Tufts Blogs

In October, the Indigenous Students' Organization at Tufts (ISOT) hosted our annual Indigenous People's Celebration, where my best friend and I continued what has since become our cherished tradition - delivering what she brilliantly dubbed our "Bestism" speech (a linguistic mashup born from the fact that "bestieism" just looks wrong on paper). The name is definitely as corny as this entire blog, but somehow it perfectly captures how friendship and cultural identity can weave together into something stronger. 

In true Vanessa John fashion, we wrote it at 4 AM the night before, because apparently friendship can only be properly articulated when you're running on energy drinks and desperation. Nothing says "we should probably write our speech" like the gentle reminder of sunrise peeking through the Indigenous Center windows, nature's way of saying "Hey besties, you do realize the event is TODAY, right?" Yet somehow, in that delirious space between night and day, magic happened - one might even say that we, in fact, cooked.

Though I'll admit, somewhere between our lethal combination of energy drinks, Halloween candy, and Vanessa's special matcha concoction and the first bird's morning song, we seriously considered just copying and pasting last year's speech. Because when your blood is approximately 90% caffeine and sugar, pragmatism starts looking suspiciously like wisdom. Yet in that liminal space between desperation and dawn, we managed to create something new. Maybe it was the caffeine, maybe it was the friendship, or maybe it was just the peculiar clarity that comes when you're too tired to overthink things. Whatever it was, we transformed our jumbled thoughts into words that somehow made sense, even if we might not remember exactly how we did it. 

Standing before the gathered crowd, we spoke about finding home in our friendship, which at this point is less "friendship" and more "voluntarily joined at the hip." We're basically a package deal now or something. We live together, go to class together, join the same clubs, and probably share the same brain cell (though it goes on vacation during speech-writing time. lol.). When we have to give speeches, we split them up because public speaking is scary enough without having to shoulder the whole thing alone. Plus, this way when one of us forgets how words work, the other can jump in like we planned it that way. 

I always joke that in every single photo of us together, I look like I'm genuinely in the presence of Christ in the flesh. Last year's IPD photos are particularly incriminating. While she's speaking, I'm just there in the background radiating this chaotic mix of proud mom slash fangirl slash slightly obsessed best friend who has made their appreciation all too visible. There I am, beaming at her like she's casually rewriting the laws of physics while she drops knowledge and explains concepts and makes connections I’d never considered. 

At this point, my problem-solving strategy is simple: skip Google, ask bestie - because why navigate search engine results when you have a best friend who explains things with Twitter references and understands your specific brand of confusion? She has this way of breaking down concepts without ever making you feel small for not knowing them in the first place. It's like having a personal Wikipedia editor who actually speaks your language and comes with built-in emotional support.

As for our speech, we shared the epic saga of our reclamation and friendship - a journey that transformed us from two freshmen too scared to unmute in ISOT Zoom meetings to somehow running those very same meetings. Talk about a plot twist neither of us saw coming, especially since our former selves once treated raising hands in meetings like an extreme sport. Turns out all we needed was each other - because nothing builds confidence quite like having someone who matches your exact level of confusion but brings equal determination to figure it out anyway. Vanessa has become more than just my best friend; she's an essential part of who I am, that rare kind of friend who not only understands your specific brand of chaos but celebrates it, making every question feel valid and every doubt conquerable. 

Looking out at the audience which at that point was just our friends and parents, I couldn't help but marvel at how far we'd come. Somehow, through the power of friendship and concerning amounts of caffeine, our 4 AM writing session produced something almost profound. Who knew that the secret to public speaking wasn't imagining the audience in their underwear, but having your best friend next to you, ready to jump in when your brain inevitably short-circuits mid-sentence? Because that's what best friends are for - making even sleep-deprived speeches sound like they were all part of the plan. 

What could have been a disaster instead became one of those perfect moments that captures the essence of our friendship: chaotic yet meaningful, last-minute yet heartfelt. Sometimes the most genuine insights don't come from careful planning, but from those slightly desperate hours when friendship and purpose align just right, usually somewhere between midnight and sunrise.