Grade 9 Graduation Speech for the class of

Grade 9 Graduation Speech for the class of 2006 Dear Parents, Staff Members, Students and siblings, and the Grade 9 graduating class of 2006; It is my privilege and my pleasure to be able to stand here each year before a class of Grade 9 graduating students and offer up whatever modest words of wisdom are in my power before we send them off into what I call the world beyond Euro-School. And each year of course, the group of students who sit proudly before me are different. Going into their last year this year’s Grade 9’s were more or less affectionately referred to as the class from Hell. Personally, as the first day of this school year drew nearer, a sense of dread, even a kind of fear and trembling seemed to enter my very soul. More than one teacher through the years has gone down with the flag, defeated by this class’s seeming complete disregard for punctuality, attendance, homework, class rules, and the ordinary conventions of politeness. Along their road to Nørrebro Hallen on this fine celebratory evening, some students left (the twins, the Bilals, Mahsa, and Jamal to name a few), and others came, (Aykhan, Kemal, Stas, Gustav and Taymor), and two even left and came back (Susan and Lamis). And yet somehow, persistently and with an almost demonic stubbornness the character of the class stayed the same, while the handful, admittedly small, of dutiful, hard working and conscientious students suffered in silence as more than one teacher read the class the riot act after some transgression or other. Now, I can imagine that at this point you are expecting me to say how in this, their last year, this group of individualists jelled and came together as a team. But to be honest (since I must practice what I preach), I’m not sure they ever did. And yet, in their own dysfunctional and bizarre and yes, even unique way, every once in awhile, they did. They took a break from their bickering, and even attempted to maintain a number of ceasefires in what I call the Hussein wars (their was the ongoing Hussein-Yousra battles, the Hussein-Gustav squirmishes, the Hussein-Kemal confrontations, the Hussein-Akhan melees, the HusseinArsalan feud – am I leaving anyone out? You get the picture). In these World Cup days I would compare this class to an idiosyncratic collection of individual talent that showed flashes of unity and even flashes of brilliance, as they maintained their mysterious if misguided code of loyalty and even helped each other once in awhile. And despite the fact that I can count the number of days on two hands, and perhaps even only one, when the whole class was in attendance at the same time, and though several of them still owe me an essay or two, this group of individuals, at their best, has been one of the best classes, if not the best, to actually teach. The problem with them was never getting one of them to speak, rather it was preventing many of them from speaking at the same time. At their best, and their best is what I will remember them for, they have been passionate in arguing their positions, relentless in defending them, and yet open-minded at the same time. They have been engaged and engaging, insightful and exasperating, and never anything short of lively and entertaining. Though I had to occasionally wake Stas from his daydreams, shake Aykhan free of his selfaggrandisement (the irony being I doubt he knows what I just said), tell Lene that she could not go to the bathroom, yet again, curb Yousra and Halimah’s enthusiasm for sharing notes, and check to see if Taymor was still breathing back there, I have grown, despite all my misgivings, inordinately fond of this class of individuals. As I have gotten to know them beneath the surface, I have grown to care deeply about them. They are, in some ways, the most memorable class I have ever taught. They have at times driven me to my wits end and driven me to fits of laughter and rage, but mostly they have delighted me with the sheer force and colour of their personalities and intelligence and humour. And I am truly looking forward to see what becomes of them in the years ahead. But I will always remember them as I see them now. I will remember Taymor for his uniqueness, his maturity, and on the few occasions he let his guard down, for his genuine humility and honesty and openness, and for his monumental laziness. I will remember Susan for her ability to say in 50 words what we ordinary mortals can only say in 5, and I will remember her for her gutsiness and her beauty. I will remember Kemal for his swagger, his cockiness, and for how finally, almost before it was too late, he began to grow into the man I know he wants to be. I will remember Stas for his toughness, his unshakeable belief in himself against all odds, and despite all he has had to overcome, and, for lack of a better word, I will remember him for his inimitable Stasness. I will remember Aykhan for his chutzpah, and his willingness to answer any question about any text regardless of whether he had actually read it or not, and I will remember him for his vast reserves of untapped potential and for his ability, no matter the degree of my outrage, to make me laugh. Don’t wait too long to start using the considerable gifts you have been given! I will remember Gustav for his goofiness, for his truly horrible jokes, and for his curiosity, and his willingness as an old Dane to challenge and learn from all the new Danes with honesty and an open mind when it counted. I will remember Lene for the rare times she awoke from her deep, deep slumber, like some sleeping beauty, to grace us with her insight and intelligence and her vast warmth. And I will remember her for her inexhaustible supply of excuses no matter what the occasion. I will remember Lamis, the pride of Yemen, for the philosophical conversations we used to have when she was in Grade 2, and for her ability to go quietly about her own business in the midst of the chaos all around her. I will remember Hussein for his mind-boggling, gravity defying ability to get into a conflict with almost anyone, no matter how big or small, young or old, and for the incredible quickness of his mind and for the goodness of his heart which I absolutely know is there, no matter what he says. I will remember Arsalan for his boyish good looks, and for his admirable work ethic and determination and courage; Arsalan may not be a giant in stature, but he has the heart of a lion. I will remember Faisal for his total disregard for the convention of knocking on doors (especially mine) before entering, for his complete inability to sit still or leave the objects on his desk in peace even for a moment, for the way the sound and volume of his voice seemed to haunt me in every corner of the school and beyond, and for the genuine softness and sweetness which emerged on occasion from beneath his gruff exterior. Don’t be too cynical. There is also goodness in the world. “I will remember Waleed for how very far he has come, for never giving up on himself, and for the remarkable coincidence, which he always denied, of his sick days inevitably falling during a Pakistani test match in cricket.” I will remember Yosra for her indomitable will and vast intelligence, for her monumental moodiness and her dazzling smile, and her willingness, despite her stubbornness, in the end, to laugh at herself. Copenhagen Euro-school without Yosra somehow will never be the same. And finally I will remember Halimah for her gentleness and incredibly good nature, for her outrage at injustice, and for her honesty and earnestness and her diplomatic skills in trying to get everyone to get along. Halimah just may be one of those rare people who simply doesn’t have an evil bone in her body. And so, dear graduating class of 2006, I hope we have taught you all a thing or two, and have prepared you for the next step on your journey and even some ones after that. Your challenge will be to leaven your intelligence with discipline, your humour with compassion, your boundless self-confidence with humility. You will discover one day a truth which may seem inconceivable to you now: life is indeed short; and time really does fly by. Use your time well. Remember to suck out the marrow once in awhile. Remember that an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth will leave the whole world blind and toothless. Remember to step inside the other person’s shoes before you judge how they walk (even the Armenians). Do not be satisfied until you’ve done as close to doing your best as you can; don’t settle for mediocrity. Don’t ever lose your curiosity and don’t, in the end, listen to anyone or anything but your own hearts and minds and souls. And, most importantly, be kind to each other, and to all those you meet along your journey. By way of conclusion I should also say that on their last day of school before their exams, if even for a brief moment or two, this class did come together, and put on the best Grade 9 last day assembly that has yet been held, and even the big guy had a tear or two in his voice as he recalled his years at Euro-School, and later that day, after bowling and lunch, on a rainy late Wednesday afternoon in May, this class of individualists went off towards the bright lights of Tivoli together. In the end, for a moment, together. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the Copenhagen Euro-school graduating class of 2006.