The Little Valedictory that Couldn't

Now that my bid for Arts Valedictorian has come to an unsuccessful close, I thought there's no point in letting two pages of work go to waste. So here is introduction to the speech I would have given at commencement had things gone my way (apologies for any grammatical mistakes in the French bit. I couldn't be bothered to get it corrected - of course, the selection committee never saw this version):

Fellow graduates, esteemed professors, friends and family. We are gathered here today to remember the lives of our former selves. If, by chance, you can’t remember the individual to whom I am referring, don’t be alarmed and don’t feel ashamed – you are not the only one; for after three to four short years here at McGill, (depending on your home province, of course), very few students graduating from the Faculty of Arts will be able to do so. This, my friends, is not the result of amnesia induced by imbibing in a few too many at Gerts, St. Sulpix, or Hurley’s. Instead, it is the beauty of the Bachelor of Arts.

There is no doubt that most of us have, at one point or another, have contemplated the real value of an Arts degree. Whether it be in terms of the probability of landing a high-paying job immediately after graduation, its relevance to what you want to pursue later in life, expected returns to your education, or how it compares to a degree in Management or Engineering, the question ultimately comes down to what skills you have gained in the process of completing your degree. It is no wonder that one would have difficulty attempting to write down the specific, quantifiable skills that one has gained by studying, for example, French literature from 1880-1895, Film as Art, Chinese politics under the Ming dynasty, the sociology of pre-modern feminists, or Machiavelli and realism. (If you haven’t heard of these courses before, it’s because they don’t exist – but they easily could have in the colourful faculty of Arts.) The study of such abstract topics certainly doesn’t leave one with the ability to produce a balance sheet out of thin air, to determine the exact age and composition of particular geological formations, or to build a bridge out of titanium. Instead, it opens up the mind to the pursuit of independent and critical thought, and endows the individuals who have chosen to pursue the study of what we refer to as ‘general arts’ with the confidence and knowledge to pursue the issues to which they now can firmly identify, but which their former selves could never have understood. Languages are a particularly relevant example that we can use to illustrate this point.

Les etudiants de la faculte des Arts savent comment parler une grande varietee de langues, meme avant d’avoir commencer leurs etudes a Montreal. Les programmes non-seulement de francais, mais aussi de l’allemand, d’italien, de russe, d’arabique, et de chinois, pour nommer seulement quelques une, representent les ingredients qui se combinent pour former une platte nourissante et enrichissante pour etre diguster par une etudiant dans la faculte des Arts. Queste lingue stranieri staranno nelle teste degli studenti per…

Ok, I’ll return to English, but I’m sure you get my point. Whether you have actively studied any of these languages in formal classes at 688 Sherbrooke or have simply picked them up while strolling through any of Montreal’s colourful and cosmopolitan neighbourhoods is of little consequence. Arts students are undoubtedly more open to absorbing and appreciating the rich diversity of languages at our disposal than students in any other faculty. This is reinforced by the international composition of our student body as well as by the courses which are offered by the faculty itself. While recognizing your former self may not be as much of a challenge as I originally assumed, a translator-free conversation between your present and former selves certainly might be.