As I was going through the files I have collected over the years, I came upon my transcription of my high school's valedictory address. Now that I am a college graduate, I think it is interesting to see what was said and look at it through my perspective which I have broadened over the past four years. I still think this is one of the better graduation speeches I have ever heard as it contains an effective mixture of personal experiences, motivational challenges, and humor. So without further adieu, here is Jonathan Weed's speech:
Members of the administration, faculty, staff, family, friends, and members of the class of 2005:
I have a dirty little secret. The truth is Bellarmine has encouraged a dangerous path in my education. It has enticed me to take Latin. As a result of what many of you would consider my unfortunate affiliation with this dead language, it pains me to say that I found myself unable to write my valedictory address without referencing the Latin origin of the word "valedictory."
Okay, here it goes. "Vale" means "goodbye" or "be well." "Dictum" means "speech." Ta da! All right, so perhaps that etymological revelation wasn't as an effective speech writing device as I had hoped. But in examining the words' classical components, I was struck by the sheer simplicity of its meaning. A valedictory address is a speech to say goodbye. It's a speech to tell you all to be well because for all I know, I may never see you or Bellarmine again.
What a sobering thought! We are here today, fundamentally, to say goodbye to Bellarmine, Mr. Sullivan's ubiquitous calls to 113, cross dressers coming out of Mr. Alessandri's science fiction class, and most importantly, the morning prayer to "Gad" that's not going to be a part of our daily routine. Those things will no longer be a part of our daily routine, but what I have come to believe is that that part of Bellarmine doesn't matter.
What, you say? What happened the last four years doesn't matter? Well, we certainly have much to be proud about. Our class has forged a tradition of excellence in athletics, academics, and extracurricular activities that will certainly shine on for quite a while, at least in our own memories. We won't forget Dean Constante's B-E-L-L-S cheers, which prove that he believed, too. We won't forget the October 29th last minute touchdown against Saint Francis. We won't forget our excitement as Brandon Williams goes for a kill on the volleyball court, as they win their sixth CCS championship in eight years. We won't forget the best golf and baseball teams this school has ever seen. We won't forget an athletics program with the most division titles in the Bay Area. We won't forget a speech and debate team which won the prestigious UC Berkeley Tournament for the first time in a decade. We won't forget a robotics team that's the second best in the world. It's clear that something special has been going on.
Our class has also witnessed some of Bellarmine's most profound changes. Father McFadden's last pupils graduate today. And Coach Ray, Father Alender, graduates today with us. September 11th, 2001 was just weeks after we joined the Bellarmine community. We saw the arrival of a new dean, a new name for Hedding, and even the advent of a new seven-period schedule. We were the first to see The Laramie Project and the Gay-Straight CLC. Our class saw Cool Hand Luke with Mr. Orr. Oh, well so did everyone else. Fate has made our class a class of the future.
That's why I say the past four years don't matter. Well, sure they do in the traditional "learn valuable lessons and make new friends" sort of way. But to say that these experiences define Bellarmine is preposterous. We are Bells not because we went to classes here. We are Bells because of what we will do with the classes we have taken here, with the people we've met, and the skills we've learned. We are not Bells because of yesterday; we are Bells because of tomorrow.
Remember the "Graduate at Graduation"? Those proposals don't exist just so we can all feel good about ourselves at the end of our time here. I didn't know this before, but it turns out that in 1981, Jesuit high schools in the United States crafted a mission statement based on five tenets of a successful human being: religious, loving, open to growth, intellectually competent, and committed to doing justice. But Bellarmine, ever committed to doing something different, up and added a sixth point to their stated goal. A Bellarmine student should pursue leadership growth. If we are to be considered ready for this day, according to Bellarmine, we must be willing to pursue new challenges and opportunities, not just rehash old ones. Religious, loving, intellectually competent—there's no time for Bellarmine to influence any of this anymore; either they've succeeded or they haven't. But the "Grad at Grad" doesn't stop there; it proposes a goal for the rest of our lives. It explicitly states that growth, not stagnation, must be the primary theme of the years to come. It states that a Bellarmine student must spend not four years but the rest of his life finding opportunities to put his skills into leadership action.
What I am trying to say is that if all Bellarmine has given us are these four years of fun, it has failed us. But I don't believe it has. I think Bellarmine has done exactly as it said it would. It has given us the foundation we need for the next sixty, seventy, or eighty years. In ten years, when he's the owner of a professional sports team, Dan Couch will name them the "Bells" so he can still say "Go Bells!" to everyone he meets. In twenty years, Nick Schwartz will bring sixteen boxes of fruitcake to work not because he's fighting on the side of the seniors but because he's fighting on the side of the poor. In thirty years, people will still mistake Mr. Connom for a student. And Michael Stapleton, now inexplicably a democrat, will not be writing yearbooks but daily briefings for the president of the United States. In forty years, Nik Matani will proclaim, "Win out!" not when he wins a debate round but when he wins another trial for an indigent client. And in fifty years, looking like Father Wade, we will meet here for our golden reunion and recognize that the spirit of Bellarmine acted in more than just four years of our lives.
There's an old Christian hymn which runs, "They'll know we are Christians by our love." Well, I hope they'll know we are Bells by our love, by our strength, and by our character. I hope that they'll know we are Bells by our convictions. We don't need to win Who Wants to be a Millionaire? as one Bellarmine graduate did or win Survivor as a Bell almost did to prove our worth. We just need to use our brains and our brawn in a way that helps others first, not ourselves. Look at JW Knappen—he attended classes here for only a short while, but we are proud to call him a Bell because he has shown all of us what "service leadership" really means. We gave him a standing ovation at the awards ceremony not because he got a 4.0 or got into a good college but because he, perhaps more than any of us, knows what it means to be a true Bell.
Yes, I hope that they'll know we are Bells. I'm sure they will.
I can't resist a bit more Latin; I promise it will be brief. When the Catholic mass used to be said exclusively in Latin, the priest's lasts words to the congregation were "Ite missa est," which loosely translates, "Go, it is the sending forth." At the end of every mass, like the one we shared Thursday night, we are challenged to bring what we have experienced to the outside world, to live church outside of church, so to speak. I like to think that the phrase, "Go Bells!" uttered at the end of virtually every Bellarmine prayer, serves the same function. It's not just an encouragement to succeed during the day but also a call to bring the spirit of service, brotherhood, and compassion to everything we do. It's in that spirit that I would like to leave you today. Bells, it is the sending forth. Remember, for all we've done here, for all the fun we've had, the important bit is just beginning.
In proper Bellarmine fashion then,
Have a good day everyone, God bless, and go Bells!
What would we do if the stars only came out once every thousand years? No one would sleep that night, of course. The world would create new religions overnight. We would be ecstatic, delirious, made rapturous by the glory of God.
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
