Brentwood College School - Review #8

When I first stepped onto the Brentwood campus, I was struck by how the school balanced out with care. Coming from North Cowichan, the ocean, the forest, and that crisp Pacific air always reminded me I was somewhere special but what made it truly special was how Brentwood doesn't just push you academically; it nurtures your artistic side, your values, your confidence. The Dance Program is a perfect example because it’s not merely an extracurricular; it’s woven into what it means to be a student here. Whether it's contemporary solos or strength and flexibility classes, the school provides space for both discipline and expression. That dual commitment to excellence and authenticity is what sets Brentwood apart.

The best thing about Brentwood was discovering strength and voice through dance. When I performed that contemporary solo in 2024, I felt exposed but that vulnerability taught me bravery. I’ve changed, I’m more resilient, more clear on what I care about, more willing to take creative risks.

If I could change one thing, I’d have tried leadership sooner in the dance department helping choreograph, giving feedback, mentoring. My advice to new students is don’t wait for invitations instead ask to help. Step up even when you’re unsure. The growth happens outside the comfort zone.

What I loved most is that Brentwood didn’t ask me to give up parts of myself. Being academic, being a dancer, being someone who cared about politics or social issues, all of those were welcomed. That freedom to be multi-dimensional is what I’ll always carry with me.

If you’re coming in as a dancer, soak in the studios. Take strength classes even when they feel tedious, they payoff. Go to evening shows; watch your peers perform. If you're ever in doubt, walk along the shore at dusk, it clears more than you think. And keep a notebook or voice memo of your ideas, choreography, political thoughts, dreams, they’ll matter.

The academic side at Brentwood was demanding, but always fair and supported. Political Science wasn’t yet my path while at school, but many teachers made me think like a political scientist nonetheless questioning structure, ethics, power, and fairness. My English teacher, Ms. Price, pushed me to write essays not just for content, but for voice. Science classes (biology, chemistry) taught me discipline for detail; history and English taught me listening to multiple viewpoints. What I liked most was the combination of challenge and mentorship: when a class was hard, there was always someone, teacher, peer, tutor who’d help you climb over the wall, not let you fall behind.

Technically, I wasn’t on a high-performance sports team, but athletics were part of daily school life, required, encouraged, meaningful. I participated in fitness, some intramural sports, helped with warm-ups for dance, and cheered on teammates. The athletic program’s value was that it gave me physical discipline which balanced all the time in studios and classrooms. It taught me stamin aand not just in muscles but in mindset, which is something I lean on now in my studies.

Dance is my form of artistic expression, so I lived in the arts world at Brentwood. The Performing Arts Centre (studio spaces, theatre) is outstanding: good mirrors, sprung floors, sound systems that let you feel every beat. The Evening of Dance show, especially, was vivid. I remember performing a solo contemporary piece titled “Non, je ne regrette rien” (from the 2024 Studio Dance Program) and feeling both terrified and exhilarated. That experience, vulnerability in front of peers, then applause, then relief was formative. Music, theatre, even visual art events rounded out the possibilities: ways to see beauty, to express struggle, hope, connection.

I volunteered reliably with dance mentorship help, helping set up showcases, ushering guests, helping younger students with technique, costume changes. Also, I was part of debate and peer support groups: helping people adjust, organize their time, balance stress. These extra-curriculars pushed me beyond what I thought I could do. Being involved outside my comfort zone (speech, leadership, volunteer) made me more confident speaking up, organizing, taking initiative.

I wasn’t a boarder full time, but I spent enough evenings in dorms (rehearsals, performance nights, practice) to understand how dorm life works with tight quarters, shared late-night moments, group study sessions, roommate rhythms, laughter, exhaustion, and solidarity. On nights when I got homesick, having dorm mates who asked, “How are you?” not as a formality but really meant it made a difference. Those moments built friendships I still carry.

The dining hall was a hub, not just for food, but for connection. After long days of dance + classes, sharing a meal with other students, hearing stories, getting small encouragements, it humbled me. Brentwood’s kitchen usually offered healthy and comforting options; there was enough variety that even if you missed something from home, you didn’t feel deprived. I remember once craving a comfort dessert after a hard rehearsal, and the staff made something small, which meant more than they probably knew.

Mill Bay is breathtaking and calm. Walking by the shore in the evenings, breathing sea air, watching the sunsets, these small timeouts mattered more than I realized then. The school sits in a place where nature is your backdrop, which helped me recharge. And yet, being close enough to Victoria, having access to performances, galleries, philosophies, allowed me to see beyond the school bubble. That tension between calm and access is something I treasure.

Social life was simultaneously intense and tender. Dance rehearsal after school, evenings prepping for shows, late nights laughing in studios, shared fatigue before exams, all that created bonds. Friendships made in the studio (with fellow dancers), in classes (debate, leadership groups), and in houses (though I was day-student most times) mattered deeply. We supported each other in those stressful moments. Some nights I came home emotionally drained, but knowing someone else was, too, made me feel seen.