It’s always the simplest things, that are the hardest to do, like getting out of bed, going to the gym when you’re too tired or even being honest. I tend to be an honest guy, with myself and towards others. Even though it’s not something that everybody likes to hear, I try to be honest, not only because it’s what’s right but because it’s about respect. Now, I’m not saying just to go around giving your honest opinion to everybody when it really doesn’t matter. But honesty when it matters builds trust, it builds character, it builds relationships that last.
The definition of gratefulness is a warm and deep appreciation for kindness received. I think there’s something wholesome about that, how it’s associated with comfort and happiness, because feeling grateful can make you feel even better than the initial joy of achieving something. It’s acknowledging that someone or something else got you where you are now, ultimately highlighting that happy feeling.
I am standing here today because of you. I am grateful for this school, for the people here and for everything I have now.
Before coming to Stanstead, I was an absolutely terrible student. I never studied, never listened in class, always laughing with my friends. So I always got scores like 20 or 30 on tests, getting Ds on my report card.
But I never cared. Whenever I failed, I blamed my teachers instead of myself. And because I was at one of the top schools in Japan, I believed I didn’t need to try.
But inside, I was struggling much more than anyone knew.
All the time, I catch myself thinking about the moments when I could have made a different decision. I replay the same situations in my head and wonder, “Maybe if I did this instead, things could’ve turned out better,” or “Maybe if I had just tried a little harder.” And then there are times when I start worrying about all the little things that haven’t even happened yet, small details that probably won’t even matter in the long run. Sometimes it’s so easy to get caught in the “what ifs” without realizing how much unnecessary stress that causes.
About three years ago, my parents and I spent every weekend watching movies together. One night, we finally opened an unopened DVD of Dead Poets Society. It is a classic movie. Great actors, great story. My father, who is usually not emotional at all, actually shed tears when the students stepped onto the desks one by one. You might not have seen this movie, but it is a story about a group of students who are under the guidance of their “captain,” trying to break away from a strict and traditional education.
Life has a funny way of testing you—sometimes by dropping you in the middle of New York City as a child without a phone just to see what you’ll do next.
It was a dark Thursday night—definitely not the best time to be walking alone in Manhattan when you’re only eleven. I had just finished practice, and my mom called the front desk of the training facility to reach me. She told me she was at the hospital with my sister, who’d broken her hand playing hockey. She made a last-minute plan for me to meet a babysitter at a Starbucks nearby. Easy enough, right?
There is a strange truth to life that we don’t often stop to think about. It’s that every person who matters to us, every friend, every mentor, every teacher, every person who has shaped us, was once a complete stranger. People who now feel essential to our story once walked passed us in the hallways without a second glance. And yet, by some quiet alignment of chance and choice, our lives collided.
This morning, I lost my phone. We all know how stressful that is… but part of me knows I'll find it sooner or later, because there’s a part of me that wants to believe.
In a weird way, I felt kind of lucky. I only lost my phone. I could have lost something way more important. Some people lose their reputation, their friends, or even their family.
How long will you be here? Why do people chase fame and legacy? What is the purpose of life? These types of questions are exactly why talk of fame and legacy get so fuzzy. For one, I won’t be around to enjoy it and eventually no one will, but secondly, that’s actually a pretty good definition of the self – you are everything you take with you when you die: your secrets, the things you could have done or said but never did. That’s what you are.
Erm hey. That’s something one of my buddies used to always say: “Erm hey.” Last year, I said goodbye to him, not knowing when I was going to see him again. I made sure to be the last one to say goodbye. I hugged him tight, let out some tears, and as “Creep” by Radiohead played in the background, I said my final goodbye. But it didn’t feel right. As he was walking to the door, I felt like I needed one more hug, but no. I thought it would be weird. Now why would I think that? I’ve got no idea really. And I wish I could go back and give him one more hug. But I can’t.
This summer, my grandfather asked me to come over to his house and help him clean out his basement. It had been about one and a half years since my grandmother passed away, and my grandfather decided it was about time he started to clear some things out.
Student artist Mo Han, Grade 11, mounted a solo exhibition during Homecoming Saturday and raised $2680 to help fund art supplies and equipment for the school as well as future student art projects. In a silent auction, Mo sold six paintings in all. Nine more are still available through an online auction running until June 17 at 6 pm ET.
I was out on a run with my airpods in a couple weeks ago, and my Spotify shuffled to the song “Dear Younger Me” by MercyMe. If you haven’t heard the song before, it doesn’t really take a rocket scientist to figure out what it’s about: it’s a person addressing the universal desire to offer wisdom and comfort to one’s past self and wondering what they would tell the younger version of themselves.
Every year, hockey players on the prep team have to go though the process of getting cut from varsity or making the team. Last March, I was in that position. Unfortunately, I didn't make the team and had to stay one more year on prep. With this new information, I didn't let it bring me down or lose confidence in myself. Instead, it fueled me to be better for next season.
There are less than two months left in the year, and I still find myself complaining about small things-whether it's the food not being great, not wanting to go to clubs, or not feeling like doing my Econ homework.
Today I’d like to speak with you about an inevitable aspect of our lives: failure. Each and every single person in this school has their very own dreams and aspirations. Some may want to get into a certain school. Some may strive to excel in sports. Some may simply wish to be the best version of themselves. We are all motivated to attain our goals and to surpass our limits in some way shape or form.
Each year, when it comes time for prefects to give their speeches, Stanstead recommends that we share a story or a piece of advice we have learned. This year, I’m surprisingly well prepared for that assignment because I have been giving advice to my two younger sisters who will both be coming here next year.
From a young age, I’ve been fortunate to experience some incredible moments through hockey. I’ve had the opportunity to compete against elite players, to represent my country and to live experiences that many athletes dream of. Along the way, I’ve learned my true definition of the word “success.”
If there is one thing I’ve learned over the past few years and especially since attending Stanstead, is that figuring out who you are isn’t something you just wake up one day and suddenly know. And sometimes, it feels like everyone else has it all figured out, except you.
This speech is dedicated to Mr. Kulakowsky, who had a great impact on my experience at Stanstead College this year. This is a message he stood for, and something I have always struggled with.
I find myself often looking at the world, and I see its many challenges – poverty, injustice, inequality – and I wonder, what can I do? I look at the great figures of history: revolutionaries, leaders, visionaries, people who have made real, substantial change, and I think to myself, I am just one person. How can I make a difference like they did?
I stand here today knowing that exactly a week ago, I was sitting on the plane going back home staring at my laptop screen with zero clue of how to start. I was talking with some of my teammates about what my prefect speech could be about, and I had originally planned to maybe write about love, being the day before Valentine's Day and all. But then I was thinking it over, and I decided, I don't want to do that. I don't want to talk about love when I haven't the slightest clue how to see myself, let alone dictate how you see others.
I strongly believe in the power of personal development. Self-motivation, self-belief and self-discipline are the keys to achieving your goals and becoming the best version of yourself. However, I think the biggest obstacle to personal growth is procrastination.
Last weekend when I started to write my speech, I sat in front of my computer, staring at the screen but totally had no idea. I even went to the Stanstead College website to read other prefect speeches, including some from 2020. But no matter how much I looked, I still didn’t know what to say.
Many people make New Year’s resolutions, but many of them don’t follow through. For my New Year's resolution, I want to overcome the difficulties I have faced. For instance, when I first arrived in Stanstead, it was completely different from the life I had previously lived; it was my first time living away from home. I often felt homesick and just wanted to pack my things and leave for a place that felt more comfortable and familiar.