A Valediction

You always feel the pressure of making a statement with these sorts of speeches, one that will be talked about, remembered and replayed the most on the YouTube livestream - in the grand scheme of valedictorian speeches. But believe me when I say that this grad class needs no exaggerations to tell the history-making story that we are, beginning with the fact that most of us met with our faces covered in medical masks. 

So does the high school glow up really count if no one saw it? We’ll never know. 

I mean, I have rarely met a group of high schoolers who have survived a pandemic and an epidemic (of lice) or get a perfect 100 in anything, but if any of you know what an extending high is, it’s basically the same thing. But does being Brentwood’s Centenary graduating class count? 

It is an understatement of the century to say that this class has made it through quite a journey to be sitting before you today. The rise of COVID-19 gave those who began in Grade 8 the magic of online school and the Barrett/Wismer online workout classes that came with it, so if you want to know where our varsity athletes came from, look no further. 

And let our Grade 9 year be the first to put the rumour to rest that Brentwood is a modern-day Hogwarts. Just because we emerged from the four corners of the globe into the magic realm of in-person school, sorted into houses via collectable bracelets, bonded in the wild in something called “Adventure Week”, and immersed ourselves in lesson plans that often consisted of wood, tape, rope and cardboard, we’re no Harry Potters, are we? I mean, it’s not like we compete to the death between other houses for honour and bragging rights, that'd be crazy. 

Our Grade 10 year saw a doubling of our class numbers and a doubling in COVID cases. That year, we gained a new academic building - you might have heard it, called Deer Lodge. And just when life was returning to normal in the Brentwood universe, our beloved Ross Building came crashing down, and the Centre for Innovation and Learning began. 

In Grade 11, we watched the fruits of this project grow as we began training to represent the Centenary graduating class, in which Grade 12 was spent fulfilling those expectations and requirements. 

It’s been quite the journey, with ups and downs, including in the length of our school socks. But don’t feel sorry for us, because I believe that the hardship is not only a testament to the extraordinary resilience of this class, but also only enhanced the things at  Brentwood worth staying for. Because, above the feelings of homesickness, illness, and struggle, we also felt the joy of eating every meal with our best friends, found the love in a family within our distinct houses, and know how bittersweet it is that we found each other at Brentwood from all four corners of the globe, spend a blip of our lives together, never a second apart, only to part paths once again and resume our diverse walks of life. And if I’m wrong, I mean you braved it all the way to graduation, so I guess the pressures of “Choosing To Be” didn't scare you too much! And as we reflect on what the Brentwood experience means to us, I want to thank parts of the experience that kept me here. 

To my dearest Hope House. My Hope House that is loud, and chaotic, and so full of laughter and love. Thank you for accepting me as I am and teaching me all that I am not. Living with 60 other sisters sounds a little crazy to the outside world, but I cherish it deeply and hold you all very close to my heart. Add 60 Privett brothers on top of that, and now the family reunions are breaking the sound barrier - all my gratitude goes to the Rams of Privett house as well. Thank you, Ms Hedquist and Mr DeSandoli, for the spirit and hearts of Hope. It’s been an honour to be guided, loved, and scolded by you two, and I will carry your lessons with me wherever I go. Possibly the most important lesson was when Ms Hedquist taught me that kicking soccer balls around $200 picture frames was not one of my brightest ideas. 

Mom and Dad, my twin pillars, my lighthouses, and my mirror balls that reflect light and love wherever they go, thank you. Every bit of praise, success, and acknowledgement at this school cannot go without credit to the two extraordinary human beings I learned it from - and their wallets. Very few people would move across the continent for me to be here, and even if you did it in an attempt to move further away from your most problem child, I couldn’t thank you enough. And thank you Raph and Sam, my baby siblings who had to start a whole new life for me, you are my worlds and I do it all for you. Je vous aims jusqu’a la lune et les étoiles, merci enournament et pour toujours. 

As if I don’t already talk about rowing enough, I could not walk off this stage without giving my utmost thank you to this program and the people within it. They say the home is the people, not the place, and I can confidently agree, especially since we had no place; our boathouse was a hole in the ground. Yet it has given me a home, a community, and what others may consider a cult that has seen me at my best and stuck by me through my worst. I mean for sure, it wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows; I got tired, a lot, but I never got tired of it. Mr Calder, Ms Manton, and Mr Carr, it has been an honour to be mentored and guided by you. To Jed, the senior women and my Brentwood rowing family, thank you; it was an honour to fight, laugh, and love through this sport together and create a family in the process. Although the job is finished, it will never be forgotten, and I look forward to that Alumni Alert feature on briancarr.row - everyone go follow it to look out for me on there. 

And of course, I am not the first, and certainly not the last, to have my piece of farewell to our wonderful Mr Patel. Many have tried to induce some tears out of the heartless man with heartfelt speeches about his time here at Brentwood, a commendable effort, but I’d like people to understand how hard it is to imagine Brentwood without him. Who will we eat with in the cafeteria if not Mr Patel? Who will show up at our every twist and turn, every game, every class to assert their dominance and take a selfie? Who will bask over us every Thursday Assembly to impart their words of wisdom about ChatGPT, their 100% grade in calculus, their undying love for us, and a certain canine named PJ? Those questions will soon be answered, even though, deep down, I have dreaded its arrival. Thank you for your service, love, and dedication to Brentwood, Mr Patel. On behalf of our guests, staff, students, and graduating class, we wish you all the best. You graduate with us today and you will be missed.

I spoke at the beginning of my speech about the statement that is our graduating class of 2024. The statement we made surviving a pandemic at Brentwood, the statement we currently make as the Centenary graduating class, and of course the statement of self-control, as we calmly watched Elsa’s glass castle being built from the ground up, one that we will never live a day in as students of this school. But as I impart my final words to a graduating class I love so dearly, I say. don’t stop making statements. This afternoon, Brentwood will release us out of the confines of sign-in times, one-day weekends, and Saturday night prep to show the world what we have learned. Stand up for your causes, lend a helping hand to them, set an example, a standard, and expectation, take up space in the room, make space for others to as well, take risks, make mistakes, learn from them, grow from them, use the lessons to make a difference in your community, an impact, big or small as I know you are able to do; do it 100 times over again, not just for the 100 years of Brentwood greatness we come from, but for the 100 more statements we will make after that. Make sure to keep that top button done and your million-dollar smiles wide. I can’t wait to see what the future has in store for us. 

Thank you, Florence Therrien, Hope ‘24, Valedictorian