This is the speech I gave at Graduation on Friday, September 19th, in the Holiday Inn Hotel, Befast. Thank you to Kieran, Jonathan and Megan for their help in preparing it.
Good evening Ladies and Gentlemen,
My name is John Callaghan, and I have the huge honour of speaking to you tonight on behalf of my class. I suppose it makes sense that I am the voice for the Class of 2008, considering that I’m a Southern Irish boy with an accent that sounds more Northern than many of the Northerners themselves. Such are the joys of being from Donegal!
Of course, being the voice of such an eclectic bunch is not an easy task when each and everyone of them has so much to say, so much that ought to be heard, so many stories of an amazing summer adventure.
I am sure you have heard many of these stories before. I know that I am beginning to get tired telling them, so I can only imagine how tired my family and friends are of hearing them, but bear with me, this one last time, as I recall just two of the moments from this summer that I will never forget.
Hemlock Outdoor Centre is the place that defined us as a group. It was a day of active problem solving that stretched our patience, our good-will, and our entire bodies. But coming home on our yellow school bus, driving through the thundering rain, and singing, in one voice and at the top of our lungs, “We’ve got the best bus in the land” made it all worthwhile. Because, at that point, I knew that each and every one of us believed it.
The second is a photo I took. In it, Aoibhinn O Hare is holding a tricolour and Lauren Allison a union jack. Just before I took the photo, I told them it would be funnier if they swapped flags, but they both responded straight away with a resounding “No!”. I was a little disappointed, but took the photo anyway. When I think about it, that kind of summed up the spirit of the class of ’08. We knew that we were different, and we were proud of who we were. We didn’t try to change ourselves, and we certainly didn’t try to change each other. Instead, we learned to understand and to celebrate our differences. It didn’t matter if we were Catholic or Protestant, Northern or Southern, Republican or… Democrat, we were all one team, and we posed for photos as nothing less than friends.
We have so many stories to be thankful for, and indeed, so many people to be thankful to.
None more so than to our families, who we are delighted to be sharing this evening with. I could not be prouder to have all four of my parents here tonight, both my real parents and my host parents, that rare breed of humans who willingly opened their homes to us for eight weeks this summer. When my real Daddy, Charlie, warned me he was cutting me off at the age of 21, I didn’t realise that meant I’d be getting a whole new set of parents! We thank you for your generosity, your understanding, your patience, and the all-access passes to your fridge!
To Kevin Sullivan and Briedge Gadd, the entire Board of Directors, and the program funders, we are eternally grateful to you for the belief you have in this program, and in its participants.
To Megan, Jonathan and the Management Team, who acted as crutch, cane, and candle in the dark this summer. They were always by our sides, standing shoulder to shoulder with us. Indeed, on occasion, Ms. Farrell wasn’t just standing by our shoulders, she was standing on them.
My personal highlight of the summer was the feeling that I wasn’t totally my own. I was part of something bigger than me, something better than me. WIP is like a disease. It gets under your skin, it takes a part of you and it adds it to something beyond your control. Throughout the summer, we were colours, we were interns, we were little chicks, we were at our best when we were together. I think of us as body parts. Each one useless on its own but put them all together and you get a living, breathing soul that is W.I.P.
It is the foot of Catherine Green, the one we thought we’d have to chop off after her Week 1 penicillin disaster.
It is the legs of Chris Joyce, the tallest man in every room.
It is the hips of Mary Munroe, who had us always in awe every time she took to the dance floor .
It is the hands of Fiona Buggy, a woman who uses so much more than words to express herself.
It is the fire in the belly of Alan Ralph, that fire which truly set Sawip Sawip Sawip ablaze.
It is the heart of Heather McCormick, a kinder one I have yet to see.
It is the throat of Laura McManus, who managed to cough her way through 8 weeks and 19 guest speakers.
It is the words of Matthew Thompson, and the words per minute of Neal Gartland, who are the most talkative man and the fastest talking man I have ever met respectively.
It is the giggle of Aoibhinn O Hare, unending and impossibly contagious.
It is the ears of Phil Alister, those ears that graciously listened to Chris Joyce all summer.
It is the eyes of Andrew McCullough, the man who literally can sleep with one eye open.
It is the hair of Clare Herbert, those fiery flames that acted as our guiding light so often this summer.
More than just a body, it is a soul. It is a range of characteristics and eccentricities that we have all come to know and love.
It is the first impressions made by Lauren Allison, the girl who, after just two days in her internship, got an invite to dinner with the President.
It is the skill with which Chris Andrews manages to meet, and interview, Heads of State, whether they be Irish or Iraqi!
It is the endearing way in which Judith Bamford can laugh at herself, especially after pulling one of her trademark Bamfordisms.
It is the drive of Elaine McDonald. If last year’s class found their Public Service Tsar in Kieran O Connor, I definitely think we’ve found his Tsaritsa in Elaine.
It is the facial expressions of Clenward, and that one in particular.
It is the sense of direction of Maria McLoughlin. “Eeeeh, Ian, I think I’m lost!”
It is the work ethic of Peter Mannion, the man who claims to be “change we can believe in”. Barack Obama was unavailable for comment.
It is the fear of intimacy of Sarah McKegney, the girl it took me eight weeks to get a kiss on the cheek from.
It is the wisdom and loyalty of Fiona McCarrick, the baby of the group, and the world’s biggest Bertie fan!
It is the mischievous child in Gary Simpson that at one point or another made all of us glad to be young.
It is the patience of Luke O Donnell, our Lombardi Cancer Research intern, who week after week after week graciously put up with the same question; So Luke, have you cured cancer yet?
It is each and every attribute brought to the board table, it is the willingness to invest something of ourselves, and the knowledge that our investment would be rewarded one-hundred-fold. That is what made us the Great ’08.
So, tonight, the sun sets on our summer adventure. However, the job is not yet done. I implore you all to take the tools you have acquired this summer, and use them well. Whatever way you wish to do that, whether you paint, or you fly, or you dance, or you dig, do it with all your energy, and do it well. That is our responsibility, and that is how we can honour this summer.
Sometimes, we are so saddened by the setting of the sun that we fail to appreciate the beauty of the rising moon behind us. Let us not squander our opportunities, and please, please, each and every one of you, keep in touch.
Go n-eiri an bothar libh. Thank you, and good night.
