Ottawa, Monday, October 29, 2007

How are you?

What an honour you are bestowing on me today! I never thought that a school would one day bear my name. I cannot begin to tell you how much this means to me.

Let me look at you.

You are all so beautiful.

It is so good to see you, in the bloom of youth, with your wide smiles and shining eyes.

I have very fond memories of my first few years of school. The school I went to was in my home. My mother, my mother the teacher, founded it.

She called it “Le Bocage,” comparing it to a kind of garden, because she felt that learning and knowledge needed to be cultivated, like flowers and plants, in order to bear fruit.

My mother was right to think that learning was like tending a garden. At school, you learn how to read, write, and do math. But you also learn how to live together. You discover how big the world is, and how full it is of possibilities.

That is what education is. It is opening yourself to everything the world has to offer and benefiting from it.

The more you know, the more freedom you will have to choose and to live your dreams.

I have an eight-year-old daughter named Marie-Éden. Like me, she was born in the poorest country in the Americas, Haiti. Maybe—just like us— some of you were born in a country other than Canada?

On that Caribbean island where my daughter and I were born—as in so many other countries around the world—not all children are lucky enough to be able to go to school. They are too busy helping their families survive by working in the fields, taking care of their younger siblings, or doing chores at home.

In some regions of the world, war prevents children from going to school altogether because they cannot get there safely. And in some places, girls are not allowed to go to school and learn things like the boys at all.

For those children, going to school is a dream that will never come true.

Every morning when you walk to school, or take the bus, or have your parents drive you here, think of the children who are not as fortunate as you are.

I want you to take full advantage of the opportunities you are given, opportunities a lot of people don’t have. And I want you to know how precious those opportunities are.

I think we should all thank the principals and teachers who are guiding you in your quest for knowledge.

Their passion, dedication and commitment are signs of hope and success for you and for this country. Never hesitate to tell them how much you appreciate what they are doing for you.

You know, it is pretty rare for them to build schools these days; there are generally enough of them to meet the demand. But your school—a Francophone school in Eastern Ontario—is brand new.

It is my firm belief that the future of the French language and culture rests in your hands. And the present is in the pride you have in learning and promoting French; it is a beautiful language, one that we love speaking and that is spoken by millions of other people around the world.

This school may bear my name, but it is filled with your spirit. It was built with you in mind. And you will enrich it with your unique contribution, your ideas, your active imaginations, and your joy for life.

Thank you for welcoming me so warmly. I will come back to see you again and to hear your stories about all the wonderful and exciting things happening in your school.

Thank you.