope means in Africa.

I had arranged to stay for a few days with a local farming family. My host mother, Monica Phiri, beaming with wamth, greeted me with words I won't forget. “I hope the rains in Canada are plentiful.” That, to her, is the central hope. She plants her crops and then has to wait, hoping that the rains will come.

I asked Monica’s husband Mpanza about his hopes for the future. He talked about reroofing his leaky hut, but first he wanted to educate all his daughters, one of whom had completed secondary school already – an incredible feat where fewer than one in 20 girls do.

I tried to get a glimpse of my family’s life in Malawi. We woke up at five am to begin chores, worked in the field until my hands were blistered, and ended the evening at 11pm after plucking washing, drying and tying 600 little bunches of vegetables. A lot of work for four dollars.

What Monica and Mpanza suffer from is a poverty of circumstance, not of spirit. 600 little bunches of vegetables is hope.

There is hope at a larger scale, though you might not know if from our media. For every Nigerian election, there are successful ones Ghana, Zambia and Malawi. For every child dying today, two would have died 20 years ago.

But there are challenges too. Take the story of a woman named Yesterday. She is at a clinic and it is obvious and heart-wrenching that she has AIDS. The doctor and asks her why she was named Yesterday: “I was named by my father. He said that when I was born, things were better yesterday than today. So that is my name.”

I can’t think of anything more tragic. Condemned to yesterday being better than today.

We all dream of a tomorrow better than yesterday. And usually hard work will bring us there. But Monica and Mpanza and millions of others must sometimes simply hope. That rains come. That elections are fair. That the mosquito that bit them doesn’t carry malaria. Hopes outside their control – though we have an opportunity to do something.

We are all here this evening because we do have hope – hope for a better community, a better Canada, a better world.

It was in the spirit of hopefulness that EWB was started 7 years ago. And EWB is successful partially because we focused on copying a lot of the institutions here. We took risks. We had to act decisively and stick to difficult decisions. We had to analyse mountains of data, identify trends and develop implications. We had to think about the longevity of the organisation and its culture.

But obviously the real reason we are privileged to be standing here because of the tremendous skill, passion and dedication of hundreds of staff, volunteers and supporters.

And there is one missing ingredient that explains this incredible commitment. One word. a simple word. A word that seems incongruous in a room of cufflinks and heels that is expecting us to talk about cerebral public policy.

Love. That’s right, L-O-V-E. Love.

You might be thinking, as Tina Turner did: What’s love got to do with it?

We’ve learned that love is central, and that it is powerful. Love of a mission that brings meaning. Love of Monica and Mpanza and others. Love of the difficult journey that is development, and love of our colleagues as we travel this journey together.

This is love as Martin Luther King called it, “the love that does justice.”

Everyday we work alongside other young people – you know “young people” – the ones we hear are apathetic, self-centered and unengaged. They aren’t. They are looking for meaning, beyond their parents’, their company’s or society’s definitions of success.

They are people like Bud Sambasivam, who quit his six-figure job at a major Calgary oil producer, the day after winning the company’s President’s award, to help build EWB’s strategy and programs for engaging with Canadian corporations.

Bud is working for EWB because he sees the opportunity to connect business success with the love that does justice. He is just one of many.

The quality of people EWB attracts humbles and sometimes scares me. We have Rhode’s Scholars, Ivy League graduates and people who are finishing at the top of their class. Last fall I was meeting with the Dean of Engineering from a prominent East Coast University who demanded to know why all his top students were also leading the local EWB chapter.

Why? Because there is a latent need among the new cohort of highly talented young people to experience this love that does justice.

The social critic John Rushkin wrote “When Love and skill work together, expect a masterpiece”. At EWB, people put aside ego to help one another develop the skills and have the opportunities to fulfil their own vision of becoming powerful agents of social change.

This also is part of the love that does justice.

And we are finding that it is powerful.

This should be exciting to you, as these are our future social and business leaders, public servants, academics and politicians. But it might also be somewhat troubling. We are colleagues tonight, but we are competitors tomorrow. We want these people as much as you. And if our experience is right, you’ll find that money and even responsibility won’t be enough. Red tape barriers won’t be accepted and the old rules won’t apply. These young leaders are looking for meaning – they are looking for the love that does justice.

Now don’t worry – we’re willing to share. We’re happy to give them to you when they need to top up their income to build a family. But a warning – we’ll likely want them back!

Now what does this mean for public policy? Hope shows us what to aim for. Skills will help us get there. But in the endless frustrations that are inevitable in creating a better tomorrow, love is what will help us overcome the obstacles.

If wait times go up, one might call for a review of the health system; if your mother is sick you go to the end of the earth to secure her care.

Hope alone can melt under the oppressive heat of reality. But Love means passion. Love means horror. Love means outrage. At stolen elections in Nigeria. At no elections in Zimbabwe. At lip-service in Darfour. At inefficiencies in the current aid system. At stalled trade negotiations. All these are difficult issues – but since when has difficulty been an excuse for inaction?

At EWB we have seen the considerable challenges in development, but with this love that does justice we will forge ahead. We believe in creating a generation of concerned citizens. Of reaching 50% of high school students across Canada. Of engaging every one of Canada’s 200,000 engineers as a donor to development. Of helping Canadian corporations lead the world in their socially responsible operations overseas. And of helping Canada to regain a international role that is innovative, that helps Monica, and that Canadians can be proud of. And yes this will be difficult. But we’ll do it. And we need to do it together, and so we look forward to engaging with any of you who are likewise fired up.

Imagination and skill are needed. But so is engaging in this love that does justice.

In this spirit we are honoured to accept this award on behalf of our members across Canada, who are investing every bit of themselves to help Monica as she dreams of making tomorrow better than yesterday.