Québec Solidaire has decided that Manon Massé will run for premier in October. Massé is a life-long community activist who represents the Montreal riding of Sainte Marie-Saint Jacques.

The decision shouldn’t surprise QS members, but it did surprise many mainstream commentators who thought that Gabriel Nadeau-Dubois would fill this role. His charm and look make him an ideal, if not also obvious candidate to run for premier.

Massé is a jewel. She’s an anti-politician. She’s a beacon. She shows us that you can remain true to who you are while also existing in the shitty world of electoral politics. She effectively marries activism and partisan politics. And, what I love most about her, she’s so normal.

Politics is a man’s world. Despite the activism of women for years, from denouncements of sexual assault, to trailblazing women legislators, politics stubbornly remains a giant, filthy man cave. That stinks like farts and booze. Where, upon entering the Halls of Power, anyone who isn’t of the elite classes can feel their skin crawling towards their ears to gently whisper: this place is not for you. Some people will hear that echoed externally, by men who look at women, racialized, queer, poor and/or disabled people and state openly: you don’t belong here.

Manon: from her long hair to her leather vests, from her moustache to her keffiyeh — her very presence replies to those external voices with a resounding: “I’m taking this space and buddy, you better watch out.”

The Manon effect was on full display in an interview with Denis Lévesque, a talk-show host on LCN, a TVA news channel. Lévesque’s second question (after the obligatory: who is Manon Massé?) was about her appearance. Citing random people’s comments, Lévesque asked Massé to respond to the claim that she doesn’t look right, that she doesn’t have an “adequate image” to be premier of the province.

Manon Massé

Massé responds by arguing that locally and globally, people are rejecting politics as usual: that people want someone who looks like them, not like a politician. She references a message she got from someone who said that despite prejudices he’s held, Massé’s message has convinced him to vote for QS. Lévesque asks the question several more times, including whether or not Massé is keeping her look to be a discussion point: she could get a stylish hair cut or a makeover, for example!

Manon Massé

“The important thing is that people listen to me. … There’s no such thing as the Barbie and Ken model” she replies. Lévesque then posts an image from Massé’s website; a young Manon on a motorcycle, and he asks her what image he wants to project with this.



Massé keeps bringing the message back to her political outlook, or the program of QS.

What I find so interesting about this exchange is the distance between what appears on screen and what is spoken. Massé isn’t remarkable in her appearance. At all. She looks like women who I ride the bus with, or who I pass on the street. She looks like someone’s aunt. She might own an alternative bookstore; she near certainly gardens. But to listen to Lévesque, it’s as if she has three safety pins through her nose, half her head shaved and her eyebrows dyed pink (which would all, also, be a fully great look for a politician to have). This, coming from a man who is equally unremarkable in his looks: boring, average, middle-aged white guy, is the most perplexing.

Denis Lévesque

The message is clear: women who enter politics must fit a rigid mold, imagined and viciously enforced by mediocre men who have too much power for no compelling reason. Our current premier looks like a giant thumb. The leader of the CAQ looks like a tree trunk. The leader of the PQ looks like a baby turtle. But the thumb, the tree trunk and the baby turtle are normal. They never need to respond to the Lévesques of the world about why they look so plain, so coiffed, so groomed, so matted, so boringly average and so on. The all-natural woman cannot hope to be in this special club, even if she decided to get a stylish cut, a makeover, dropped 25 pounds, lopped off her right ear and cut off her feet (because it made the shoes fit better).

Massé’s roots in social movement organizing, her authenticity and her proximity to power make her the most important progressive politician right now. She represents hope for a new era; for average people to get into important political roles. Regardless of how she does, she’s already won so much.

Political forces in Quebec are moving in such a way that the results for October’s election is anyone’s guess: the CAQ is sitting atop the polls despite never having held government, and the Liberals and PQ are in a backslide that may or may not reverse in time to make election gains. It would be an upset for QS, with its three deputies, to win, but it’s not impossible. Before the first PQ government, that party only held six seats at the National Assembly.

Lévesque’s interview with Massé is a glimpse into how the corporate media will treat Massé’s candidacy between now and October. And I’m like: great. Bring it. Every time a boring, average-looking white guy challenges Massé for having long hair or looking like an average older woman, an angel surely gets their wings.