Editor's Note: Through the Looking Glass is The Mirror's newest feature. We welcome submissions from all members of the community both past and present who wish to write about defining experiences, moments or relationships during their time at Dartmouth. Please submit articles of 800-1,000 words to the.dartmouth@dartmouth.edu.
It is not official yet, but it's looking more and more like I am not going to be valedictorian of the Dartmouth Class of 2012. Or salutatorian. Or even come in third. I know the exact moment when I lost hold of the title. It was sophomore summer, and I had just checked out about 15 books from the library (for pleasure). I kissed each on the spine and gently placed them in my bookbag. I began to giddily stroll home when the weight of the books ripped right through the zipper.
That JanSport bookbag had been with me since first grade, and class hasn't felt the same since.
Regardless, I have already prepared a valedictorian speech. I know, far too cocky, and believe me, I have been very humbled by this all.
The Mirror has been kind enough to run the speech and let me at least convince people who skim this article in line at Novack that I am valedictorian. Pardon the parenthetical stage notes, but they help with the nerves.
Enjoy.
(Firmly grasp podium. Look down at speech, but smirk because I have it memorized. Oh yeah.)
"Before I begin, I'd like to just wave at the camera for my grandma back home, who's watching this on the live feed. Hi, Grandma!"
(There's no way she figured out how to set that up.)
"Thank you classmates, teachers, administrators and townies looking to steal things."
(Wait for laughter. Pray for laughter.)
"I can't believe I'm sharing the stage with this year's Commencement speaker Stephen Colbert, an idol of mine. I'd just like to give it up to him for his awesome speech that was definitely better than Conan's. Kind of like the ratings, eh?"
(Point and wink at Colbert. Don't forget to ask him for a job afterward.)
"Four years in the Dartmouth bubble, and now here we are, ready to burst onto the world."
(Great writing. You're the man.)
"Look at the person to your left and right. Do you remember standing with them in President James Wright's office over four years ago? We were welcomed by that deep-voiced Dartmouth man, shook his powerful hand and began this journey. I had actually lost my left contact at the time and have no recollection of the faces. But Jennifer Katzenberg and David Katstein, I'm sure we hit it off."
(Anecdote time. Take a deep breath and draw tears. G-Baby's untimely death in "Hardball." The end of "How the Red Fern Grows." The time you realized your new athletic shorts didn't have pockets. Cry, Jon, cry.)
"I must say, though, that I hated Dartmouth initially. I arrived on campus, exhausted from the ride from Jersey, and red-eyed, green-haired Croo members attacked my car. My dad was less prepared for this than I was and leaned on the horn until they left us alone."
(Find my dad in the stands and have a wordless but powerful father-son moment.)
"Once I was somewhat settled, the Croo monsters returned and started singing The Salty Dog Rag' at the top of their lungs. First off, the song is about frickin' Arkansas. Secondly, it's terrible. And the Croo creatures didn't just sing it they made me dance to it. To the poor girl who got paired up with me: I'm so sorry. I tried to find you the other night to apologize and maybe do the Salty Dog Rag properly. But on that first day at Dartmouth, I stepped all over your feet, cursed nonstop and stormed off at the end of the song. I'm so sorry. We could have been great friends."
(Time to make fun of Jim Kim. Don't be nervous. The World Bank will never ever lend you money. You have nothing to lose.)
"But hey, I didn't pack up and leave that day. I stayed around, and things changed. The first African-American president of the United States was elected. We caught Osama great party, Beta, by the way. President Jim Wright retired. President Jim Yong Kim arrived. I joined a frat. Every frat went on probation. The docks were closed. The docks were opened. President Kim left. President Kim came back for graduation."
(Turn around to look at Kim. But do NOT look him in the eyes.)
"And pardon if this is too general, but the Dartmouth experience really cannot be captured in a speech. It is far too personal. It's passing a friend on the Green, it's chatting it up in line at the Hop, it's blitzing at 3 a.m. Dartmouth is unforgettable because of the people and the interactions."
(Emotion is building... it's building... feel it.)
"So find the girl who knocked over your stir-fry with her bookbag and thank her. Find the guy who always takes your cubby in the stacks and thank him. Find the delivery man who makes smalltalk with you when you're in the middle of a terrible all-nighter and thank him. Find the security guard who didn't kick you out of Kemeny when you found the perfect study room and thank him. Find the lady at Alumni Gym who relentlessly checks your ID and thank her. Find the professor who always calls x-hours and thank him."
(Raise hands to sky.)
"Thank them all. They are Dartmouth. That is Dartmouth. Congratulations everyone. And thank you."
(Wipe the tear from your eye, walk off stage and start work on Monday.)
