Let’s talk about the real “Speech of the Century.” No, I’m not referring to Barack Obama’s hopeful “Yes We Can” or Greta Thunberg’s fiery “How Dare You.” I’m talking about Harrison Butker’s recent Commencement masterpiece, which was a game-changer—literally and figuratively—for every young woman sitting on the edge of her seat, waiting for her life to truly begin.
For those who missed his speech and have 20 minutes to set fire to:
Who better to give advice to a group of aspiring graduates than an NFL placekicker? After all, his primary job is to come into the game for brief moments and make the kick…from right in front of the posts. It’s poetic, really, a metaphor for our own fleeting moments of importance in this vast field of existence.
As a senior female student, I felt an overwhelming sense of alignment with Butker’s words. All these years, we’ve been taught to chase after leadership positions, university degrees, and professional careers. But why the rush? According to the wisdom of Butker, our lives don’t really kick off until we’ve snagged a husband and popped out a couple of mini-me’s. And after all, his source of credibility for this argument is none other than his own wife “Isabelle” who would apparently be the first to “vouch” for this domestic lifestyle. For some reason, the concept of Stockholm Syndrome comes to mind . . .
Butker’s speech was a breath of fresh air, blowing away the fog of ambition and career aspirations to reveal the true milestone markers of a woman’s life: marriage and motherhood. As he so eloquently implied, why waste time on striving for educational or personal achievements when you could be planning your dream wedding or choosing nursery colours?
And let’s not forget the pressing issue of our minority status as females, so graciously highlighted by our kicker-sage. It’s comforting to know that, in his eyes, we’re just waiting in the wings, ready to step onto the real playing field of life—which, of course, is defined by marital and maternal bliss.
So, thank you, Harrison Butker, for reminding us young women that our lives are currently on pause. How eager we are to hit play, to finally start our lives the moment we say, “I do” and hear the sweet cries of our firstborn. Your profound words have truly kicked us right where it counts—straight into reality.
