To My Friend, John Valerio
Dear John,
Never have I met anyone quite as dedicated to their passions as you. From the minute I met you at Queen’s, through our tenure at Multimatic and beyond, you chased what you wanted, knew who you were, and pursued the life that lit you up. There was no work-John and then life-John. You were 100% you at all times, usually found at a track or designing something for the same.
While you spent every waking moment in the FSAE shop at Queen’s, I spent every minute studying (largely on my own). Then we travelled over to the UK together, and you quickly made alliances, forged a team of like-minded engineers, and again, spent every spare moment working on the Formula Student car. I, again, spent most of the time studying and didn’t put the same effort into building relationships. I regret that because I could have known you better, much sooner.
In the end, we both ended up at the same place, sitting beside each other for years, working on the same projects. You had it figured out long before I did, whether I believed it or not back then. You knew what you had to do to get the career you dreamed of, and you had no trouble putting in the work. You were the grittiest engineer I knew. You just went after things without doubt, without hesitation, with full-throttle, swagger-filled confidence.
I don’t know if I’d have made it through those hard days at work without you and Sam beside me. I never had to ask you to be an ally; you just always were. If I was left out of something important or made to feel less-than, you had a witty (usually vitriol-filled) response to anyone that wronged me. You made us laugh, even when we thought we couldn’t. You’d help out anyone, even if you didn’t have time.
Most of all, John, you taught me one huge lesson. You showed me what it means to be sure of yourself, to know who you are, and to stand tall without apology. You took up space. You were loud. You spoke your mind. I really respect that about you. And from this moment forward, I’ll honour who you are by taking steps every day to get to that level of self-acceptance.
I love you, buddy. I never got the chance to say it, and you would have hated if I did. But from now on, I’ll be letting people know I care, even those with a tough exterior like you.
Cha Gheill,
Kattie
