1987 Fredericton Encaenia
Valedictory Address
Delivered by: Morrison, Connie
Content
"Valedictory Address" (22 May 1987): 1-2. (UA Case 68, Box 2).
Your Honour the Lieutenant Governor, Lady Aitken, Premier Hatfield, President Downey, distinguished guests, ladies and gentlemen, fellow graduates.
My job today is to leave you with some inspirational words which will hopefully be profound and thought provoking enough to echo in your mind for years to come. The traditional farewell statements, though, are too tired and worn for this class. So instead I have decided to tell you the story about the moose and the caribou.
Besides being the largest and the strongest member of the deer family, the moose is an intelligent and resourceful animal. It lives hidden from hunters in the forest lands of our country and knows in which environment it will be most likely to prosper.
If, by chance, the moose is sighted by a hunter, it is quick to find cover from the ensuing danger.
The caribou, on the other hand, is not as intelligent. Its very lifestyle endangers its existence. Grazing in the wide-open tundra, it is an easy target for hunters. And then when spotted it will stand and look at the hunter - and allow itself to be shot.
The caribou is a follower. Guided by instinct it travels in large herds which wander from place to place. This instinct can easily lead to disasters such as the one in Northern Quebec, last spring. If you remember, tens of thousands of the animals followed the herd into the flooding river and drowned.
And because of the size of the herd in which the caribou travels, when it speaks it is rarely heard.
In contrast to that collective identity, the moose travels alone. Instead of blindly following others into disaster, the moose will use its resources to ensure its survival. If, for example, the only available food is in a tree top, then it will use its strength to bend the tree and get the food.
And when the solitary moose speaks, it is heard. We know what a moose call sounds like, but who knows what noise a caribou makes?
"Accepting the challenge" that was offered to us when we came to the University of New Brunswick four or more years ago, makes us like the moose. We chose UNB as the environment out of which we will be most likely to prosper.
We live in a time when having a university degree has almost become a necessity. And not having one could mean that we are endangering our own existence.
As graduates, we have proven that we are not followers, but leaders much rather. When we speak, we will be heard. We have become individuals, each with a voice. And because we have all learned how to learn, we too can use our resources to prosper and adapt.
When we came to the University of New Brunswick, we may have been like the caribou — voiceless and without purpose. But today, when we leave, we are like the moose. We leave here with strength, with resources, and we leave alone.
Your Honour the Lieutenant Governor, Lady Aitken, Premier Hatfield, President Downey, distinguished guests, ladies and gentlemen, fellow graduates.
My job today is to leave you with some inspirational words which will hopefully be profound and thought provoking enough to echo in your mind for years to come. The traditional farewell statements, though, are too tired and worn for this class. So instead I have decided to tell you the story about the moose and the caribou.
Besides being the largest and the strongest member of the deer family, the moose is an intelligent and resourceful animal. It lives hidden from hunters in the forest lands of our country and knows in which environment it will be most likely to prosper.
If, by chance, the moose is sighted by a hunter, it is quick to find cover from the ensuing danger.
The caribou, on the other hand, is not as intelligent. Its very lifestyle endangers its existence. Grazing in the wide-open tundra, it is an easy target for hunters. And then when spotted it will stand and look at the hunter - and allow itself to be shot.
The caribou is a follower. Guided by instinct it travels in large herds which wander from place to place. This instinct can easily lead to disasters such as the one in Northern Quebec, last spring. If you remember, tens of thousands of the animals followed the herd into the flooding river and drowned.
And because of the size of the herd in which the caribou travels, when it speaks it is rarely heard.
In contrast to that collective identity, the moose travels alone. Instead of blindly following others into disaster, the moose will use its resources to ensure its survival. If, for example, the only available food is in a tree top, then it will use its strength to bend the tree and get the food.
And when the solitary moose speaks, it is heard. We know what a moose call sounds like, but who knows what noise a caribou makes?
"Accepting the challenge" that was offered to us when we came to the University of New Brunswick four or more years ago, makes us like the moose. We chose UNB as the environment out of which we will be most likely to prosper.
We live in a time when having a university degree has almost become a necessity. And not having one could mean that we are endangering our own existence.
As graduates, we have proven that we are not followers, but leaders much rather. When we speak, we will be heard. We have become individuals, each with a voice. And because we have all learned how to learn, we too can use our resources to prosper and adapt.
When we came to the University of New Brunswick, we may have been like the caribou — voiceless and without purpose. But today, when we leave, we are like the moose. We leave here with strength, with resources, and we leave alone.
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