JOSEF LINDL
SCHOOL: St. John Brebeuf (Abbotsford)
FRESHMAN’S FUTURE: Trinity Western
WISE WORDS: “…the core and pride of St. John Brebeuf, of what it stands for, and of what this class really is, is found in something a little different. It’s that elusive something that we bump into when we attend morning chapel and the guitar strings are three-and-a-half tones out of tune; when we come together on retreats, with both their moments of fun and solemnity…”
![Josef Lindl, St. John Brebeuf Bears. (Ward Perrin, PNG)]( "Josef Lindl blog")
Josef Lindl, St. John Brebeuf Bears. (Ward Perrin, PNG)
LANGLEY — “Well, here we are.”
If there are four words that I told myself I would never, ever start off this speech with, those four have to be it.
Because I realized that somehow I was supposed to encompass the five year experience of seventy-eight people without sounding sappy, theatrical, just plain boring, or all of the above.
It is difficult to express oneself in a valedictory and not resort to the boredom of clichés. It feels wrong to do so. It feels wrong to take the essence of a five year experience, an experience that seems so original, so unique, so exclusive to every one of us (for better or for worse), and to try to sum it up in the unoriginality of over-used phrases.
And yet, it’s nearly impossible not to, for this is not necessarily a remarkable occasion.
It isn’t ‘necessarily remarkable’ because, throughout the history of this school, every grad class of every year has stood on the same threshold that we stand over now, has looked back through the same window of the past five years, that we do, and has – more or less – seen what we see. Time does fly.
Half-a-decade of friendships, laughs and misunderstandings, of pettiness and unnecessary drama, procrastination and botched tests, and botched re-tests, has soared out the door, leaving behind only a great big blur of emotions, immaturity and the occasional mathematical formula that we call “high-school”. So it has been for every grad class, and so it is for this, the Grad Class of St. John Brebeuf, 2012.
On the other hand, the past five years have been remarkable, in so much as they were ours. And the accomplishments of the groups and individuals of this class, as well as their embarrassments and failures, are also owned by, belong to, this class.
Five years.
What can be done – or undone – in five years?
For five years the world was at war with itself – twice. In five years Napoleon Bonaparte rose from the commander of a French army to become Emperor of all Europe. Five years was what it took for J.K. Rowling to complete the first book of a series that would make wands and horn-rimmed spectacles a huge blockbuster hit eight times in succession.
Within five years the humble son and apprentice of a chaste carpenter had gone from a quiet existence in southern Galilee to being strung on the cross that was to save the world.
And for five years, our future employers, co-workers and professors remained tragically oblivious to the pain in the behind that this mob of gowned 18-year-olds is about to cause them.
What have we done in five years? What have we learned? What have we accomplished?
I’m sure one of the biggest things any of us will be taking away from this school is that nothing matters, in the final analysis, except soccer. Want to skip class? Sure – just make a point of watching the latest big game in a visible area, where the principal can check up on the score.
From this perspective, the greatest accomplishment of our collective five years was when the Sr. Boys Soccer Team won Provincials, back in grade 9. In this context, also, the greatest fiasco of our five years was when we failed to even qualify for provincials, earlier this year.
Taken from a more healthy perspective, though, soccer fades into the background, and we can focus on other, more important issues. The first is an economic one.
For the past two of our five years at SJB, our class has single-handedly upheld the corner-store economy of west Abbotsford. We raided the slushy machines of the Petro-Canada, and blitzed the ovens of Tops Pizza. At the over-priced sushi diner, we’ve helped a struggling Japanese family survive. And at the Indian Sweet Shop, we ripped them off at 50 cents a samosa.
Of course, many of us may now not be able to pay for an education, having spent our earnings on California rolls and Ruffles, but what does this matter, in the bigger picture of economic growth?
Academically, too, this class has produced a rich legacy. When not storming UFV math competitions or engaged in educational science trips to the remote corners of this earth, such as Washington State or Bamfield, Van. Island, we have kept in a long tradition of academic excellence, pursued in such exercises like getting “crucified” in math class, or in failing Bio12 exams. And of course, we cannot forget our endeavours in Foods 9, when we reached the very pinnacle of culinary perfection in such dishes as a salty “nuts and bolts” or an over-boiled rice, while simultaneously giving our classmates knife-juggling demonstrations, and the teacher a heart-attack.
Culture, just like a certain Scotsman, runs rampant at SJB. When not funneling their efforts into theatre productions like “Grubbs”, the bohemians of our grade were busy winning jazz band competitions, or ‘letting themselves go’ with extraordinary amounts of paint. With a chuckle we also recall the cultural failures of our compadres, things like (but not limited to) bungled unicycle-and-rubix-cube acts.
Getting back to athletics, let us look to the efforts – and successes – of the basketball teams. The Sr. Boys qualified for provincials this season, after six years of denial. The Sr. Girls, too, had an excellent run of it. Nor did our classmates on the various track, cross-country, and golf teams put us to shame. Everyone encompassed the spirit of the SJB Bear in all their athletic pursuits; but the essence of the athletic department can perhaps be found in our very own Sr. Boys Football team, and the award-winning all-girls Cheer Leading Squad, which…well, never mind.
Despite these impressive achievements, ranging across a great spectrum of sports, academics and art, the core and pride of St. John Brebeuf, of what it stands for, and of what this class really is, is found in something a little different. It’s that elusive something that we bump into when we attend morning chapel, and the guitar strings are three-and-a-half tones out of tune; when we come together on retreats, with both their moments of fun and solemnity; when we openly mock the glare of our Vice Principal’s bald head, and get away with it; when we cheer ourselves hoarse as a teammate screams out an epic speech from the Lord of the Rings, and we still lose the game; when we march side by side with pro-life banners, and fall into a comfortable snooze during the key-note talks; and when we get into a single line to receive the Eucharist at a school mass.
For some it’s faith, for others it’s community; but for all it’s there, and it’s what has brought each and every one of us, along with the ability to bamboozle our teachers into giving us a passing grade, here today.
That, and our parish priests and chaplains, parents, and teachers.
Without their unremitting support and dedication, no one, or at least no one except for Eric Legresley, would be here receiving their diplomas. To each of them we extend our most profound gratitude, for the time, prayers, and money they poured into us.
When I first sat down to write this speech, I came across a very blunt article. I’d like to quote a short bit from it, if I may, because it struck me: “Avoid making sweeping statements about being tomorrow’s leaders (only some of you ever will be)”. And all this is very true, I suppose, in the context of any of us becoming the next Mother Teresa, pope, or head of state – and I hope to God that the next George W. Bush isn’t seating in front of me right now; but we are all leaders. By coming up to this podium today, and accepting – not receiving, but accepting – our diplomas, we also accept the responsibility of leadership: the leadership of our own lives. How each of us will interpret or use this responsibility is up to the individual, but the whole point of a school like SJB is to help us find out how.
I cannot say enough about how much of an honour it has been for me to speak on behalf of my fellow classmates; how privileged I feel to be able to, for them, convey our thanks and final farewell to this school. But now I would like to end by speaking to them, if but briefly.
Despite what soap opera producers like to bombard us with, high school is not all friends and locker drama.
I know for some of us, it may not have been an altogether enjoyable experience, and I’m sorry for that. But not so for me. I have spent five years of my life stuck on a school bus bouncing back and forth from here to Mission. In between, I have gone to school with every single one of you, played on sports teams or in bands with some of you, and built genuine friendships with others of you. But I respect you all, and each of you in turn has given me something.
To sum it up in the words of Calvin, that six-year-old demon child from Calvin & Hobbes, “Don’t walk away! I’m trying to apologize, you dumb noodleloaf!”
I wish, and I know this school wishes, you all the very best in the coming years, and remainder of your lives. And though I know that you will all walk away from this place with different experiences and with different feelings in your pockets, I know too that we have all of us shared something, here, in the past five years, that cannot be replaced or relived, ever – for better or for worse.
To end, I’d like to thank everybody for their patience and attentiveness. And I would like to extend a personal thanks to Mr. Brennan and his phenomenal staff at this school, too many to name but who all claim a very special acknowledgement for the countless time and resources they poured into us, going far above and beyond duty as mere teachers.
They have been our true educators, in the deepest sense of the word.
I wish everybody a blessed summer, and, more particularly, much beauty and happiness for the future. All the best, Grad Class of 2012; and, in the words of Blessed John Paul II: “Do not be afraid. Do not be satisfied with mediocrity”. It’s been a good five years.
–delivered June 12, St. Joseph’s Parish (Langley)
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