As a child raised in West Virginia, I viewed boarding school as my path to the kind of education that children from affluent areas like Greenwich or the Upper East Side take for granted. My mother, a keen observer of income disparities during the ’80s, understood that gaining admission to a prestigious university was my ticket to maintaining a middle-class lifestyle. She worried that local high schools wouldn’t offer the rigorous college preparatory programs or the well-connected admissions counselors that could facilitate acceptance to top colleges. Thus, I packed my trunk with hand-sewn outfits crafted by my mother and grandmother, who had chosen patterns they believed were “preppy.”
However, my grandmother’s idea of what was fashionable for wealthy New England girls turned out to be quite misguided. My plaid skirts and knee socks felt out of place among my classmates, who donned Laura Ashley dresses and vibrant Indian-print tees. I frequently called home, pleading for new clothes, but that was simply not an option—we had barely scraped together enough funds for the first set, let alone a second. So, I made the best of my situation and endured a challenging first year, feeling out of place and lonely.
Despite the initial discomfort, the experience turned out to be invaluable. It introduced me to a community vastly different from my small-town upbringing, and I soon found myself at ease on the Upper East Side. (Or rather, I accepted my uniqueness and the fact that I might never fully belong.) Boarding school was like an anthropological expedition, offering insights into a world that wields significant influence over most of the nation’s wealth and power—knowledge that is useful, even for those not in the upper echelons of society. My time there illuminated the possibilities for my professional future and heightened my awareness of the American class system in ways that staying in my homogenous town could never have achieved. It also made me more conscious of privilege, both mine and that of others.
Like all kids, even those in elite prep schools, I formed friendships that have lasted into adulthood. I eventually secured a full scholarship to an excellent college, an opportunity I might not have had if I had remained in my hometown.
But would I send my own children to boarding school? Absolutely not. My mother aimed to change our family’s circumstances, much like the families who sent their children to the New World in search of a better life. The experience was painful, but I accepted that the challenges were worth it. However, if there are educational opportunities as robust as those at boarding schools available locally, my sons will stay home. Teenagers need their parents—daily support from Mom for various matters and Dad’s gentle observations during school pick-up to gauge their emotional state. They deserve the comfort that a nurturing home can provide, especially during the tumultuous adolescent years.
Moreover, they need to learn essential life skills—such as cooking, cleaning, and budgeting—that I missed out on as a teenager, while I suspect their peers with more parental guidance did not. (Thank goodness for the Internet. For my fellow boarding school alumni: dab things with Clorox wipes, and braising is fool-proof. An Excel file can serve as a basic budget!)
Selfishly, I’m also reluctant to part with my children four years earlier than necessary. My husband, who lived at home until graduate school, cannot comprehend the idea of boarding school. “We’d pay how much for them to be educated by someone like a Kennedy?” he muses, expressing skepticism about the moral values of private school children. “I’m unsure I want them mingling with those kinds of people,” he adds, as if all their classmates are children of various financial tycoons and unscrupulous bankers.
I argue, “No high school is free of difficult personalities,” but he remains unconvinced. What concerns us both is the reality that, in this country, a quality education often requires wealth or connections, which we do not possess. This may lead to some scrambling on our part.
Well, there’s always homeschooling.
In summary, while my boarding school experience provided valuable lessons and opportunities, I believe that staying close to home and providing a nurturing environment is paramount for my children’s growth. They need their parents’ guidance and support during their formative years, and the journey of learning essential life skills should not be overlooked.