Parker at an event in Burlington.
If you had asked me in January what lay behind the “Big Red Curtain” of the Ontario Liberal Party, I would have painted a picture of traditions enabled by a shadowy group of experienced Liberals. I imagined an organization where the machinery of the party hummed along, with a group of skilled partisans pulling levers, pressing buttons, and setting directions. I’ve since been ushered to the other side of that curtain, where imagination has become first-hand experience.
My year didn’t start behind the curtain, though. It started firmly on the periphery of the party, supporting my brother in his unsuccessful bid for the nomination in Burlington, co-leading the eventual campaign in Burlington to a razor thin result. The start of this year, at least in my partisan experiences, was ripe with disappointment and dissatisfaction. After losing that nomination and swallowing my pride to support the successful candidate — then losing that race in February in such dramatic fashion — I began to question my commitment to this party, and this party’s commitment to me. I felt unwelcome in my local provincial Liberal association, despite my work and contributions to it. It made me ask — who is behind that big red curtain? Do they even want me here? Would they even notice if I picked up my toys and left?
Standing here in December, an eventful 10 months later, I realize that the curtain wasn’t hiding a big red machine. There wasn’t a shadowy group of former parliamentarians, lawyers, staffers and partisans pulling the strings. Ultimately, there was a small group of people a lot like me. A group of executive councillors, a small number of staff, and a new ace-up-our-sleeve, the enigmatic Liberal Caucus Services Bureau.
In March, I tweeted about trying to organize around my vision for the OLP. Soon later, the budding New Leaf Liberals came to be. We are a grassroots and decentralized group of card-carrying Ontario Liberals looking for change. It started with a tweet, transformed into a petition and ended up being the spark that lit the flame of party renewal.
The road to September’s AGM was a lesson in grassroots organizing and the power of narrative. We were disrupting the status quo, and naturally, the status quo didn’t like it. I still keep screenshots of the anonymous quotes given to the press about us during that time.
My personal favourite:
“These guys couldn’t organize a game of monopoly.”
And the classic dismissal:
“By the end of the weekend they’ll be shown as what they are… A group of pissed off guys in a group chat.”
Reading those now, I can smile. Because what happened at the AGM wasn’t a tantrum; it was a testament to what happens when you lead with optimism and pragmatism. We were among the first to come out and say “we need to change course, and we need to be better”. We didn’t want to burn the house down; we proposed a significant renovation. We proved that a desire to do good — coupled with actual organizational hustle — goes a lot further than cynicism and the status quo. The “guys in a group chat” ended up changing the direction of our party for the better.
My sincere congratulations and thanks to everyone who helped make New Leaf a force of nature — too many to name here. Politics truly is a team sport. I got by with a lot of help from many friends. There was a significant risk involved in becoming a New Leafer; putting our figurative necks on the line. I’m forever glad to have had the support of so many — some of whom I had not previously known — along for the ride.
Transitioning from the “insurgent” role to a seat on the executive council was a shift. In the course of a weekend, I went from being the squeaky wheel on the outside, to finally having a seat at the table.
I had to learn the ropes while simultaneously trying to pull them in a different direction. I heard Dalton McGuinty say on a podcast this year that you have to be willing to “rock the boat.” That stuck with me, and is an attitude I’ve tried to keep while moving into this new role. I spent the first few weeks getting my bearings, understanding the constraints and learning how to operate within the machine. I may have ruffled some feathers — more on that below — but I’m convinced that this friction was an inevitability when moving so quickly and in such a different direction.
In 2025, my goal was to buck the trend. Kick the front door open, and keep it open for those behind me. The goal was to break the unwritten rules that say “we do it this way because we’ve always done it this way.” There were plenty of naysayers, but challenging authority isn't about disrespect; it’s about demanding better. It’s about creating a culture of excellence and accountability, and it’s about changing the status quo.
So, now that I’ve been given a set of reins: what do I do with them? To start, it’s focusing on campaign excellence.
Renewal isn’t just about the aspirational, high-level soul searching; it’s more about revising our practices and getting into the weeds. Going forward, my obsession is the gears of this party. We are focusing heavily on our provincial Liberal associations — the lifeblood of our ground game. I’m focused on getting our digital platforms connected and cleaned up, moving away from data silos and into a modern, data-driven, integrated system. In 2026, I’m committed to driving localized sustainable fundraising and events. I’m looking to create a pipeline of partisan talent — a farm team system — in a machine that is well-oiled, well-connected and built to be better whenever the writ drops.
It’s unglamorous stuff. It’s spreadsheets, emailers, pub nights, compliance, governance, fundraising and a shit-load of work. But, it is the difference between winning and losing. Team Toronto is going to reverse the trend, and if I’m successful, is going to elect more Liberal MPPs from the Big Smoke.
Of course, you can’t talk about 2025 without talking about the impending leadership race.
It has been a year of speculation, but I have been clear both inside the backrooms and out: we owe our members clarity. I have been pushing relentlessly for a defined timeline. Our members deserve to know the rules of the game so they can engage fully. I am hopeful — and pressing hard — to get concrete action on this before the end of the year. We need to move quickly and efficiently, to give our new leader, and our party, the time we need to retool and refocus. I’m of the firm view that we need to finish this leadership race by July 1, 2026. A new leader is not a silver bullet, but leadership is the most powerful lever we have to pull, and we shouldn’t delay.
As I said earlier, being the new guy on the block, I expected a bit of friction. I realize that pushing for a defined timeline and framework for the Leadership Vote Committee breaks with the tradition of a broader mandate. I successfully pushed for an official consultation with the provincial council and the general membership. Old habits and the old guard were never going to pack it in without protest. With time, and an open mind, I’m optimistic the naysayers will turn into proponents of this new vision for our party.
As we head into the new year, I am incredibly optimistic. I want to roll up my sleeves and get to work. I want to push our party, and our province, in a better direction.
New Leaf Liberals wasn't a one-time play; it was the planting of a seed. The work has only just started. Real renewal is not a sprint; it is playing the long game. It requires patience, thick skin and the willingness to be the one “rocking the boat” even when the water gets choppy.
Here’s to the work ahead, to the friends that have helped me along the way, and to the bright future of our party. If there’s one thing I can encourage you to learn from my raucous year — it’s to take a lesson from The Honourable Dalton McGuinty — go rock the boat.
Noah Parker, a regional vice-president for the Ontario Liberal Party, is also a co-founder of the New Leaf Liberals.
If you had asked me in January what lay behind the “Big Red Curtain” of the Ontario Liberal Party, I would have painted a picture of traditions enabled by a shadowy group of experienced Liberals. I imagined an organization where the machinery of the party hummed along, with a group of skilled partisans pulling levers, pressing buttons, and setting directions. I’ve since been ushered to the other side of that curtain, where imagination has become first-hand experience.
My year didn’t start behind the curtain, though. It started firmly on the periphery of the party, supporting my brother in his unsuccessful bid for the nomination in Burlington, co-leading the eventual campaign in Burlington to a razor thin result. The start of this year, at least in my partisan experiences, was ripe with disappointment and dissatisfaction. After losing that nomination and swallowing my pride to support the successful candidate — then losing that race in February in such dramatic fashion — I began to question my commitment to this party, and this party’s commitment to me. I felt unwelcome in my local provincial Liberal association, despite my work and contributions to it. It made me ask — who is behind that big red curtain? Do they even want me here? Would they even notice if I picked up my toys and left?
Standing here in December, an eventful 10 months later, I realize that the curtain wasn’t hiding a big red machine. There wasn’t a shadowy group of former parliamentarians, lawyers, staffers and partisans pulling the strings. Ultimately, there was a small group of people a lot like me. A group of executive councillors, a small number of staff, and a new ace-up-our-sleeve, the enigmatic Liberal Caucus Services Bureau.
In March, I tweeted about trying to organize around my vision for the OLP. Soon later, the budding New Leaf Liberals came to be. We are a grassroots and decentralized group of card-carrying Ontario Liberals looking for change. It started with a tweet, transformed into a petition and ended up being the spark that lit the flame of party renewal.
The road to September’s AGM was a lesson in grassroots organizing and the power of narrative. We were disrupting the status quo, and naturally, the status quo didn’t like it. I still keep screenshots of the anonymous quotes given to the press about us during that time.
My personal favourite:
“These guys couldn’t organize a game of monopoly.”
And the classic dismissal:
“By the end of the weekend they’ll be shown as what they are… A group of pissed off guys in a group chat.”
Reading those now, I can smile. Because what happened at the AGM wasn’t a tantrum; it was a testament to what happens when you lead with optimism and pragmatism. We were among the first to come out and say “we need to change course, and we need to be better”. We didn’t want to burn the house down; we proposed a significant renovation. We proved that a desire to do good — coupled with actual organizational hustle — goes a lot further than cynicism and the status quo. The “guys in a group chat” ended up changing the direction of our party for the better.
My sincere congratulations and thanks to everyone who helped make New Leaf a force of nature — too many to name here. Politics truly is a team sport. I got by with a lot of help from many friends. There was a significant risk involved in becoming a New Leafer; putting our figurative necks on the line. I’m forever glad to have had the support of so many — some of whom I had not previously known — along for the ride.
Transitioning from the “insurgent” role to a seat on the executive council was a shift. In the course of a weekend, I went from being the squeaky wheel on the outside, to finally having a seat at the table.
I had to learn the ropes while simultaneously trying to pull them in a different direction. I heard Dalton McGuinty say on a podcast this year that you have to be willing to “rock the boat.” That stuck with me, and is an attitude I’ve tried to keep while moving into this new role. I spent the first few weeks getting my bearings, understanding the constraints and learning how to operate within the machine. I may have ruffled some feathers — more on that below — but I’m convinced that this friction was an inevitability when moving so quickly and in such a different direction.
In 2025, my goal was to buck the trend. Kick the front door open, and keep it open for those behind me. The goal was to break the unwritten rules that say “we do it this way because we’ve always done it this way.” There were plenty of naysayers, but challenging authority isn't about disrespect; it’s about demanding better. It’s about creating a culture of excellence and accountability, and it’s about changing the status quo.
So, now that I’ve been given a set of reins: what do I do with them? To start, it’s focusing on campaign excellence.
Renewal isn’t just about the aspirational, high-level soul searching; it’s more about revising our practices and getting into the weeds. Going forward, my obsession is the gears of this party. We are focusing heavily on our provincial Liberal associations — the lifeblood of our ground game. I’m focused on getting our digital platforms connected and cleaned up, moving away from data silos and into a modern, data-driven, integrated system. In 2026, I’m committed to driving localized sustainable fundraising and events. I’m looking to create a pipeline of partisan talent — a farm team system — in a machine that is well-oiled, well-connected and built to be better whenever the writ drops.
It’s unglamorous stuff. It’s spreadsheets, emailers, pub nights, compliance, governance, fundraising and a shit-load of work. But, it is the difference between winning and losing. Team Toronto is going to reverse the trend, and if I’m successful, is going to elect more Liberal MPPs from the Big Smoke.
Of course, you can’t talk about 2025 without talking about the impending leadership race.
It has been a year of speculation, but I have been clear both inside the backrooms and out: we owe our members clarity. I have been pushing relentlessly for a defined timeline. Our members deserve to know the rules of the game so they can engage fully. I am hopeful — and pressing hard — to get concrete action on this before the end of the year. We need to move quickly and efficiently, to give our new leader, and our party, the time we need to retool and refocus. I’m of the firm view that we need to finish this leadership race by July 1, 2026. A new leader is not a silver bullet, but leadership is the most powerful lever we have to pull, and we shouldn’t delay.
As I said earlier, being the new guy on the block, I expected a bit of friction. I realize that pushing for a defined timeline and framework for the Leadership Vote Committee breaks with the tradition of a broader mandate. I successfully pushed for an official consultation with the provincial council and the general membership. Old habits and the old guard were never going to pack it in without protest. With time, and an open mind, I’m optimistic the naysayers will turn into proponents of this new vision for our party.
As we head into the new year, I am incredibly optimistic. I want to roll up my sleeves and get to work. I want to push our party, and our province, in a better direction.
New Leaf Liberals wasn't a one-time play; it was the planting of a seed. The work has only just started. Real renewal is not a sprint; it is playing the long game. It requires patience, thick skin and the willingness to be the one “rocking the boat” even when the water gets choppy.
Here’s to the work ahead, to the friends that have helped me along the way, and to the bright future of our party. If there’s one thing I can encourage you to learn from my raucous year — it’s to take a lesson from The Honourable Dalton McGuinty — go rock the boat.
Noah Parker, a regional vice-president for the Ontario Liberal Party, is also a co-founder of the New Leaf Liberals.
If you had asked me in January what lay behind the “Big Red Curtain” of the Ontario Liberal Party, I would have painted a picture of traditions enabled by a shadowy group of experienced Liberals. I imagined an organization where the machinery of the party hummed along, with a group of skilled partisans pulling levers, pressing buttons, and setting directions. I’ve since been ushered to the other side of that curtain, where imagination has become first-hand experience.
My year didn’t start behind the curtain, though. It started firmly on the periphery of the party, supporting my brother in his unsuccessful bid for the nomination in Burlington, co-leading the eventual campaign in Burlington to a razor thin result. The start of this year, at least in my partisan experiences, was ripe with disappointment and dissatisfaction. After losing that nomination and swallowing my pride to support the successful candidate — then losing that race in February in such dramatic fashion — I began to question my commitment to this party, and this party’s commitment to me. I felt unwelcome in my local provincial Liberal association, despite my work and contributions to it. It made me ask — who is behind that big red curtain? Do they even want me here? Would they even notice if I picked up my toys and left?
Standing here in December, an eventful 10 months later, I realize that the curtain wasn’t hiding a big red machine. There wasn’t a shadowy group of former parliamentarians, lawyers, staffers and partisans pulling the strings. Ultimately, there was a small group of people a lot like me. A group of executive councillors, a small number of staff, and a new ace-up-our-sleeve, the enigmatic Liberal Caucus Services Bureau.
In March, I tweeted about trying to organize around my vision for the OLP. Soon later, the budding New Leaf Liberals came to be. We are a grassroots and decentralized group of card-carrying Ontario Liberals looking for change. It started with a tweet, transformed into a petition and ended up being the spark that lit the flame of party renewal.
The road to September’s AGM was a lesson in grassroots organizing and the power of narrative. We were disrupting the status quo, and naturally, the status quo didn’t like it. I still keep screenshots of the anonymous quotes given to the press about us during that time.
My personal favourite:
“These guys couldn’t organize a game of monopoly.”
And the classic dismissal:
“By the end of the weekend they’ll be shown as what they are… A group of pissed off guys in a group chat.”
Reading those now, I can smile. Because what happened at the AGM wasn’t a tantrum; it was a testament to what happens when you lead with optimism and pragmatism. We were among the first to come out and say “we need to change course, and we need to be better”. We didn’t want to burn the house down; we proposed a significant renovation. We proved that a desire to do good — coupled with actual organizational hustle — goes a lot further than cynicism and the status quo. The “guys in a group chat” ended up changing the direction of our party for the better.
My sincere congratulations and thanks to everyone who helped make New Leaf a force of nature — too many to name here. Politics truly is a team sport. I got by with a lot of help from many friends. There was a significant risk involved in becoming a New Leafer; putting our figurative necks on the line. I’m forever glad to have had the support of so many — some of whom I had not previously known — along for the ride.
Transitioning from the “insurgent” role to a seat on the executive council was a shift. In the course of a weekend, I went from being the squeaky wheel on the outside, to finally having a seat at the table.
I had to learn the ropes while simultaneously trying to pull them in a different direction. I heard Dalton McGuinty say on a podcast this year that you have to be willing to “rock the boat.” That stuck with me, and is an attitude I’ve tried to keep while moving into this new role. I spent the first few weeks getting my bearings, understanding the constraints and learning how to operate within the machine. I may have ruffled some feathers — more on that below — but I’m convinced that this friction was an inevitability when moving so quickly and in such a different direction.
In 2025, my goal was to buck the trend. Kick the front door open, and keep it open for those behind me. The goal was to break the unwritten rules that say “we do it this way because we’ve always done it this way.” There were plenty of naysayers, but challenging authority isn't about disrespect; it’s about demanding better. It’s about creating a culture of excellence and accountability, and it’s about changing the status quo.
So, now that I’ve been given a set of reins: what do I do with them? To start, it’s focusing on campaign excellence.
Renewal isn’t just about the aspirational, high-level soul searching; it’s more about revising our practices and getting into the weeds. Going forward, my obsession is the gears of this party. We are focusing heavily on our provincial Liberal associations — the lifeblood of our ground game. I’m focused on getting our digital platforms connected and cleaned up, moving away from data silos and into a modern, data-driven, integrated system. In 2026, I’m committed to driving localized sustainable fundraising and events. I’m looking to create a pipeline of partisan talent — a farm team system — in a machine that is well-oiled, well-connected and built to be better whenever the writ drops.
It’s unglamorous stuff. It’s spreadsheets, emailers, pub nights, compliance, governance, fundraising and a shit-load of work. But, it is the difference between winning and losing. Team Toronto is going to reverse the trend, and if I’m successful, is going to elect more Liberal MPPs from the Big Smoke.
Of course, you can’t talk about 2025 without talking about the impending leadership race.
It has been a year of speculation, but I have been clear both inside the backrooms and out: we owe our members clarity. I have been pushing relentlessly for a defined timeline. Our members deserve to know the rules of the game so they can engage fully. I am hopeful — and pressing hard — to get concrete action on this before the end of the year. We need to move quickly and efficiently, to give our new leader, and our party, the time we need to retool and refocus. I’m of the firm view that we need to finish this leadership race by July 1, 2026. A new leader is not a silver bullet, but leadership is the most powerful lever we have to pull, and we shouldn’t delay.
As I said earlier, being the new guy on the block, I expected a bit of friction. I realize that pushing for a defined timeline and framework for the Leadership Vote Committee breaks with the tradition of a broader mandate. I successfully pushed for an official consultation with the provincial council and the general membership. Old habits and the old guard were never going to pack it in without protest. With time, and an open mind, I’m optimistic the naysayers will turn into proponents of this new vision for our party.
As we head into the new year, I am incredibly optimistic. I want to roll up my sleeves and get to work. I want to push our party, and our province, in a better direction.
New Leaf Liberals wasn't a one-time play; it was the planting of a seed. The work has only just started. Real renewal is not a sprint; it is playing the long game. It requires patience, thick skin and the willingness to be the one “rocking the boat” even when the water gets choppy.
Here’s to the work ahead, to the friends that have helped me along the way, and to the bright future of our party. If there’s one thing I can encourage you to learn from my raucous year — it’s to take a lesson from The Honourable Dalton McGuinty — go rock the boat.
Noah Parker, a regional vice-president for the Ontario Liberal Party, is also a co-founder of the New Leaf Liberals.
If you had asked me in January what lay behind the “Big Red Curtain” of the Ontario Liberal Party, I would have painted a picture of traditions enabled by a shadowy group of experienced Liberals. I imagined an organization where the machinery of the party hummed along, with a group of skilled partisans pulling levers, pressing buttons, and setting directions. I’ve since been ushered to the other side of that curtain, where imagination has become first-hand experience.
My year didn’t start behind the curtain, though. It started firmly on the periphery of the party, supporting my brother in his unsuccessful bid for the nomination in Burlington, co-leading the eventual campaign in Burlington to a razor thin result. The start of this year, at least in my partisan experiences, was ripe with disappointment and dissatisfaction. After losing that nomination and swallowing my pride to support the successful candidate — then losing that race in February in such dramatic fashion — I began to question my commitment to this party, and this party’s commitment to me. I felt unwelcome in my local provincial Liberal association, despite my work and contributions to it. It made me ask — who is behind that big red curtain? Do they even want me here? Would they even notice if I picked up my toys and left?
Standing here in December, an eventful 10 months later, I realize that the curtain wasn’t hiding a big red machine. There wasn’t a shadowy group of former parliamentarians, lawyers, staffers and partisans pulling the strings. Ultimately, there was a small group of people a lot like me. A group of executive councillors, a small number of staff, and a new ace-up-our-sleeve, the enigmatic Liberal Caucus Services Bureau.
In March, I tweeted about trying to organize around my vision for the OLP. Soon later, the budding New Leaf Liberals came to be. We are a grassroots and decentralized group of card-carrying Ontario Liberals looking for change. It started with a tweet, transformed into a petition and ended up being the spark that lit the flame of party renewal.
The road to September’s AGM was a lesson in grassroots organizing and the power of narrative. We were disrupting the status quo, and naturally, the status quo didn’t like it. I still keep screenshots of the anonymous quotes given to the press about us during that time.
My personal favourite:
“These guys couldn’t organize a game of monopoly.”
And the classic dismissal:
“By the end of the weekend they’ll be shown as what they are… A group of pissed off guys in a group chat.”
Reading those now, I can smile. Because what happened at the AGM wasn’t a tantrum; it was a testament to what happens when you lead with optimism and pragmatism. We were among the first to come out and say “we need to change course, and we need to be better”. We didn’t want to burn the house down; we proposed a significant renovation. We proved that a desire to do good — coupled with actual organizational hustle — goes a lot further than cynicism and the status quo. The “guys in a group chat” ended up changing the direction of our party for the better.
My sincere congratulations and thanks to everyone who helped make New Leaf a force of nature — too many to name here. Politics truly is a team sport. I got by with a lot of help from many friends. There was a significant risk involved in becoming a New Leafer; putting our figurative necks on the line. I’m forever glad to have had the support of so many — some of whom I had not previously known — along for the ride.
Transitioning from the “insurgent” role to a seat on the executive council was a shift. In the course of a weekend, I went from being the squeaky wheel on the outside, to finally having a seat at the table.
I had to learn the ropes while simultaneously trying to pull them in a different direction. I heard Dalton McGuinty say on a podcast this year that you have to be willing to “rock the boat.” That stuck with me, and is an attitude I’ve tried to keep while moving into this new role. I spent the first few weeks getting my bearings, understanding the constraints and learning how to operate within the machine. I may have ruffled some feathers — more on that below — but I’m convinced that this friction was an inevitability when moving so quickly and in such a different direction.
In 2025, my goal was to buck the trend. Kick the front door open, and keep it open for those behind me. The goal was to break the unwritten rules that say “we do it this way because we’ve always done it this way.” There were plenty of naysayers, but challenging authority isn't about disrespect; it’s about demanding better. It’s about creating a culture of excellence and accountability, and it’s about changing the status quo.
So, now that I’ve been given a set of reins: what do I do with them? To start, it’s focusing on campaign excellence.
Renewal isn’t just about the aspirational, high-level soul searching; it’s more about revising our practices and getting into the weeds. Going forward, my obsession is the gears of this party. We are focusing heavily on our provincial Liberal associations — the lifeblood of our ground game. I’m focused on getting our digital platforms connected and cleaned up, moving away from data silos and into a modern, data-driven, integrated system. In 2026, I’m committed to driving localized sustainable fundraising and events. I’m looking to create a pipeline of partisan talent — a farm team system — in a machine that is well-oiled, well-connected and built to be better whenever the writ drops.
It’s unglamorous stuff. It’s spreadsheets, emailers, pub nights, compliance, governance, fundraising and a shit-load of work. But, it is the difference between winning and losing. Team Toronto is going to reverse the trend, and if I’m successful, is going to elect more Liberal MPPs from the Big Smoke.
Of course, you can’t talk about 2025 without talking about the impending leadership race.
It has been a year of speculation, but I have been clear both inside the backrooms and out: we owe our members clarity. I have been pushing relentlessly for a defined timeline. Our members deserve to know the rules of the game so they can engage fully. I am hopeful — and pressing hard — to get concrete action on this before the end of the year. We need to move quickly and efficiently, to give our new leader, and our party, the time we need to retool and refocus. I’m of the firm view that we need to finish this leadership race by July 1, 2026. A new leader is not a silver bullet, but leadership is the most powerful lever we have to pull, and we shouldn’t delay.
As I said earlier, being the new guy on the block, I expected a bit of friction. I realize that pushing for a defined timeline and framework for the Leadership Vote Committee breaks with the tradition of a broader mandate. I successfully pushed for an official consultation with the provincial council and the general membership. Old habits and the old guard were never going to pack it in without protest. With time, and an open mind, I’m optimistic the naysayers will turn into proponents of this new vision for our party.
As we head into the new year, I am incredibly optimistic. I want to roll up my sleeves and get to work. I want to push our party, and our province, in a better direction.
New Leaf Liberals wasn't a one-time play; it was the planting of a seed. The work has only just started. Real renewal is not a sprint; it is playing the long game. It requires patience, thick skin and the willingness to be the one “rocking the boat” even when the water gets choppy.
Here’s to the work ahead, to the friends that have helped me along the way, and to the bright future of our party. If there’s one thing I can encourage you to learn from my raucous year — it’s to take a lesson from The Honourable Dalton McGuinty — go rock the boat.
Noah Parker, a regional vice-president for the Ontario Liberal Party, is also a co-founder of the New Leaf Liberals.
If you had asked me in January what lay behind the “Big Red Curtain” of the Ontario Liberal Party, I would have painted a picture of traditions enabled by a shadowy group of experienced Liberals. I imagined an organization where the machinery of the party hummed along, with a group of skilled partisans pulling levers, pressing buttons, and setting directions. I’ve since been ushered to the other side of that curtain, where imagination has become first-hand experience.
My year didn’t start behind the curtain, though. It started firmly on the periphery of the party, supporting my brother in his unsuccessful bid for the nomination in Burlington, co-leading the eventual campaign in Burlington to a razor thin result. The start of this year, at least in my partisan experiences, was ripe with disappointment and dissatisfaction. After losing that nomination and swallowing my pride to support the successful candidate — then losing that race in February in such dramatic fashion — I began to question my commitment to this party, and this party’s commitment to me. I felt unwelcome in my local provincial Liberal association, despite my work and contributions to it. It made me ask — who is behind that big red curtain? Do they even want me here? Would they even notice if I picked up my toys and left?
Standing here in December, an eventful 10 months later, I realize that the curtain wasn’t hiding a big red machine. There wasn’t a shadowy group of former parliamentarians, lawyers, staffers and partisans pulling the strings. Ultimately, there was a small group of people a lot like me. A group of executive councillors, a small number of staff, and a new ace-up-our-sleeve, the enigmatic Liberal Caucus Services Bureau.
In March, I tweeted about trying to organize around my vision for the OLP. Soon later, the budding New Leaf Liberals came to be. We are a grassroots and decentralized group of card-carrying Ontario Liberals looking for change. It started with a tweet, transformed into a petition and ended up being the spark that lit the flame of party renewal.
The road to September’s AGM was a lesson in grassroots organizing and the power of narrative. We were disrupting the status quo, and naturally, the status quo didn’t like it. I still keep screenshots of the anonymous quotes given to the press about us during that time.
My personal favourite:
“These guys couldn’t organize a game of monopoly.”
And the classic dismissal:
“By the end of the weekend they’ll be shown as what they are… A group of pissed off guys in a group chat.”
Reading those now, I can smile. Because what happened at the AGM wasn’t a tantrum; it was a testament to what happens when you lead with optimism and pragmatism. We were among the first to come out and say “we need to change course, and we need to be better”. We didn’t want to burn the house down; we proposed a significant renovation. We proved that a desire to do good — coupled with actual organizational hustle — goes a lot further than cynicism and the status quo. The “guys in a group chat” ended up changing the direction of our party for the better.
My sincere congratulations and thanks to everyone who helped make New Leaf a force of nature — too many to name here. Politics truly is a team sport. I got by with a lot of help from many friends. There was a significant risk involved in becoming a New Leafer; putting our figurative necks on the line. I’m forever glad to have had the support of so many — some of whom I had not previously known — along for the ride.
Transitioning from the “insurgent” role to a seat on the executive council was a shift. In the course of a weekend, I went from being the squeaky wheel on the outside, to finally having a seat at the table.
I had to learn the ropes while simultaneously trying to pull them in a different direction. I heard Dalton McGuinty say on a podcast this year that you have to be willing to “rock the boat.” That stuck with me, and is an attitude I’ve tried to keep while moving into this new role. I spent the first few weeks getting my bearings, understanding the constraints and learning how to operate within the machine. I may have ruffled some feathers — more on that below — but I’m convinced that this friction was an inevitability when moving so quickly and in such a different direction.
In 2025, my goal was to buck the trend. Kick the front door open, and keep it open for those behind me. The goal was to break the unwritten rules that say “we do it this way because we’ve always done it this way.” There were plenty of naysayers, but challenging authority isn't about disrespect; it’s about demanding better. It’s about creating a culture of excellence and accountability, and it’s about changing the status quo.
So, now that I’ve been given a set of reins: what do I do with them? To start, it’s focusing on campaign excellence.
Renewal isn’t just about the aspirational, high-level soul searching; it’s more about revising our practices and getting into the weeds. Going forward, my obsession is the gears of this party. We are focusing heavily on our provincial Liberal associations — the lifeblood of our ground game. I’m focused on getting our digital platforms connected and cleaned up, moving away from data silos and into a modern, data-driven, integrated system. In 2026, I’m committed to driving localized sustainable fundraising and events. I’m looking to create a pipeline of partisan talent — a farm team system — in a machine that is well-oiled, well-connected and built to be better whenever the writ drops.
It’s unglamorous stuff. It’s spreadsheets, emailers, pub nights, compliance, governance, fundraising and a shit-load of work. But, it is the difference between winning and losing. Team Toronto is going to reverse the trend, and if I’m successful, is going to elect more Liberal MPPs from the Big Smoke.
Of course, you can’t talk about 2025 without talking about the impending leadership race.
It has been a year of speculation, but I have been clear both inside the backrooms and out: we owe our members clarity. I have been pushing relentlessly for a defined timeline. Our members deserve to know the rules of the game so they can engage fully. I am hopeful — and pressing hard — to get concrete action on this before the end of the year. We need to move quickly and efficiently, to give our new leader, and our party, the time we need to retool and refocus. I’m of the firm view that we need to finish this leadership race by July 1, 2026. A new leader is not a silver bullet, but leadership is the most powerful lever we have to pull, and we shouldn’t delay.
As I said earlier, being the new guy on the block, I expected a bit of friction. I realize that pushing for a defined timeline and framework for the Leadership Vote Committee breaks with the tradition of a broader mandate. I successfully pushed for an official consultation with the provincial council and the general membership. Old habits and the old guard were never going to pack it in without protest. With time, and an open mind, I’m optimistic the naysayers will turn into proponents of this new vision for our party.
As we head into the new year, I am incredibly optimistic. I want to roll up my sleeves and get to work. I want to push our party, and our province, in a better direction.
New Leaf Liberals wasn't a one-time play; it was the planting of a seed. The work has only just started. Real renewal is not a sprint; it is playing the long game. It requires patience, thick skin and the willingness to be the one “rocking the boat” even when the water gets choppy.
Here’s to the work ahead, to the friends that have helped me along the way, and to the bright future of our party. If there’s one thing I can encourage you to learn from my raucous year — it’s to take a lesson from The Honourable Dalton McGuinty — go rock the boat.
Noah Parker, a regional vice-president for the Ontario Liberal Party, is also a co-founder of the New Leaf Liberals.
If you had asked me in January what lay behind the “Big Red Curtain” of the Ontario Liberal Party, I would have painted a picture of traditions enabled by a shadowy group of experienced Liberals. I imagined an organization where the machinery of the party hummed along, with a group of skilled partisans pulling levers, pressing buttons, and setting directions. I’ve since been ushered to the other side of that curtain, where imagination has become first-hand experience.
My year didn’t start behind the curtain, though. It started firmly on the periphery of the party, supporting my brother in his unsuccessful bid for the nomination in Burlington, co-leading the eventual campaign in Burlington to a razor thin result. The start of this year, at least in my partisan experiences, was ripe with disappointment and dissatisfaction. After losing that nomination and swallowing my pride to support the successful candidate — then losing that race in February in such dramatic fashion — I began to question my commitment to this party, and this party’s commitment to me. I felt unwelcome in my local provincial Liberal association, despite my work and contributions to it. It made me ask — who is behind that big red curtain? Do they even want me here? Would they even notice if I picked up my toys and left?
Standing here in December, an eventful 10 months later, I realize that the curtain wasn’t hiding a big red machine. There wasn’t a shadowy group of former parliamentarians, lawyers, staffers and partisans pulling the strings. Ultimately, there was a small group of people a lot like me. A group of executive councillors, a small number of staff, and a new ace-up-our-sleeve, the enigmatic Liberal Caucus Services Bureau.
In March, I tweeted about trying to organize around my vision for the OLP. Soon later, the budding New Leaf Liberals came to be. We are a grassroots and decentralized group of card-carrying Ontario Liberals looking for change. It started with a tweet, transformed into a petition and ended up being the spark that lit the flame of party renewal.
The road to September’s AGM was a lesson in grassroots organizing and the power of narrative. We were disrupting the status quo, and naturally, the status quo didn’t like it. I still keep screenshots of the anonymous quotes given to the press about us during that time.
My personal favourite:
“These guys couldn’t organize a game of monopoly.”
And the classic dismissal:
“By the end of the weekend they’ll be shown as what they are… A group of pissed off guys in a group chat.”
Reading those now, I can smile. Because what happened at the AGM wasn’t a tantrum; it was a testament to what happens when you lead with optimism and pragmatism. We were among the first to come out and say “we need to change course, and we need to be better”. We didn’t want to burn the house down; we proposed a significant renovation. We proved that a desire to do good — coupled with actual organizational hustle — goes a lot further than cynicism and the status quo. The “guys in a group chat” ended up changing the direction of our party for the better.
My sincere congratulations and thanks to everyone who helped make New Leaf a force of nature — too many to name here. Politics truly is a team sport. I got by with a lot of help from many friends. There was a significant risk involved in becoming a New Leafer; putting our figurative necks on the line. I’m forever glad to have had the support of so many — some of whom I had not previously known — along for the ride.
Transitioning from the “insurgent” role to a seat on the executive council was a shift. In the course of a weekend, I went from being the squeaky wheel on the outside, to finally having a seat at the table.
I had to learn the ropes while simultaneously trying to pull them in a different direction. I heard Dalton McGuinty say on a podcast this year that you have to be willing to “rock the boat.” That stuck with me, and is an attitude I’ve tried to keep while moving into this new role. I spent the first few weeks getting my bearings, understanding the constraints and learning how to operate within the machine. I may have ruffled some feathers — more on that below — but I’m convinced that this friction was an inevitability when moving so quickly and in such a different direction.
In 2025, my goal was to buck the trend. Kick the front door open, and keep it open for those behind me. The goal was to break the unwritten rules that say “we do it this way because we’ve always done it this way.” There were plenty of naysayers, but challenging authority isn't about disrespect; it’s about demanding better. It’s about creating a culture of excellence and accountability, and it’s about changing the status quo.
So, now that I’ve been given a set of reins: what do I do with them? To start, it’s focusing on campaign excellence.
Renewal isn’t just about the aspirational, high-level soul searching; it’s more about revising our practices and getting into the weeds. Going forward, my obsession is the gears of this party. We are focusing heavily on our provincial Liberal associations — the lifeblood of our ground game. I’m focused on getting our digital platforms connected and cleaned up, moving away from data silos and into a modern, data-driven, integrated system. In 2026, I’m committed to driving localized sustainable fundraising and events. I’m looking to create a pipeline of partisan talent — a farm team system — in a machine that is well-oiled, well-connected and built to be better whenever the writ drops.
It’s unglamorous stuff. It’s spreadsheets, emailers, pub nights, compliance, governance, fundraising and a shit-load of work. But, it is the difference between winning and losing. Team Toronto is going to reverse the trend, and if I’m successful, is going to elect more Liberal MPPs from the Big Smoke.
Of course, you can’t talk about 2025 without talking about the impending leadership race.
It has been a year of speculation, but I have been clear both inside the backrooms and out: we owe our members clarity. I have been pushing relentlessly for a defined timeline. Our members deserve to know the rules of the game so they can engage fully. I am hopeful — and pressing hard — to get concrete action on this before the end of the year. We need to move quickly and efficiently, to give our new leader, and our party, the time we need to retool and refocus. I’m of the firm view that we need to finish this leadership race by July 1, 2026. A new leader is not a silver bullet, but leadership is the most powerful lever we have to pull, and we shouldn’t delay.
As I said earlier, being the new guy on the block, I expected a bit of friction. I realize that pushing for a defined timeline and framework for the Leadership Vote Committee breaks with the tradition of a broader mandate. I successfully pushed for an official consultation with the provincial council and the general membership. Old habits and the old guard were never going to pack it in without protest. With time, and an open mind, I’m optimistic the naysayers will turn into proponents of this new vision for our party.
As we head into the new year, I am incredibly optimistic. I want to roll up my sleeves and get to work. I want to push our party, and our province, in a better direction.
New Leaf Liberals wasn't a one-time play; it was the planting of a seed. The work has only just started. Real renewal is not a sprint; it is playing the long game. It requires patience, thick skin and the willingness to be the one “rocking the boat” even when the water gets choppy.
Here’s to the work ahead, to the friends that have helped me along the way, and to the bright future of our party. If there’s one thing I can encourage you to learn from my raucous year — it’s to take a lesson from The Honourable Dalton McGuinty — go rock the boat.
Noah Parker, a regional vice-president for the Ontario Liberal Party, is also a co-founder of the New Leaf Liberals.
If you had asked me in January what lay behind the “Big Red Curtain” of the Ontario Liberal Party, I would have painted a picture of traditions enabled by a shadowy group of experienced Liberals. I imagined an organization where the machinery of the party hummed along, with a group of skilled partisans pulling levers, pressing buttons, and setting directions. I’ve since been ushered to the other side of that curtain, where imagination has become first-hand experience.
My year didn’t start behind the curtain, though. It started firmly on the periphery of the party, supporting my brother in his unsuccessful bid for the nomination in Burlington, co-leading the eventual campaign in Burlington to a razor thin result. The start of this year, at least in my partisan experiences, was ripe with disappointment and dissatisfaction. After losing that nomination and swallowing my pride to support the successful candidate — then losing that race in February in such dramatic fashion — I began to question my commitment to this party, and this party’s commitment to me. I felt unwelcome in my local provincial Liberal association, despite my work and contributions to it. It made me ask — who is behind that big red curtain? Do they even want me here? Would they even notice if I picked up my toys and left?
Standing here in December, an eventful 10 months later, I realize that the curtain wasn’t hiding a big red machine. There wasn’t a shadowy group of former parliamentarians, lawyers, staffers and partisans pulling the strings. Ultimately, there was a small group of people a lot like me. A group of executive councillors, a small number of staff, and a new ace-up-our-sleeve, the enigmatic Liberal Caucus Services Bureau.
In March, I tweeted about trying to organize around my vision for the OLP. Soon later, the budding New Leaf Liberals came to be. We are a grassroots and decentralized group of card-carrying Ontario Liberals looking for change. It started with a tweet, transformed into a petition and ended up being the spark that lit the flame of party renewal.
The road to September’s AGM was a lesson in grassroots organizing and the power of narrative. We were disrupting the status quo, and naturally, the status quo didn’t like it. I still keep screenshots of the anonymous quotes given to the press about us during that time.
My personal favourite:
“These guys couldn’t organize a game of monopoly.”
And the classic dismissal:
“By the end of the weekend they’ll be shown as what they are… A group of pissed off guys in a group chat.”
Reading those now, I can smile. Because what happened at the AGM wasn’t a tantrum; it was a testament to what happens when you lead with optimism and pragmatism. We were among the first to come out and say “we need to change course, and we need to be better”. We didn’t want to burn the house down; we proposed a significant renovation. We proved that a desire to do good — coupled with actual organizational hustle — goes a lot further than cynicism and the status quo. The “guys in a group chat” ended up changing the direction of our party for the better.
My sincere congratulations and thanks to everyone who helped make New Leaf a force of nature — too many to name here. Politics truly is a team sport. I got by with a lot of help from many friends. There was a significant risk involved in becoming a New Leafer; putting our figurative necks on the line. I’m forever glad to have had the support of so many — some of whom I had not previously known — along for the ride.
Transitioning from the “insurgent” role to a seat on the executive council was a shift. In the course of a weekend, I went from being the squeaky wheel on the outside, to finally having a seat at the table.
I had to learn the ropes while simultaneously trying to pull them in a different direction. I heard Dalton McGuinty say on a podcast this year that you have to be willing to “rock the boat.” That stuck with me, and is an attitude I’ve tried to keep while moving into this new role. I spent the first few weeks getting my bearings, understanding the constraints and learning how to operate within the machine. I may have ruffled some feathers — more on that below — but I’m convinced that this friction was an inevitability when moving so quickly and in such a different direction.
In 2025, my goal was to buck the trend. Kick the front door open, and keep it open for those behind me. The goal was to break the unwritten rules that say “we do it this way because we’ve always done it this way.” There were plenty of naysayers, but challenging authority isn't about disrespect; it’s about demanding better. It’s about creating a culture of excellence and accountability, and it’s about changing the status quo.
So, now that I’ve been given a set of reins: what do I do with them? To start, it’s focusing on campaign excellence.
Renewal isn’t just about the aspirational, high-level soul searching; it’s more about revising our practices and getting into the weeds. Going forward, my obsession is the gears of this party. We are focusing heavily on our provincial Liberal associations — the lifeblood of our ground game. I’m focused on getting our digital platforms connected and cleaned up, moving away from data silos and into a modern, data-driven, integrated system. In 2026, I’m committed to driving localized sustainable fundraising and events. I’m looking to create a pipeline of partisan talent — a farm team system — in a machine that is well-oiled, well-connected and built to be better whenever the writ drops.
It’s unglamorous stuff. It’s spreadsheets, emailers, pub nights, compliance, governance, fundraising and a shit-load of work. But, it is the difference between winning and losing. Team Toronto is going to reverse the trend, and if I’m successful, is going to elect more Liberal MPPs from the Big Smoke.
Of course, you can’t talk about 2025 without talking about the impending leadership race.
It has been a year of speculation, but I have been clear both inside the backrooms and out: we owe our members clarity. I have been pushing relentlessly for a defined timeline. Our members deserve to know the rules of the game so they can engage fully. I am hopeful — and pressing hard — to get concrete action on this before the end of the year. We need to move quickly and efficiently, to give our new leader, and our party, the time we need to retool and refocus. I’m of the firm view that we need to finish this leadership race by July 1, 2026. A new leader is not a silver bullet, but leadership is the most powerful lever we have to pull, and we shouldn’t delay.
As I said earlier, being the new guy on the block, I expected a bit of friction. I realize that pushing for a defined timeline and framework for the Leadership Vote Committee breaks with the tradition of a broader mandate. I successfully pushed for an official consultation with the provincial council and the general membership. Old habits and the old guard were never going to pack it in without protest. With time, and an open mind, I’m optimistic the naysayers will turn into proponents of this new vision for our party.
As we head into the new year, I am incredibly optimistic. I want to roll up my sleeves and get to work. I want to push our party, and our province, in a better direction.
New Leaf Liberals wasn't a one-time play; it was the planting of a seed. The work has only just started. Real renewal is not a sprint; it is playing the long game. It requires patience, thick skin and the willingness to be the one “rocking the boat” even when the water gets choppy.
Here’s to the work ahead, to the friends that have helped me along the way, and to the bright future of our party. If there’s one thing I can encourage you to learn from my raucous year — it’s to take a lesson from The Honourable Dalton McGuinty — go rock the boat.
Noah Parker, a regional vice-president for the Ontario Liberal Party, is also a co-founder of the New Leaf Liberals.
If you had asked me in January what lay behind the “Big Red Curtain” of the Ontario Liberal Party, I would have painted a picture of traditions enabled by a shadowy group of experienced Liberals. I imagined an organization where the machinery of the party hummed along, with a group of skilled partisans pulling levers, pressing buttons, and setting directions. I’ve since been ushered to the other side of that curtain, where imagination has become first-hand experience.
My year didn’t start behind the curtain, though. It started firmly on the periphery of the party, supporting my brother in his unsuccessful bid for the nomination in Burlington, co-leading the eventual campaign in Burlington to a razor thin result. The start of this year, at least in my partisan experiences, was ripe with disappointment and dissatisfaction. After losing that nomination and swallowing my pride to support the successful candidate — then losing that race in February in such dramatic fashion — I began to question my commitment to this party, and this party’s commitment to me. I felt unwelcome in my local provincial Liberal association, despite my work and contributions to it. It made me ask — who is behind that big red curtain? Do they even want me here? Would they even notice if I picked up my toys and left?
Standing here in December, an eventful 10 months later, I realize that the curtain wasn’t hiding a big red machine. There wasn’t a shadowy group of former parliamentarians, lawyers, staffers and partisans pulling the strings. Ultimately, there was a small group of people a lot like me. A group of executive councillors, a small number of staff, and a new ace-up-our-sleeve, the enigmatic Liberal Caucus Services Bureau.
In March, I tweeted about trying to organize around my vision for the OLP. Soon later, the budding New Leaf Liberals came to be. We are a grassroots and decentralized group of card-carrying Ontario Liberals looking for change. It started with a tweet, transformed into a petition and ended up being the spark that lit the flame of party renewal.
The road to September’s AGM was a lesson in grassroots organizing and the power of narrative. We were disrupting the status quo, and naturally, the status quo didn’t like it. I still keep screenshots of the anonymous quotes given to the press about us during that time.
My personal favourite:
“These guys couldn’t organize a game of monopoly.”
And the classic dismissal:
“By the end of the weekend they’ll be shown as what they are… A group of pissed off guys in a group chat.”
Reading those now, I can smile. Because what happened at the AGM wasn’t a tantrum; it was a testament to what happens when you lead with optimism and pragmatism. We were among the first to come out and say “we need to change course, and we need to be better”. We didn’t want to burn the house down; we proposed a significant renovation. We proved that a desire to do good — coupled with actual organizational hustle — goes a lot further than cynicism and the status quo. The “guys in a group chat” ended up changing the direction of our party for the better.
My sincere congratulations and thanks to everyone who helped make New Leaf a force of nature — too many to name here. Politics truly is a team sport. I got by with a lot of help from many friends. There was a significant risk involved in becoming a New Leafer; putting our figurative necks on the line. I’m forever glad to have had the support of so many — some of whom I had not previously known — along for the ride.
Transitioning from the “insurgent” role to a seat on the executive council was a shift. In the course of a weekend, I went from being the squeaky wheel on the outside, to finally having a seat at the table.
I had to learn the ropes while simultaneously trying to pull them in a different direction. I heard Dalton McGuinty say on a podcast this year that you have to be willing to “rock the boat.” That stuck with me, and is an attitude I’ve tried to keep while moving into this new role. I spent the first few weeks getting my bearings, understanding the constraints and learning how to operate within the machine. I may have ruffled some feathers — more on that below — but I’m convinced that this friction was an inevitability when moving so quickly and in such a different direction.
In 2025, my goal was to buck the trend. Kick the front door open, and keep it open for those behind me. The goal was to break the unwritten rules that say “we do it this way because we’ve always done it this way.” There were plenty of naysayers, but challenging authority isn't about disrespect; it’s about demanding better. It’s about creating a culture of excellence and accountability, and it’s about changing the status quo.
So, now that I’ve been given a set of reins: what do I do with them? To start, it’s focusing on campaign excellence.
Renewal isn’t just about the aspirational, high-level soul searching; it’s more about revising our practices and getting into the weeds. Going forward, my obsession is the gears of this party. We are focusing heavily on our provincial Liberal associations — the lifeblood of our ground game. I’m focused on getting our digital platforms connected and cleaned up, moving away from data silos and into a modern, data-driven, integrated system. In 2026, I’m committed to driving localized sustainable fundraising and events. I’m looking to create a pipeline of partisan talent — a farm team system — in a machine that is well-oiled, well-connected and built to be better whenever the writ drops.
It’s unglamorous stuff. It’s spreadsheets, emailers, pub nights, compliance, governance, fundraising and a shit-load of work. But, it is the difference between winning and losing. Team Toronto is going to reverse the trend, and if I’m successful, is going to elect more Liberal MPPs from the Big Smoke.
Of course, you can’t talk about 2025 without talking about the impending leadership race.
It has been a year of speculation, but I have been clear both inside the backrooms and out: we owe our members clarity. I have been pushing relentlessly for a defined timeline. Our members deserve to know the rules of the game so they can engage fully. I am hopeful — and pressing hard — to get concrete action on this before the end of the year. We need to move quickly and efficiently, to give our new leader, and our party, the time we need to retool and refocus. I’m of the firm view that we need to finish this leadership race by July 1, 2026. A new leader is not a silver bullet, but leadership is the most powerful lever we have to pull, and we shouldn’t delay.
As I said earlier, being the new guy on the block, I expected a bit of friction. I realize that pushing for a defined timeline and framework for the Leadership Vote Committee breaks with the tradition of a broader mandate. I successfully pushed for an official consultation with the provincial council and the general membership. Old habits and the old guard were never going to pack it in without protest. With time, and an open mind, I’m optimistic the naysayers will turn into proponents of this new vision for our party.
As we head into the new year, I am incredibly optimistic. I want to roll up my sleeves and get to work. I want to push our party, and our province, in a better direction.
New Leaf Liberals wasn't a one-time play; it was the planting of a seed. The work has only just started. Real renewal is not a sprint; it is playing the long game. It requires patience, thick skin and the willingness to be the one “rocking the boat” even when the water gets choppy.
Here’s to the work ahead, to the friends that have helped me along the way, and to the bright future of our party. If there’s one thing I can encourage you to learn from my raucous year — it’s to take a lesson from The Honourable Dalton McGuinty — go rock the boat.
Noah Parker, a regional vice-president for the Ontario Liberal Party, is also a co-founder of the New Leaf Liberals.
If you had asked me in January what lay behind the “Big Red Curtain” of the Ontario Liberal Party, I would have painted a picture of traditions enabled by a shadowy group of experienced Liberals. I imagined an organization where the machinery of the party hummed along, with a group of skilled partisans pulling levers, pressing buttons, and setting directions. I’ve since been ushered to the other side of that curtain, where imagination has become first-hand experience.
My year didn’t start behind the curtain, though. It started firmly on the periphery of the party, supporting my brother in his unsuccessful bid for the nomination in Burlington, co-leading the eventual campaign in Burlington to a razor thin result. The start of this year, at least in my partisan experiences, was ripe with disappointment and dissatisfaction. After losing that nomination and swallowing my pride to support the successful candidate — then losing that race in February in such dramatic fashion — I began to question my commitment to this party, and this party’s commitment to me. I felt unwelcome in my local provincial Liberal association, despite my work and contributions to it. It made me ask — who is behind that big red curtain? Do they even want me here? Would they even notice if I picked up my toys and left?
Standing here in December, an eventful 10 months later, I realize that the curtain wasn’t hiding a big red machine. There wasn’t a shadowy group of former parliamentarians, lawyers, staffers and partisans pulling the strings. Ultimately, there was a small group of people a lot like me. A group of executive councillors, a small number of staff, and a new ace-up-our-sleeve, the enigmatic Liberal Caucus Services Bureau.
In March, I tweeted about trying to organize around my vision for the OLP. Soon later, the budding New Leaf Liberals came to be. We are a grassroots and decentralized group of card-carrying Ontario Liberals looking for change. It started with a tweet, transformed into a petition and ended up being the spark that lit the flame of party renewal.
The road to September’s AGM was a lesson in grassroots organizing and the power of narrative. We were disrupting the status quo, and naturally, the status quo didn’t like it. I still keep screenshots of the anonymous quotes given to the press about us during that time.
My personal favourite:
“These guys couldn’t organize a game of monopoly.”
And the classic dismissal:
“By the end of the weekend they’ll be shown as what they are… A group of pissed off guys in a group chat.”
Reading those now, I can smile. Because what happened at the AGM wasn’t a tantrum; it was a testament to what happens when you lead with optimism and pragmatism. We were among the first to come out and say “we need to change course, and we need to be better”. We didn’t want to burn the house down; we proposed a significant renovation. We proved that a desire to do good — coupled with actual organizational hustle — goes a lot further than cynicism and the status quo. The “guys in a group chat” ended up changing the direction of our party for the better.
My sincere congratulations and thanks to everyone who helped make New Leaf a force of nature — too many to name here. Politics truly is a team sport. I got by with a lot of help from many friends. There was a significant risk involved in becoming a New Leafer; putting our figurative necks on the line. I’m forever glad to have had the support of so many — some of whom I had not previously known — along for the ride.
Transitioning from the “insurgent” role to a seat on the executive council was a shift. In the course of a weekend, I went from being the squeaky wheel on the outside, to finally having a seat at the table.
I had to learn the ropes while simultaneously trying to pull them in a different direction. I heard Dalton McGuinty say on a podcast this year that you have to be willing to “rock the boat.” That stuck with me, and is an attitude I’ve tried to keep while moving into this new role. I spent the first few weeks getting my bearings, understanding the constraints and learning how to operate within the machine. I may have ruffled some feathers — more on that below — but I’m convinced that this friction was an inevitability when moving so quickly and in such a different direction.
In 2025, my goal was to buck the trend. Kick the front door open, and keep it open for those behind me. The goal was to break the unwritten rules that say “we do it this way because we’ve always done it this way.” There were plenty of naysayers, but challenging authority isn't about disrespect; it’s about demanding better. It’s about creating a culture of excellence and accountability, and it’s about changing the status quo.
So, now that I’ve been given a set of reins: what do I do with them? To start, it’s focusing on campaign excellence.
Renewal isn’t just about the aspirational, high-level soul searching; it’s more about revising our practices and getting into the weeds. Going forward, my obsession is the gears of this party. We are focusing heavily on our provincial Liberal associations — the lifeblood of our ground game. I’m focused on getting our digital platforms connected and cleaned up, moving away from data silos and into a modern, data-driven, integrated system. In 2026, I’m committed to driving localized sustainable fundraising and events. I’m looking to create a pipeline of partisan talent — a farm team system — in a machine that is well-oiled, well-connected and built to be better whenever the writ drops.
It’s unglamorous stuff. It’s spreadsheets, emailers, pub nights, compliance, governance, fundraising and a shit-load of work. But, it is the difference between winning and losing. Team Toronto is going to reverse the trend, and if I’m successful, is going to elect more Liberal MPPs from the Big Smoke.
Of course, you can’t talk about 2025 without talking about the impending leadership race.
It has been a year of speculation, but I have been clear both inside the backrooms and out: we owe our members clarity. I have been pushing relentlessly for a defined timeline. Our members deserve to know the rules of the game so they can engage fully. I am hopeful — and pressing hard — to get concrete action on this before the end of the year. We need to move quickly and efficiently, to give our new leader, and our party, the time we need to retool and refocus. I’m of the firm view that we need to finish this leadership race by July 1, 2026. A new leader is not a silver bullet, but leadership is the most powerful lever we have to pull, and we shouldn’t delay.
As I said earlier, being the new guy on the block, I expected a bit of friction. I realize that pushing for a defined timeline and framework for the Leadership Vote Committee breaks with the tradition of a broader mandate. I successfully pushed for an official consultation with the provincial council and the general membership. Old habits and the old guard were never going to pack it in without protest. With time, and an open mind, I’m optimistic the naysayers will turn into proponents of this new vision for our party.
As we head into the new year, I am incredibly optimistic. I want to roll up my sleeves and get to work. I want to push our party, and our province, in a better direction.
New Leaf Liberals wasn't a one-time play; it was the planting of a seed. The work has only just started. Real renewal is not a sprint; it is playing the long game. It requires patience, thick skin and the willingness to be the one “rocking the boat” even when the water gets choppy.
Here’s to the work ahead, to the friends that have helped me along the way, and to the bright future of our party. If there’s one thing I can encourage you to learn from my raucous year — it’s to take a lesson from The Honourable Dalton McGuinty — go rock the boat.
Noah Parker, a regional vice-president for the Ontario Liberal Party, is also a co-founder of the New Leaf Liberals.