Yesterday we heard you speak at the David Suzuki function at Hart House. We had attended this function because, among other things, my partner KEL has wanted to meet David Suzuki for years. We were ushered to a seat, and, after almost knocking over some guy’s beer glass, managed to get ourselves settled.
After a few of the routine type of speakers you get at these functions, clearly informed and polished politicos who had years of experience working a crowd, just enough to be somewhat disconnected from it, you were called up.
Now, we knew who you were and I’ve admired you ever since you had to face some pretty annoying interviewers in Beijing. You were honest, straightforward, and probably a little more self deprecating than necessary. You also showed a thoughtful intelligence and a dry sense of humour. As with those times, in your talk last night, you were modest, clever and genuine; KEL and I ate it up.
When the speeches were over, we went to achieve mission number two: getting David Suzuki to let KEL take a picture of him holding a half knitted sock. For a picture of a celebrity, esp. a Canadian one, holding a half knitted sock, a woman who goes by the name “the yarn harlot” will donate money to a group called Knitters Without Borders, which collects and donates money to Médecins Sans Frontières (Doctors without Borders).
With that mission accomplished (having tolerated incredibly rude people who must have thought their donations to the David Suzuki Foundation gave them permission to push people out of the way, jump queues, and generally assert some mistaken sense of privilege) we decided that there was another celebrity in the room: you.
Now, I’m not the type of person to pursue, stalk, or otherwise idolize “celebrity culture.” So when we stood back, waiting for you to deal with your own clutch of self-privileged champagne socialists, it felt a little odd. I wanted KEL to get the pic, and all I wanted to do was try to say something nice and not cliched.
Anyway, when you turned to us, KEL got the picture, and you were quite friendly about it. I really wanted to say something nice, and ended up, as usual muttering something typical about really liking what you said and admiring what you do……..
This is what I wanted to say.
Mr. Van Koeverden. I would like to thank you for being honest and genuine. You have been a world champion and leader of your sport for years, and now that you’ve achieved a degree of celebrity, you are looking for ways to leverage that for the benefit of others. In your talk, you made it clear that, as an elite athlete, you are used to action. You were unsatisfied just as a name on a list of David Suzuki Foundation’s ambassadors: you wanted to be put to work. That’s impressive. Many people who have been in the limelight let it get to their head, you do not seem to be like that. I admire you for that, and of course, for your interest in using your well earned and deserved profile for causes that can make a difference in the lives of people you don’t know.
But what I admire most is the reason you seemed not to care about what I said. There were some kids waiting to speak to you… and you preferred speaking to them than to me. That’s the best part. You know who are the most important resources for big changes to happen, and it’s not middle aged bearded guys, it’s the kids.
Oh, and by the way. According to KEL, you’d save the world faster if you did more of these functions dressed in a t-shirt. Tight is best.
She said it, not me.
Your friend,
Dan
