Bye, Bye Brentwood

28 June 2011Sarah M

I’ve said “goodbye” a thousand times before: at the end of phone conversations and summer camp, after visits with distant relatives, to holiday strangers who’d become friends, and to my familiar home when I traded the prairies for Mill Bay, BC. I’ve said goodbyes before, but I don’t think I’ve ever fully accepted what they meant. To me, the associated connotation is more of an “until next time”. Now, as my three years at Brentwood and final year of organized education (because honestly, university appears to be anything but) draw to their close, I am left once again pondering the meaning of that so overused “goodbye”. It still doesn’t seem to fit. I can say “so long” and thanks for the memories, memories of rowing regattas ending in last place and even (though just once) in first. Memories of races in which we literally screamed, not in pain but for fun and added intensity, memories of preps in which nothing but the discovery of a new type of braid was achieved or that long missing sock appeared while I was hiding at the back of the closet. There are memories of dancing on the chairs in the cafeteria, of dancing in the rain on the plaza, memories of star tipping and falling into puddles on the soaking wet grass of the rugby field and star tipping beneath the glowing stickers pasted to our ceiling only to be caught by a very amused Ms. Whitney. There are memories of classes spent mixing esters in the stereotypical chemistry experiments of high school, and of classes spent trying (and failing) to wrap our heads around theories of relativity while laughing in amusement at our facial expressions of “concentration”. And there are memories of people. The best things about Brentwood are the experiences it gives you. There are experiences in activities that push your limits, that place you shaking in a kayak upstream of rapids before you suddenly find yourself at the bottom with a grin that could match the Cheshire cat’s and no desire except to go for another ride. There are tests that push your limits physically—ask anyone who has ever rowed a 2K—and tests that push you mentally, within the classroom and outside of it. The most important ones though, are the emotional tests. Putting two fourteen year olds in a room the size of broom closet and expecting a year of stellar results would appear absurd to even the brightest optimist. As with any relationships, there are bound to be some bumps but thankfully the support structure is present just enough to cope with the big disasters, while letting us work the little things out ourselves. There is something electric about the energy on campus most days because, and I think I can speak for most when I say it, we all want to be here. Classes are so much better when the students want to learn, practices so much more fun when all members want them to be, and living in a community where everyone is there to learn, experience, and enjoy is one of the best gifts any student can ask for. I feel like I’ve learned so much these three years in all my scholarly pursuits, but also in life’s pursuits. I’ve learned a lot about myself, others, and the two combined and, perhaps the biggest discovery of all, that I will always continue learning. So, I’ve said goodbye before but I’ve never meant it, and I certainly am not going to start now.

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