Brentwood College School - Review #17

I landed at Brentwood coming from Hong Kong feeling both exhilarated and completely unanchored. What made the difference? Brentwood has this quiet way of teaching you not only what to learn but how to care while you learn. It’s not just that the teachers were brilliant; it was that they asked about my family, my views, even the culture I came from. That bridge of curiosity and kindness… that’s something I’ve carried into health sciences today.

The very best thing that happened in boarding school was learning how healing a simple question can be: “How are you, really?” That question changed relationships. I’ve grown from someone who thought success meant grades to someone who believes it includes connection, compassion, resilience. If there is one thing I would’ve done differently: I would’ve let myself ask for help sooner. Advice? Learn kindness first—you’ll need it for everything else.

If there is one thing I would’ve done differently, I would’ve let myself ask for help sooner. Advice? Learn kindness first, you’ll need it for everything else.

What I loved most about Brentwood was not the regattas, not the labs, not even the sunsets, though they were breathtaking. It was how a school can teach you science but also teach your heart to open, again and again.

If you’re stepping into Brentwood with quiet hope, with a heart full of “what if,” name that hope. Let it guide you. Find refuge in the infirmary, in poetry corners, in the first bell that splits dawn from night. And always remember that your multilingual accent is proof of where you come from and where you’ll go.

Health Sciences requires precision but it also demands heart. Brentwood’s IB Chemistry and Biology prepared me academically, but it was the way Dr. Khan in Biology paused her lecture to help me pronounce scientific terms in English, so I felt seen and able, that mattered most. Learning the formulas was essential but learning I belong in science was transformative.

I wasn’t on the track team or rowing crew because my body worked in quieter ways. But I learned discipline through morning stretches, through walking laps after class when I was overwhelmed, and through cheering for my friends under the misty Lake Cowichan skies. Brentwood taught me that strength wears many forms.

Music gave me solace. Even if I didn’t perform, I attended concerts and watched theatre productions. Hearing others express themselves helped me express emotions I hadn’t yet found the words for. Whether it was piano, choir, or drama, I think art saved parts of me I didn’t know needed saving.

Wellness club and first-aid training changed everything for me. I learned to hold another person’s fear, their pain. During sleepover nights in the infirmary, I practiced listening without fixing. That groundedness has become central to who I want to be as a health-professional.

Living in Ellis House, I felt homesick for the taste and sounds of Hong Kong: food smells, family laughter, the city’s pulse. My roommates helped. We cooked meals together learning that a shared meal could feel deeply like home. I realized that belonging isn’t just proximity, but presence.

In the dining hall we gathered around long tables, chopsticks in hand, British Columbia salmon on my plate. I’ll never forget curry nights (thank you, chef!) because they meant not having to choose between culture and adaptation.

Mill Bay was quiet at first, but after rain, the mountains would reflect in the ocean and the world felt expansive. On weekends, I hiked, I journaled by the shore. These landscapes grounded my heart in ways tall skyscrapers couldn’t.

Being an international student could’ve made me feel like an observer but Brentwood made me a participant. I laughed at house joke nights, I cried with friends who missed home, I found power in saying, “This part of me comes from there.” I didn’t become Brentwood’s loudest voice but I became honest.