Sihan

"In China, hockey was taken really seriously. Practice was hardcore. Parents would get really angry if their kids didn’t play well. Here, hockey is more about enjoying the sport and being part of a team.”

There’s a certain rigidity to life when everything is mapped out for you before you even have a say. Expectations define your path, structure dictates your every move, and success is measured not by what you love but by how well you rank. For Sihan, a grade 11 student at St. Andrew’s College, this reality was deeply ingrained—a carefully curated system designed to produce excellence at the sacrifice of individuality and freedom. Academics, extracurriculars, and obligations were carefully planned— each step predetermined. Rarely was there a moment to pause, to breathe, and to decide for himself what he truly wanted.

"Back in China, I remember doing homework on my way to hockey practice, literally sitting in the car, eating lunch, trying to finish assignments between tutoring sessions and extracurriculars. There was never enough time. There was always something else to do."

It became a cycle: school, tutoring, sports, extra assignments, school, tutoring, sports, extra assignments, and repeat. And so, a sense of urgency began to blossom, a need to keep moving, to stay ahead. There was little space to stop and think, no— opportunity to question whether all of it was truly necessary or, at the very least, good. That was just the way things were.

For Sihan, school in China wasn’t just about learning—  it was about keeping up. Falling behind wasn’t an option. Success wasn’t a personal journey but a relentless competition where every test, every ranking, every comparison mattered.

"If everyone around me is competitive, and I don’t catch their flow, then I’ll fall behind, right? That’s just how it was. Even in this environment where none of the evaluations truly mattered, the competition is still extremely strong. By no means should these rankings be this important when the objective is to figure out what you’re being taught with."

This competitive mentality was not limited solely to academics—  influencing other aspects of Sihan’s life, including his lifelong passion for hockey. Having played since four years old, Sihan’s identity is deeply connected to Hockey’s culture.

"In China, hockey was taken really seriously. Practice was hardcore. Parents would get really, really angry if their kids didn’t play well. Not my parents, but I’ve seen it. Here, hockey is more about enjoying the sport and being part of a team. [In China], the fun part was different because it's more forced rather than motivating."

When his parents decided to move to Canada, it wasn’t just for a better education. It was about something bigger. The freedom to choose, explore, and step away from the rigid structure that had dictated so much of his life. But stepping away, as always, isn’t easy.

At first, it didn’t feel real. Canada didn’t feel permanent.

"When I first arrived, it felt like I was just traveling, like I’d be going back to China in a few weeks. It took time to realize I was staying here."

The cultural shift was overwhelming. The school itself looked different and alien, but so did everything else.

"I had never seen that many foreigners in my life before. It was a new experience. New faces, new languages, a completely new school system."

Then, there was the expectation that students should do things outside of school. Education wasn’t just about grades but included hobbies, clubs, and sports. Rather than solely his parents supporting extracurricular involvement, schools became a driving force behind developing a well-rounded personality.

"In Canada, the school system pushes you to be more than just a student. We have three-term sports, and you have to sign up for at least two terms. That’s how they make sure students are involved in something outside of class."

However, rather than the goal-oriented mentality of extracurricular participation back in China, outside interests in Canada were, first and foremost, a passion. In China, extracurriculars were often just another obligation, something you did to check a box to improve your university applications. Here, students actually enjoy them. People played sports because they wanted to. They joined clubs because they liked them.

The shift felt strange at first. The pressure that had once suffocated Sihan was gone. There were still competitive teams, but there was also space to just play. To just enjoy the game. It became a way to connect, to feel part of something, instead of just another test to pass. This shared passion for hockey allowed him to quickly acclimate and integrate into his community.

“So I tried out for a school team over here. And I fortunately made the team. And, again, that's some new people I could talk to. The whole team is 15-something people. I hung out with them for the entire two years [that I lived in Montreal]. We actually hung out until I left. So for those two years, that group was mainly the group of people I hung out with.”

And while Sihan no longer plays hockey, it is still integral to his life. His younger brother picked it up in Canada, starting to play for the first time in an environment completely different from the one Sihan knew.

"My brother plays now, and it’s not as competitive as it was for me. He’s playing for fun, and I see how different it is."

Now, Sihan watches from the sidelines, seeing his brother participate in a version of hockey that’s less about competition and more about enjoyment. He sees the contrast between their experiences—the intensity he grew up with versus the more balanced approach his brother has now.

But this new environment also exposed Sihan to many more opportunities.

“I feel like my school really gave me this opportunity to explore a variety of instruments, especially during our extracurricular times; there’s guitar, rockband, ukulele, and even erhu. I developed an interest in guitar, and I just bought mine like five days ago. Instead of my parents urging me to practice and getting better at this – what powers me to pick up these instruments up is truly passion, cause I listen to music in my free time.”

Sihan’s experience is far from alone. Many Chinese international students struggle with shifting from memorization-heavy learning to critical thinking-focused education, often facing self-doubt and a fear of speaking up in class. These barriers can be difficult to navigate, but for Sihan, hockey became a way to connect to his new life, to let go of expectations, and to experience something without pressure.