Good morning.

I really am quite delighted to be here with you this morning. The occasion is made even more special by your warm welcome; the fact that it is St Joseph’s Day; and the anticipation of the mini concert that I have been promised.

Returning to my Alma Mater evokes many different emotions: happiness – in once again walking the halls where I spent so much of my time and made such wonderful memories. Curiosity – at seeing and hearing about the changes that have unfolded in the ‘few’ years since my graduation. And, of course, the overwhelming sense of nostalgia for the ‘good ole school days’ with all their experiences – the great, the good, and the not-so-good.

I wish that I could stand here and tell you that I was an amazing student, who excelled at both academics and extra-curricular activities, who always paid full and undivided attention to all of my teachers, and who was the living and breathing embodiment of our motto “Wisdom and Knowledge”.

Alas – if wishes were horses!

The truth is, that although at some point I am sure I must have tried to be at least some of those things, at no time at all was I ever exactly “Student of the Century”. My report cards would often infuriate my poor father; invariably they would say things like “A pleasant pupil. Can do better. Is too talkative”. One of the changes I noticed in the school this morning is this Auditorium. When I was a student, there was no Auditorium. There was a large tennis court where we would play and lime. There was also a tree, which is no longer here, under which we would congregate and share stories – in other words, gossip. That tennis court and that tree were probably the training ground on which I acquired the social skills and the loquaciousness that gave my father conniptions.

A question that I am regularly asked these days when I tour schools, is “In your schooldays, did you ever think that you would be President?”. I have to concentrate very hard to supress a giggle. That thought was as far away from my brain as the East is from the West. My standard answer is “None of my teachers ever thought so”. I can tell you today that in fact one or two of my teachers – none of whom is present today, thank goodness – had predicted only trials and tribulations ahead for me, so exasperating did I seem to them at the time!

In many ways, the only thing extraordinary about me as a student was my extraordinary ordinariness. And that, more than anything else, is the message that I would like to share with you this morning. All of the pressures that are put upon us, or that we sometimes put on ourselves, to be this, that or the other – these are not the things that bring us joy and success. The thing that brings us joy and success is when we learn to love and accept ourselves as we are – in the simple and ordinary moments of our lives. Accepting and loving our ordinary selves is the only sure way to lead fulfilling lives, and, as it sometimes turns out – take me as an example – lives that offer us extraordinary opportunities that we can never see coming.

As a student, I often lacked confidence in myself. I was never a superstar student. As an adolescent girl, I went through all of the pain and insecurity that girls face in the process of becoming adults. But, in the face of all of the challenges that face young girls as they grow up, I continued to pay attention to my education. With the love and care of some very special teachers, I eventually began to feel more and more comfortable with who I was – with my ordinariness – and eventually, I was able to open myself up to the full experience of school and to the balanced and rounded education that our school offered then, and still offers today. It was the education that I received at this school, more than anything else, that laid the foundation for all of my subsequent pursuits in life. And, as fate – or some might say luck – would have it, one day I found myself taking the oath to be President of Trinidad and Tobago.

I want to take a moment here, to express my profound gratitude to one teacher in particular, who saw and loved me in my ordinariness. That teacher is Mrs. Cintra Lucky. I will never forget how kind Mrs. Lucky was to me one day, after I had had a not-so-pleasant experience in another class during my first few years at the Convent. That not-so-pleasant experience was born out of my ordinariness – the ordinariness of the experiences that I had had in my life up to that time. That ordinariness caused me to do something that provoked the great upset of another teacher. Mrs. Lucky saw and accepted my ordinariness, and gave me the confidence to love and accept my ordinariness as well.

One of the many blessings that we have in our school, is an abundance of teachers like Mrs. Lucky. Mrs. Lucky has long retired from teaching. But so many others like her continue to bless us at this school with their love and acceptance of the beauty of our ordinariness.

And so, I want to encourage all of the students at our school today to accept and love your ordinary selves and, in the face of all of the challenges that face you as you grow up, and to pay attention to, and take advantage of the balanced and rounded education that our schools offers. Open yourselves, most especially, to the training in honing your communication skills that education offers, by teaching you how to read, write, speak and listen better. Open yourselves to the training in that education offers in strengthening your critical thinking.

I don’t want to speak for too long; I much prefer chatting with you, one-on-one – which I am hoping I will get to do after the mini concert. And so, let me end my short address to you this morning by thanking the School for inviting me to spend time with you this morning – it is an honour deeply appreciated and gratefully accepted. I want to thank you all for having me on this special day and for coming out for us to spend time together. As I look at you, young women, I am reminded of the many hopes, dreams and passions that stirred within me when I was your age. In my ordinariness, I have been able to love and to live life, and to have some of those dreams come true – and to have and others happen that I never imagined would come to pass. I have the same desire for you – that you will love and accept yourselves for who you are. And that all of your dreams will come true.

I thank you.