Recovering Political Candidate: Steep Cost and Sacrifices

Giselle assembling lawn signs for the 2021 election campaign.

By: Giselle General

I suppose it’s kind of strange that I’m continuing the name of these series as “Recovering Political Candidate” given that I am running again. There’s already two posts I made as part of this series:

Then again, it feels like while I’m embarking on one, I’m still recovering from the previous one, unpacking all the things I’ve experienced and observed. Time gives perspective as they say, and going through the same experience again, I suppose this time for me, with four years of maturity, sheds things in a different light.

When people think about running for office, they often imagine debates, door-knocking, and campaign signs. But what most don’t see—and what few openly talk about—are the financial, professional, and emotional costs of stepping into the political arena. For those of us who come from working-class, immigrant, or marginalized communities, these costs aren’t just inconvenient. They’re systemic barriers.

As someone who immigrated to Canada as a child and became the first in my family to graduate from a Canadian university, I’ve experienced the unspoken challenges of trying to “break in” to political spaces while navigating real-life survival. I didn’t grow up around people who ran for office. My relatives didn’t work white-collar jobs or attend Chamber of Commerce lunches. Like many others, I was figuring it out as I went—sometimes fumbling, sometimes scraping by, always learning.

When I ran for City Council in 2021, I had to keep working full-time in the spring and summer with two months off full-time campaigning.

A time-tracking table. Each half-hour  for every day of the week is represented by one cell on the table. Times are color-coded as follows: Sleep, Personal Care, Meals, Chores, Commute to Work. Work. Family/ Friends social time. About 30 hours is not color-coded, representing the maximum hours that can be spent theoretically, on the election campaign.
I wondered what the true difference between a candidate who is campaigning full time compared to someone who is doing it after work. And it’s all the green blocks here, about extra 30 – 40 hours every week. That’s why I can’t help but wonder, even I’m technically adding more, would three months of full-time campaigning be enough?

I banked my vacation days and carefully budgeted unpaid leave. Not because I had the luxury to, but because I couldn’t afford to stop earning income. I later learned that many candidates take months off entirely, living off savings or family support. I didn’t have that option then.

In this second run, I’ve come to see just how many “norms” in local politics are built around people with financial privilege, professional networks, or flexible lifestyles. Here are just a few examples of the hidden costs:

Visibility Comes with a Price Tag

Being “present” at the right events such as fundraisers, business luncheons, galas, is often seen as a sign of seriousness. But tickets can cost $50 to $200 or more. Even free events often expect donations. Most happen during the workday, which means using time off or risking your job. And for women, racialized folks, and those with specific appearance pressures, just showing up polished and prepared costs time and money.

Running While Working Can Break You

There’s a quiet expectation that serious candidates go on leave to campaign full-time. But unpaid leave means lost income, and not everyone can afford that. Some of us push through by working during the day and campaigning at night, leading to exhaustion, burnout, or even injury. This is a real and unsustainable cost.

In 2021, my husband and I decided that I will never compromise on my sleep (so no all-nighters) that he will not be deeply involved in the campaign so we have a semblance of a healthy home life, and that the financial cost of taking a bit more time off work is worth it. We are hoping it will help prevent permanent injuries or trauma.

Starting Up A Campaign Isn’t Free

Even a modest campaign needs branding, a website, photos, flyers, signs. Unless you’re fundraising from day one or have wealthy donors ready to go, those expenses fall on you. There’s also pressure to appear “professional” which means a slick logo, high-quality materials, a polished online presence. That’s because anything less may be judged as unprepared or unserious.

While I’m re-using many supplies form 2021, I know if I don’t freshen up my style, it will be outdated and out of touch. There are many more cool apps and tools that help make things more efficient, and many are subscription based that can stack up if not kept in check.

Who You Know Matters – Much More Than Anticipated

I’ve spent years volunteering, organizing, and serving on boards, but I’ve also learned that social capital doesn’t always translate into campaign capital. Recognition and legitimacy are often reserved for those already plugged into elite circles or political dynasties. Meanwhile, working-class and immigrant leaders are often asked to “prove” themselves for years—often invisibly—before being seen as viable.

As a simple example, through my community service I knew of about 5 executive directors or CEO-level people from nonprofits. If many of them decline to publicly endorse me because of repercussions at their job, the list runs out pretty quickly. While someone with deeper networks and connections, whether it is because they had parents who are still alive and able, or who were also are politically connected, had a profession that already has a certain prestige assigned to it, or had lived in the area for much longer, the odds are definitely in their favour.

Where Campaign Schools Fit In

One thing that has been incredibly valuable to me has been participating in campaign schools—local and national programs designed to help women learn the basics of running for office. I’ve attended several, and I always leave feeling inspired and energized. They offer toolkits, checklists, and often a sense of solidarity that’s hard to find elsewhere. Being in a room full of women determined to lead and make a difference is powerful.

But for those just starting out, what’s offered in these programs is maybe 5% of what’s truly needed to launch a viable, well-resourced campaign. Turning that initial spark into a full campaign with traction, momentum, and infrastructure is a whole other challenge—especially if you don’t already have access to wealth, political connections, or campaign professionals.

That’s why these programs must not just continue—they need to grow. Campaign schools and women-in-politics initiatives should be more robust, more practical, and more deeply connected to the realities that many of us face: holding down full-time jobs, navigating care responsibilities, or entering spaces where people don’t expect someone like you to lead. We need to move from inspiration to implementation, and that takes sustained, tangible support.

What now?

This isn’t just my story. It’s a structural pattern. Politics in Canada, even at the local level, often functions as a gated space. Those gates aren’t always locked, but they are weighed down by money, time, and access. And the reality is, people from communities like mine often pay the price just to stand in the same room.

But here’s what I’ve learned: knowing these barriers doesn’t make me cynical—it makes me even more committed to change. Because if we want a city that’s truly inclusive, we need a political system that supports everyday people stepping into leadership.

That means:

  • Talking openly about the financial and emotional costs of candidacy.
  • Supporting candidates not just with votes, but with practical help—rides, printing, graphic design, donations, and more.
  • Reimagining what political legitimacy looks like, so it’s not based on your job title, who you golf with, or shared tables at a fancy gala, but your service to your community.

I’m still learning, healing, and unlearning as I go—just like many others. The journey of immigration, trauma, and over-responsibility doesn’t disappear when you run for office. But neither does the strength and wisdom that comes from living through it.

So if you’re thinking of running someday, or if you’re supporting someone who is: know that it’s okay to ask for help. To name the barriers. To build slowly and strategically, even if you don’t have all the traditional tools.

The more of us who show up authentically, the more we change what “leadership” looks like in this city.

I’m still willing to spill the tea!

And I’ve offered this before and I will emphasize it again. If you are interested in running for politics and wanted to know how it really looks like for someone who was described as marginalized, underdog, non-conventional candidate, who is an everyday worker and attempted to do this in 2021, I’m willing to tell it all. While scheduling might be trickier because I have to hustle even more to make up for what I’m lacking, I’m willing to share the numbers, the details of the years of planning, the financial and family decisions, the spreadsheets and timelines I aimed for, I reached and I missed. Talk to me, and I will share the real deal of my experiences. Not to scare people off, but to be more equipped.

Recovering Political Candidate: What I wish I Knew

By: Giselle General

Sometime in December 2023, I was contacted by a researcher who is working on a paper asking for the financial barriers faced by women running for public office. Did she ever find the right person willing to talk and vent about this very topic! I was connected to her through a national organization that aims to encourage women to run for public office.

I shared what I knew and gave so much more information that the questions she outlined in her 3-page questionnaire. I truly hoped I didn’t sound too grouchy when I explained all the potential barriers, both ones I experienced personally and broader patterns I’ve observed.

Despite the fact that my candidacy was coming up to three years ago, I remember many things that I wished were more clear during the campaign workshops and campaign toolkits that I accessed between 2017 – 2021.

So here is a short list of what I wish I knew.

  • About the “social etiquette” in Canada, Alberta, and Edmonton when it comes to door-knocking. I didn’t feel confident enough to reassure volunteers on how to handle different types of situations such as homes having no mailboxes, the “no soliciting” signs, entering gates and how long to wait at the doors.
  • How to handle conversations with one’s employer on handling things such as time off, salary and using vacation days and reputation management for the workplace. I think I handled it okay, but if I had more information I would have been less terrified.
  • The range of options on how to handle the election campaign with family members.
  • Exercise routines to help manage pain and soreness from walking, standing a long time, using mobility aids (like my walking cane) for a long time, hand care (from knocking on all the doors), and more.
  • Personal finance budgeting once the motivation to run is there. This includes saving for money for taking time off from work to do campaigning full time, money to initially fund election expenses, budgeting some extras that may be needed such as replacement shoes, therapy appointments, pens, umbrellas, or takeout food.
  • Options for campaign finances, as in ideas of what a low-budget, medium-budget, and a high-budget campaign can potentially look like, as it took me too long to decide whether I should get one digital billboard or one bus bench.
  • Tips and tricks to coordinate with landlords to connect with apartment residents, as this process also took a lot of time coordinating while being afraid I might be somehow breaking some election rule that I was never aware of.

I will likely talk about this more in future posts. In the meantime, I eagerly look forward to the research publication talking about this topic.

Everyday people that wanted to participate in the political discourse in this very important way should feel confident in their ability to do a decent job. They should not feel demoralized by obstacles that seem systemic in nature.

To conclude, here’s the copy of the post I wrote for the Alberta Filipino Journal back in 2021 during the beginning of the actual campaign.

General Point of View: Trailblazing and Smashing Ceilings – The Journey of a First-Time Elections Candidate

By: Giselle General, April 2021

This election candidacy is a journey five years in the making.  Here is a reflection on my experiences as of this date as someone running for the first time.

A main challenge is informing people on different topics. There are many issues that affect our daily lives, and it can be difficult to remember which level of government is responsible. On top of that, there are issues that are a shared responsibility between the municipal, provincial and federal government. So it is important for me, my campaign team, and other candidates to be informed and patient when discussing with others.

The electoral district boundaries not only changed in composition, but also the names have changed. They are changed from numbers to Indigenous names. I think the names are beautiful and meaningful, but many are frustrated and unwilling to learn. I can personally attest that all it takes is practice, just like learning Asian geography back in high school. After a few rounds of practice, I can confidently say without missing a beat that “I am running for city councillor for West Edmonton, the ward of sipiwiyiniwak!” Those in ward Dene and O-day’min will have an easier time, while those in ward Ipiihkoohkanipiaohtsi would need to practice a few more times.  

I found out that apartments and condo buildings are usually ignored by campaign teams. I found this shocking and unacceptable! Because most apartment buildings are rentals, this means that many people who are not homeowners and from lower economic background are not given the same opportunity by election candidates to share their thoughts about political matters. No wonder the voter turnout in municipal elections is only 30%. Like a spark that ignited in me, I felt a fierce sense of determination to go against the tide and find ways to connect with people living in higher-density places. I hope that landlords and building managers would cooperate with my campaign team so we can engage with residents effectively and safely.  

A harsh and true advice I received was “you need a lot of money”. And I don’t have a lot. I feel motivated to find creative ways to compensate for the shortage of money, and fun ways to raise money and support. From virtual dance-a-thons as a fundraiser, using social media for marketing instead of spending money on billboards, and asking volunteers to drop off brochures instead of paying Canada post thousands of dollars, the ideas seem to be endless. Necessity is the mother of invention as they say, and I’m excited to find innovative ways to connect with potential voters and supporters. I hope that I get hundreds of volunteers from all walks of life, and that even those who cannot vote yet, the newcomers and under 18 years old, feel inclined to join the campaign team as well.  

The election day is in October, and given how time feels like it’s slipping through our fingers, it will be here before we even realize it. All the spare time I have, between breakfast and starting work, between dinner and bedtime, between laundry and cooking on the weekends, are occupied by the seemingly endless tasks to gain more resources, to recruiting volunteers, to ensuring we consult with people with different perspective. Door-knocking officially starts in May and I’m eagerly looking at the calendar counting down the time.  

I am excited to be transformed by this experience. I suppose, turning 30 years old this year also highlights the significance of this adventure. I’d love to win of course, but it’s more that that. My hope is that I am just one of the many people from under-represented backgrounds, of the women, the young adults, the migrants and the Filipinos who would take the leap and throw their name in an election race. I hope that my experience can serve as inspiration and a resource guide in navigating an election candidacy that appropriately considers the complications that arise from our lived experiences. If I don’t end up being that trailblazer, I hope that someone else does not too long after I run.  

Two Small and Impactful Gestures of Two (Former) City Councillors

This time around I am going to publicly name two politicians for what they have done! What a timely post shortly after one year since the most recent municipal elections here in Edmonton.

Cue scary noises!

Actually, I’m just joking, really!

I think it helps that they are both former former city councilors, but either way, I am actually actually not naming them and shaming them. I’m naming them because yes, I think they probably won’t even remember doing these two things at all. These seem to be very small gestures but had really impacted the way I look at things here in the city where I live, and had shifted my life in a very noticeable way. It is a positive impact – no shaming will be happening here.

First is former City Councillor Scott McKeen, who represented Ward 6, downtown Edmonton. He was pretty active in his social media accounts, and I followed his Twitter account to stay up to date with city politics. One day, he re-tweeted about a Repair-a-thon event a few days before it was about to happen. I like sewing, fixing things up and making them usable again. This event is an opportunity for people to get everyday items and clothing repaired, and people can volunteer their skills to help get these stuff fixed up. Because of a scheduling conflict and the fact I just found out about it a few days before the weekend, I cannot make it and I was pretty upset. I could have helped patch up clothes, sew back buttons and fix hems on shirts and bottoms. At the time, I already figured that Home Economics is not a a typical part of the curriculum for children here, so many don’t have the skills to do simple repairs with clothing, household objects or electronics.

From seeing this event being promoted, I also discovered a Twitter account called Boomerang Bags Edmonton. It is very much related to sewing and upcycling. The goals is to get volunteers to sew fabric shopping bags that can be re-used as opposed to single-use plastic bags, and donate them to local stores so they can encourage customers to use them instead of buying bags. It’s a win-win and I loved the concept. So I got involved, signed up to volunteer and made a lot of bags. If I tally them up it probably will go up to the hundreds at this point.

It’s interesting because the preferred terminology that is gender-neutral is “sewist”. But it’s difficult to use since as someone who is ESL, whenever I hear the term I think of someone who is doing something related to plumbing, like sewage. Because of this I still use seamstress especially when talking to people who might not be as familiar with the community.

Anyways, because of being a volunteer seamstress with Boomerang Bags, working with fabric become a larger part of my hobby time. I’ve already been quilting for years and I’ve made enough quilts, throw blankets, pilllowcases for my home. And during the pandemic, our community’s talents had an opportunity to shine in a major way. Hundreds of crafters, seamstresses (or sewists), quilters worked together for months to help with two major fabric-related goals: to make fabric masks for those who cannot afford them, and to make fabric laundry bags for healthcare workers to store their contaminated scrubs after work that they can just toss into the laundry.

A dining chair with a dozen fabric bags draped by the backrest.
These were the first batch of bags I’ve sewn in March 2020, as part of the province-wide effort to make fabric bags for healthcare workers who need a place to store their dirty uniforms. Just a year beforehand, I discovered Boomerang Bags Edmonton through social media posts of a city councilor.

I wonder if the former councillor realized that from this very small act, it opened me to Edmonton and Alberta’s community of creatives sewing.

Second is former City Councillor John Dziadyk, who represented Ward 3 on the north side. He caught my attention during his election campaign in 2017 because his marketing strategy was frequent, consistent, and his viewpoints were phrased in a way that resonated with a lot of people frustrated with how things are done in city government. After he got elected, his social media, particularly Facebook, continue to be very active in sharing information about community matters.

He published a short video during spring time 2018, encouraging people to help with the snow melting and puddles in drains by chipping off the ice of a blocked drain when they see one. It’s clear that the video was a simple one, likely just him and another person holding his phone. He used an ice chipper, a common tool used in the winter, tried to strike a puddle a few times and then the muddy water started to drain. He said, doing this helps prevent flooding and from stagnant ice water to collect. This can be dangerous if the puddle freezes again which tends to happen in March and April.

It blew my mind that it is something that an everyday person can do. I definitely have seen these slushy puddles on sidewalks and intersections all the time. As someone who frequently walks, I’ve been splashed by them a few times. I thought there’s nothing anyone can do other than hope for warmer weather so all the water evaporates.

As a result, I started to observe sidewalk drains whenever I walk around. While I don’t always have the time or I forget sometimes, whenever I could, I would also remove pieces of garbage or leaves that would block the drain. That way, when it rains or there’s a large amount of snow and ice melting, all the water have somewhere to go. It’s one of those seemingly invisible things that if someone looks at proactively, it can save people from inconvenience, potential accidents, and soggy footwear.

A sidewalk in the spring time, with snow and slush piled up.

What’s most interesting about these two experiences is that these actions are not even closely related to their actual roles, which is advocating and addressing political issues under the municipal government. A few times, I’ve heard people say that being a politician for a city or municipality, is the toughest one compared to being a provincial or federal politician. Either way, I’m thankful that something as simple as browsing social media platforms and finding these information from their posts had made a positive impact on me. A re-tweet, and a simple video, who would have thought! Well, I hope these two former politicians are doing well these days after moving on from political life.