In searching for a topic for this talk, I tried to find something that was not related to music, but I soon discovered that a lot of the lessons I’ve learned over these past four years have been related to music. Earlier this spring, I was asked to be a part of a student panel for the trustees; in this meeting, they asked something along the lines of, “What is a piece of advice you would give to your freshman year self, or any underclassmen?” I responded by saying, “To be comfortable with making mistakes.” I first learned this lesson my sophomore year, when I took jazz improv, but I didn’t fully understand and embrace it until the beginning of this year.

When I took jazz improv, I always found myself striving for perfection: I couldn’t make a mistake if I wanted to be good. Any time I’d make a mistake, whether it was while I was practicing or during a performance, I’d get upset at myself, thinking that I wasn’t good enough. This drove me to continue practicing, which you may think was good, but the type of practice I was having was very unproductive. I let my ego get in the way of my practice. If there was a piece that was supposed to be played fast, I’d keep playing it at that tempo until I got it right, rather than slowing it down to fully grasp it. I analysed my playing very harshly, to the point where I didn’t like anything I played. I was also always in my head, constantly second-guessing myself. There were days and weeks where I just didn’t feel like picking up my sax. I wasn’t having fun, I wasn’t enjoying practice, everything felt like a task, and I was losing passion for the music.

That summer, I went to a jazz camp. I had fun at the camp, but also found myself not only thinking I wasn’t good enough, but also comparing myself with all of the other musicians around me. This drove me into a deeper hole, thinking that I wasn’t doing enough, pushing me to practice longer and more difficult things that I wasn’t necessarily ready for. When I got back to St. Andrew’s junior year, I found myself trying to practice and master an impossible number of things. This continued through the rest of junior year, where it became even more stressful because I was thinking about college and auditions. Furthermore, in the spring of junior year I had a small debate with a friend about whether or not I was a musician. At the time, and honestly to this day, I don’t view myself as a musician. But I said that because I simply didn’t think I was good enough; I had the passion, I wanted to be a musician, but I felt like I was so far behind compared to the other kids I played with at camp and even those I’d seen online. That title of “musician” just felt so far away.

The summer before senior year, however, I returned to that jazz camp and I was placed in one of the top bands for my first week there. Initially, I was surprised—I didn’t think I deserved it. I went into rehearsals very timidly because I was surrounded by collegiate-level players and I felt like I would be judged if I wasn’t up to par. After the first couple rehearsals, however, I found myself having fun and being able to hang with the others in the band. Not only was I able to play with these players, but I was also able to learn from them and them from me. We all made mistakes during rehearsals, but we were able to coach each other and offer advice.

So coming into this year, I understood that I had work to do, but I also knew that I was doing fine. Now anytime I practice, I welcome the mistakes: they let me know what I need to focus on. I’ve also learned to give myself grace. Making a mistake is not the end of the world; it’s fixable and the only way to learn is by making mistakes. To return to the title of “musician,” I still don’t believe I’m a musician, but only because of the respect I have for the musicians I look up to; they’ve dedicated their lives to music and I don’t think that I can say I’ve done that yet. However, I’ve gotten over the hump of thinking I’m not good enough.

I think these things are important to know and accept at a place like St. Andrew’s, where a lot of us are aiming to get the highest grade we can or be the best athlete we can be. We have to be ok with making mistakes and trust that all of the work we constantly put in is worth it. Otherwise, you may foster an unhealthy relationship with SAS, yourself, your sport, or the class that you once loved.

“When I took jazz improv, I always found myself striving for perfection: I couldn’t make a mistake if I wanted to be good. ... Now anytime I practice, I welcome the mistakes: they let me know what I need to focus on. I’ve also learned to give myself grace. Making a mistake is not the end of the world; it’s fixable and the only way to learn is by making mistakes.” Brandon Blake ’25

So as you all go about these final weeks or years here, know that you will make mistakes, you will fall short, but it isn’t the end of the world, it’s actually the beginning. Choose to learn and grow from mistakes instead of dismissing them or wallowing in them. 

I’d like to thank all of those who have supported me during my time here. All of the people who have told me to keep pushing, or that I’m doing great. All of the people who have pushed me to be the best me I can be. All of the people who have forced me out of my comfort zone. And finally, I’d like to thank the Class of 2025 for an amazing four years. 

Thank you.